The Foster Girls #3: Elizabeth

Chapter 11: Elizabeth

Present day...

"Wow, you're like, as big as a house," Willow whistled as she met me at baggage claim. I'd finished my six months in London – delivering the product on time, thank you very much – but I wasn't coming home alone.

"Mansion or cottage?"

Willow looked me up and down. "Freaking mansion." And then we fell into each others' arms in a tight hug. Well, as tight a hug as my belly allowed. "Missed you."

I squeezed my sister tightly. "It's so good to see you. I've really missed you."

Willow stepped back and rubbed my Buddha belly. "How's my niece?"

"Kicking up a storm. I don't think she liked sitting so long on the plane ride." I rubbed my belly. "Hope you're hungry because we're starving."

After we collected my luggage, we walked to Willow's car in the parking garage and left for her apartment. "Are you going to call him?"

"Wow, straight to the tough questions."

Willow flapped a hand in the air. "You always avoid the question."

With a heavy sigh, I looked out the window. "Here's the thing, Willow. He didn't want me, didn't want to be tied down in any way. He made that abundantly clear when he kissed another girl – right in front of me, might I add – and chose that slag over me. And what little I've heard about him from you – and it was more than I wanted to hear, FYI – is that now he's simultaneously trying to explode his liver and destroy his career because he can't stop getting into fights on the ice and in bars. So explain how any of that should compel me to tell him that he's about to be a father. He wasn't ready for a girlfriend and he's certainly not ready for fatherhood. Knowing him, he'd go for joint custody just to spite me and win it because he has more money than sense and then he'd hand off my baby to whichever skank he's banging that day so he can sleep off his hangover."

"That was a pretty impressive speech," Willow said after a moment. "And I concede all of those points. However, the fact remains, he is the father of your baby, and he has a right to know."

I turned away from the window and pierced Willow with a glare. "Does he, Will? Just because he's the sperm donor, does that really give him the right to know about this baby? I don't feel like arguing with you about him and we're going to have a big problem if you mention this again."

Willow didn't back down. You have to love friends like that...probably because it's illegal to kill them. "Then I guess we're going to have a big problem because I think you're wrong. And so do Harp and Fin."

"That could be. But if you think my springing this on him is going to somehow miraculously turn him into father of the year, you're dead wrong. And I refuse to let my child be raised in a chaotic, unstable life, bouncing between homes. We had that in foster care, Willow – you know how it was, you know – and I refuse to let that type of instability affect her."

"I have a theory."

I rolled my eyes. "You always do."

Without pause, she gave it to me. "I think he's imploding because of you. I think he had deep feelings for you, and that made him panic, which led him to making a huge mistake and he regrets losing you, hence all the bad, out-of-control behavior."

"Yes, because nothing says 'I care for you' like kissing a random skank in front of someone you're having sex with. They probably have a greeting card for that."