Jailbait Read Online Free Page B

make.”
    There was a long pause, and part of me hoped she had hung up.
    But, strangely, another part of me didn’t.
    “I have an OBGYN appointment today at the Farmview center, on Monroe. Two p.m.”
    “Okay. Maybe we can meet sometime afterward.”
    “Not afterward, you callous shithead. Meet me there.”
    “You want me at the doctor’s office?”
    “Yes.”
    “At the same time you’re there?”
    “Yes.”
    “Will I have to look at your enormous, naked body?”
    Tangi hung up.
    I didn’t like doctors. They always wanted to take something from you, like blood or a kidney, or stick something in you, like a probe or a needle.
    As I walked into the waiting room, apprehension crouched on my shoulders and decided to hang out there. Six chairs were all very filled with very pregnant women, many of them appearing ready to pop. It sort of reminded me of the Alps. Never before had I been in a room full of women and been so unaroused.
    I did a quick scan of the fatties, didn’t notice Tangi, and then turned around to leave just as she was walking in.
    “Hey, babe. You’re looking… uh… pregnant.”
    “So you showed up. I didn’t think you would.”
    “Yep. Here I am. So you want me to just write you a check, then meet you afterward?”
    I noticed all the preggos were listening to us while pretending not to.
    “You’re going in,” Tangi said. “With me.”
    “And we’re sure this kid is mine? No offense, but you jumped me so fast I felt like just one more guy in the queue. I was surprised you didn’t have one of those deli ticket number dispensers strapped to your back.”
    One of the women seated around us made a sound somewhere between a grunt and a huff.
    Tangi rolled her eyes. “I’m sure the baby is yours, Harry.”
    “Isn’t there some sort of blood test to confirm this?”
    “We can do all the blood tests you pay for. But you’re going in there with me today.” Tangi waddled off to check in with the receptionist.
    I leaned over and whispered to the beluga whale sitting nearest to me, “I think she did this to trap me into marriage.”
    “I doubt that’s the case,” the woman said.
    I appraised her. She was big enough to make good money selling shade at the beach.
    “Jesus. How many kids you got in there? Twenty?”
    “The Lord has blessed me with twins.”
    “The Lord? He’s the one who shagged you?”
    She gave me a look that was anything but holy, and then Tangi returned.
    “I have to go pee in a cup. You’d better still be here when I get back.”
    “Sure. Of course, babe. I’ll be right here. Scout’s honor.”
    Tangi disappeared into the office, and I tripped over myself bolting for the exit.
    “Not a good idea.”
    I stopped. Yet another fatty was butting into my personal business. “Excuse me?”
    “You leave right now, that woman will never speak to you again. And if that is your kid, you’re going to find that someday down the line, you’ll wish you hadn’t screwed this up.”
    I wanted to argue. But the way she stared at me, with those big, pregnant eyes, I knew this wise fat woman was right. Rather than flee, I found myself plopping down in the seat next to her.
    “So what’s your story?” I asked. “This another Virgin Birth like the nut job over there?”
    The woman showed me the magazine she was reading.
Modern Parenthood
. The lead story, in block letters over some drooling baby’s grinning face, was “The Importance of Daddy.”
    “Children in two-parent households have many more advantages than those of single parents. They wind up forming better social relationships in life, making more money in their careers, living longer, and actually being happier. Let me take a shot—you didn’t grow up with both parents in the picture, did you?”
    I was an orphan. I didn’t grow up with any parents in the picture. I only found out Jack was my long-lost sister relatively recently. “What if the child is raised by a single, loving mother, and the single-loving