Until November

Chapter 5

Jocelyn 

I have no clue what to think about Ben. Or this situation. He is justified for his choices and his opinion, even if he expands this fog of uncertainty in my life. The delivery of his words causes my jaw to clench. Seriously. Where does he get off? Our feelings for each other are rooted in brutal, mutual dislike turning my morning into a tidal wave of emotions. My reflux is also acting up. Take a breath. Take two. Shake off the conversation with Ben.

Everything feels compounded with the delivery date looming in the distance. The clock is counting down fast. If one of us doesn't budge, this baby is going to a stranger. No wonder I got no sleep last night. The multiple trips to the bathroom also played a role. My bladder is the size of a pea.

Nothing helps though. Nothing eases my increasingly panic-stricken heart. Nothing feels settled. The only thing for sure is Ben's determination to treat this like an inconvenience. He's not stubborn. He's immovable. And that's dangerous. 

Except...his attitude about Jack and Hannah. The callousness runs deep. Ben masks it with indifference. That bothers me. That's why I'm holding my breath. Whatever went down between them must have been bad. That much I know.

Now an innocent life is involved. Why wouldn't he want to pause and listen? Take a minute to think through the best way to move forward? Is he really going to walk away because he has a tee time and is probably saying something like, "I'm out," right before he goes back home? Something is not right. Trouble is, do I want to find out?

Rich assures me that I am in no way legally responsible for the baby, should Ben follow through and not claim guardianship and I choose the same path. The agency that matched the Winfield's and I are beyond involvement at this stage. It comes down to lawyers now. My hand runs idly over my belly. "Give me more time." Despite my over-flapping, fluttering heart, time is running out. Time this baby suddenly needs while the adults get their shit together.

I step on the gas and approach the beautiful, green-for-miles Ipswich Golf Course & Country Club. A world-class course home to the famed upcoming Fielding Cup and the one Ben would be here for anyway. If time rewound and Jack and Hannah weren't in that accident I wonder if Ben would have reached out to his brother. The answer in my gut is a resounding no.

Best to put all those thoughts on hiatus as I pull into a spot, noticing one of the VIP parking spaces at the resort has a car—a car matching Ben's rental. I roll my eyes and get out. "Oh come on. Please don't be here," I gripe, getting out of the car.

I shouldn't be surprised if he is here. Ben's step into Redford has not gone unnoticed, making my sworn oath to keep this baby's parents a secret even harder. The citizens in our town give him a welcome in the form of breakfast specials, aka The Ben Ryan, a short stack and extra bacon. The Wedge--not a salad-- is a specialty coffee at Double Shot. The possible times he's at the course (information most likely leaked by golf course employees) and a coupon for five percent off if you show a photo with yourself and Ben.

The pro shop is where I currently work. A temporary position since I cannot teach golf lessons with a belly not getting along with swinging a club. The shop is always too warm. The merchandise visors and golf balls are stamped with Ipswich. A woman looks through polos and smiles at me upon entering and I keep going to the employee office.

"Hey," I say to Andre, another instructor who will tell me if Ben is in fact on property. Andre knows everyone's move in this town.

He glances at me with a gaze never up to any good. His giant iced coffee on the desk with a ring of water around it is the office mascot. "You want to make an extra twenty bucks Madson?" He gestures to my stomach. "Give the parents something to start the old college fund?"