When Girlfriends Step Up by Savannah Page

bird.
    “Like I said, so busy at work—”
    “That’s nice and all,” I cut him off. “Look, there’s something I need to talk to you about.” I tried my hardest to stay in control and direct.
    “Shoot.” He was cool right now. Just he wait.
    And then I told him. I let it spill forth without giving him room to retort or deny.
    “I’ve taken the tests. Several tests. Each one positive. I’m pregnant, Brandon. There’s no doubt about it. And I’ve got an appointment already with a doctor. I’m going to see the baby for the first time. And don’t think for a minute it’s not yours. There isn’t anyone else. There wasn’t anyone before we shacked up that night…no one within any reasonable time, that’s for sure. No one since. It’s yours, Brandon. And I thought you should know.” I could feel myself starting to lose my calm after the words fluidly poured forth without an ounce of hesitation. “And—and, well, I wanted you to know. To see—”
    His words in response to becoming a father were ice: “I’ll send you some money for an abortion.”
    “What? No. No. You didn’t hear what I said. I’m having a baby. Brandon, I’m keeping the baby.”
    “And why are you calling me? You want money for this problem? Fine. I’ll send you the money you need for an abortion.”
    “I’m not having an abortion, Brandon!” The words stung as I spoke them, and my lunch churned even more violently. “I’m calling because…because…because I figured you should know. It’s your baby, too, and you have a ri—”
    “It may be mine, but I didn’t plan on having a baby at this point in my life, Robin. Not this way. Not with you. To be honest, I don’t care what you do with it. Have it, give it up for adoption, go at it alone. I don’t want to be involved.”
    “But—”
    “Look,” he continued. “You want help with this…situation—I’m helping you. I’ll take responsibility, and your word, that it’s mine, and I’ll cough up whatever it costs for you to get rid of it.”
    “I’m not ‘getting rid of it,’ Brandon. How can you be so insensitive?”
    “ I’m not choosing to keep it, so you’ll have to deal with the expenses on your own. You’ll have to raise it on your own—”
    “I fully intend on raising my baby on my own if that’s how it’s going to be. I don’t want you involved if you want nothing to do with it. Sophie and I thou—”
    “Sophie? She knows? Well, I’m glad you two made up.” Despite the hurtful tone and words of the conversation up until that point, I knew that Brandon hadn’t wanted our one-night stand to come between the friendship that Sophie and I had. He’d made it clear to me on several occasions, and, according to Sophie, it was one of the last things he told her before they said goodbye. Although at this moment in particular I’m sure he was elated Sophie and I were best friends again. That way I’d have someone to help me with the baby, since God knows he didn’t want anything to do with it.
    “Sophie and I are just as good as friends as ever. Better, even,” I said proudly.
    “Glad to hear it.”
    “That’s not the discussion, though, Brandon. All I’m asking is that you please do your part and help where you can. If you don’t want to play the dad role, then fine. But man up a bit. I know you’re not penniless. Can you find it in your heart to want to help feed our child? Clothe it?”
    “Look, Robin, congratulations, or whatever you want to hear. I’ve got to go. I’m swamped with work. Let me know how much the abortion costs and I’ll send you the money. Until you have that information don’t call me again.”
    “Bra—”
    Click.
    “What the hell?” I shouted, tossing my cell phone to the floor of the passenger seat.  
    That was not how things were supposed to go!
    Brandon was allowed to be angry, that was fine. But he was supposed to understand—should understand—that the decision to keep the baby was my decision; and