Dancing Through The Night

Chapter 6 - Alannah

I can't wait for the first scan next week. First, I have to talk to my boss though. He hasn't been very forthcoming with other female employees in the past. Not that I paid special attention to it. Kids hadn't been on my radar for the near future. How things are now, I spend a considerable amount of time weighing up my options, going through every scenario possible. More and more, I fancy the idea of self-employment. As a single mum, I need flexibility. I will need the income, and after that five year law degree, there's no way I'm giving up my career. I'm good at my job and maybe it's time to dare this step. I'll talk to my boss tomorrow to see where I'm standing. - Stuff it. I'm doing it now.

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Turns out, I'm getting exactly the minimum rights I have by law. Fair work is not my specialty but I looked over it again and again in the past weeks. Time to get started on a new project before my little one joins me in the chaos I've created for us. Before I quit, I'll set up a basic business structure and get things going.

Harry has been calling me on and off for a few days, and then there was nothing for the past three weeks. I haven't picked up my phone or answered him. The more I am surprised to hear his voice on my work phone as I return from the office showers after my lunch break jog. Luckily, the door to my office is closed. So many times over the past weeks have I been close to calling him, hearing him out. Deep down though, I know that all I'd get would be excuses and lies. Excuses and lies I'd like to believe and maybe would even choose to believe.
I lift my gaze from the unknown caller ID on the phone display to the window. Nothing beats the beautiful picture of the high-rise building tops in front of the green and red of the national park trees, interrupted only by the blue shimmer of the sea on the horizon. I'll miss this view. Many times has it saved my sanity and probably entire cases. It helps me to focus, relax and think. All three I need now.

Trying my best to keep my voice steady and firm, I remind myself of all the hurt Harry has caused me. To keep my dignity throughout this call, I need anger.

"Harry. What can I do for you?" My voice sounds foreign and robotic. The silence stretches and my eyes loose focus. I catch myself stare at the strand of brown hair on my pants. Instead of putting it in the bin, I fiddle around with it, stretch it and stroke along its sharp surface, back and forth.
"I need to see you." Harry sounds genuine, sad. My heart is squeezing. I need to focus on my anger before I give in.
"There's nothing to talk about. Please don't contact me anymore." I could hang up but something inside is stopping me. I twirl the hair strand around my index finger. When I pull just a bit harder at it, it cuts into my skin.
"I'll leave her."
Hearing it affects me more than I thought it would. This is the first time Harry admits that he is still very much in a relationship with Angela.
"I have moved on, Harry," I try to convince myself. "Don't contact me anymore." With shaking hands and a racing heart, I push the twisted hair up my finger. It's a scruffy bunch now.
"But..." I hang up.
Will I deprive my child of his or her father? Maybe I'm all wrong? Don't they always say fathers have rights and obligations? No, he is in the wrong. I am not at fault. How come he is the fraud but I feel the guilt? I only do what's best for me right now, and that will ultimately be best for my child. Should this ever change, I know where to find him. I throw the scruffy hairball into the bin under the desk just as the secretary calls to announce my next client.

I'm tired and hungry and decide to pull into one of the many fast food restaurants on my way home. For the past week, I haven't eaten much, with morning sickness being a killer. After reading the first pregnancy books and comparing with Tessa's experiences I really thought I was one of the lucky ones, but it seems I was wrong, to the point that I'm actually scared getting up in the morning. Now, I'm looking forward to those disgustingly greasy noodles I usually hate. Tomorrow, I'll start a healthy diet.

Pulling the last chocolate bar out of the cupboard, my phone rings, displaying Tessa's number. It's like she's got superpowers and just caught me doing the naughty desert thing I've done every evening for the past week. She gave me a long lecture on healthy eating yesterday. Not that I needed it. I have always been at least as health conscious as she is, but those hormones are truly messing with me.
Slowly, I put the bar down as if Tessa is behind me or can see me through the phone.

"Just giving you the headsup," she whispers, probably because Xander is nearby, about to fall asleep. "Laura is going to call you. She needs someone to look after her dog while she's in Japan."
"What? She's going for a couple of weeks on that assignment. I thought she had a housesitter."
"Cancelled at the last minute." Tessa's sigh says it all. This is typical for Laura. Always a last minute drama.
"I wonder if she ever even had a commitment from the housesitter or if she actually forgot." The amount of times we had to step in to save her at the last minute, I can't even count anymore. We're not even that close friends anymore. We used to be in High School, Tessa, Laura and I, and we remained in close contact during uni but Laura started doing her own thing more and more and so we really just catch up from time to time with her now.
"Don't let her talk you into it. I haven't told her about the baby, so she'll just figure it'll be okay. It's your news to share and I know you want to wait until the scan, but please say no. You don't need this."
Tessa knows about my language problem when it comes to the word "no".

When half an hour later Laura calls, all sweet and nervous because her flight leaves tomorrow, I tell her about Harry and the baby, about work and that because of all of those I am not in a situation to look after her dog. I suggest a website for housesitters and other domestic helpers I found on the web, and I tell her about the dog boarding place Mel from my yoga class had used last summer.
"It is too late to organise," Laura tells me, and she only trusts Tessa and me. I can't say no. As my lips form the three sounds, I already regret it.

Only an hour later,  Laura rings at the door, dog food, bed, toys and Gypsie the pug in tow. Having  grown up with larger breeds, I wonder how I'll go with a small pooch. Hopefully, I'm not going to step on her.