The Choices Being Made (Book #2, Choices series)

7

"...win stupid prizes, amiright?" Michael laughed. He was on his fifth call now. He started with his mom and now he was talking to his friend, Mac. It was the third time he made the joke. The stupid fucking inappropriate GD joke.

"Yup, New Year's Day," he added.

"Mason, what is going on New Year's Day?" Polly whispered after hearing him mention it a few times.

Mason shrugged. "No clue. First I heard about it."

"Shit, mom's on the other line. Let me run. Thanks, dude." Michael tapped his phone. "Hey, mom. Yes, I told you New Year's day. I don't know...the usual I guess...nine months. No appointment yet. Mom, we went over this already. Fine, talk to Polly."

Michael handed over the phone to Polly. She gave him a what-the-hell-look.

"Hi, Helen! How are you?"

"Polly! You are having my grandbaby - I am doing great!"

Polly giggled. "I'm glad we could make your day."

"My life! You made my life, sweetheart! So, wedding on New Year's Day, huh?"

Polly shot a look at Michael and mouthed, "What the fuck?!"

Michael just smiled wide and shrugged.

"You there, Polly girl?"

"Sorry. Yes, um Michael couldn't wait," she said shooting her soon to be dead boyfriend - scratch that - fiancé a dirty look.

"I hope you have a pretty, white dress, dear. You have to have the wedding at the country club," then she must have turned from the phone. "Walt! Call the club and make January one available for the wedding!"

"Helen, it's okay. You don't need to go through any trouble," Polly pointed to Michael and then ran her finger horizontally across her throat.

"No trouble, dear! At. All. Walt! Oh, I have to go. Deaf as a door nail that one. Coming!"

"Goodb-" and the line went dead. So Polly turned to face the man she would soon spit roast in the backyard. "Married? In two fucking cock sucking GD WEEKS, Michael!?"

"Woah, tiger," he held his hands up.

"Don't you 'Woah tiger' me, you - Gah!" Polly stood and started pacing. "I can't just marry you, Michael!"

"The hell you can't!" Michael stood.

"And you can't bully me into it!"

"You are getting married to me, Polly. End of the discussion. I'm not raising a bastard..."

"Say. It. Again," Polly hissed at him. "Come on big guy! Refer to a child a bastard again! I'll call up my illegitimate daughter and you can try it out on her while we are at it!"

Michael quickly realized his mistake. "I didn't mean..."

"Of course you didn't! People like you don't think past themselves!"

"Oh really? People like me, huh? You know most women would love to fucking have a man ask them to marry them. Hell, I know a few that would like it to be me!"

"Oh yeah? Is that so? Then perhaps you should have knocked them up!"

Polly stormed out of the room. "You can't just run out when..." and the front door slammed.

***
The front door of Polly's house crashed open. "Did you just fucking leave?!"

"Apparently, I did not go far enough!" She yelled back. "I don't want to talk about this anymore. Sloan will be here in a few days. Christmas is coming. And I'm having a baby! I don't have the energy to deal with people that want to run my life!"