"That's the last of em." Tucker, Danny, and I look at our place that we just finished moving into. The faint blue walls are covered in photo frames and shelves stacked with my brother Danny's trophies from hockey. This was originally my best friend Tuckers New York City apartment, but we decided to move in together so rent would be easier. We all chill on the couch and crack open a few beers.
About a little while into it, I get called into my work, as a bartender. It's really close to the apartment, so I walk down there. It's a shabby but cozy type of bar that a lot of hot women come to. I'm a bit of a player. After flirting with the ladies and showing off my bartending skills, I close up shop late at night.
I head home to the sound of a crying baby, at the front of my door step. it has a letter in it's carriage. I slowly approach this random child, and read the letter.
Dear Ben,
My name's Angela. You probably don't remember me, but a while ago we hooked up. Turns out that hook up turned into me having a child. I'm sorry I didn't let you know, but I can't take care of her anymore. Her name is Emma, and she's three months old. Take good care of her.
Signed Angela
My eyes widened and everything else became a blur.. Angela...Child...Can't take care of her? It was all too fast for me. I picked up Emma from her carriage and held her gently. I couldn't help but smile at how cute she was. Inside the envelope were other pieces of paperwork that had adoption papers, dna test for me to take, and full custody forms.
I brought Emma inside of the apartment. "Hey bro- whats with that baby?" Danny arches his eyebrows. "Ben!! Do not tell me that baby is yours!" Tucker exclaimed. "G-guys.. This is my daughter Emma." I whisper, "She came from a hook up with this girl a LONG time ago.." I shielded Emma's ears so she wouldn't hear that, even though she's a baby. I really didn't know where to begin. How do I become a father just like that?
I set the baby down for the night since it was terribly late. I got no sleep, from the fact that I AM A FATHER. At twenty three. I even admit it, I'm so immature. I don't know how this is going to work. The word adoption keeps running through my head like a freight train.
