"Let's get this straight..." I started, leaning forward and placing my elbows on the counter I was sitting at. "You knocked up a girl, but she didn't tell you she was pregnant, and then she left the baby on your doorstep?" I summarized, waiting for a response from Ben, who stood on the other side of the counter, banging his forehead rhythmically on the surface.

"What gave it away?" Tucker said sarcastically from the living room, where he stood holding a baby girl in a pink floral shirt and rainbow striped leggings. She chewed on her finger with her gums, slobber dripping down her lip and rolling onto her chin and hand.

"I can't believe this is happening... How could this happen, Cassie?" Ben beseeched, lifting his head from the counter and looking at me. Ben and I had been best friends since we were barely even five years old. Being best friends for so long, we both knew I was the responsible one between us and Ben expected me to know exactly what to do. Most of the time, I had an idea, but in this particular situation, I was as lost as he was.

"Well... um... when two people love each other very much-- or in your case, one party finds the other remotely attractive--"

"Yeah, yeah, I know how it happened. I just don't understand..."

"Yeah, I know, Ben." I replied sympathetically, reaching across and comfortingly squeezing his wrist.

"Hey man, maybe it's not even your baby." Tucker suggested, noticing just how taken aback Ben was, which was appropriate. Just twenty minutes ago, there had been a knock on the door and Ben had opened it to find a baby on his doormat.

"Right! It could just as easily be yours, right?" Ben exclaimed. Tucker, Ben's half African-American roommate, glanced at the very obviously caucasian baby.

"Yeah... not so much..." Tucker replied, shaking his head.

"Danny?" Ben questioned, looking to his older brother. He had just moved into the apartment after living out of state. He was a professional hockey player and had just recently been traded to the New York Rangers.

Danny raised his hands in innocence. "Don't look at me. I've only been in town for a couple hours. I mean, I'm fast, but not that fast." Danny said, motioning to the baby.

By now, Ben was pacing nervously back and forth just behind the couch in the living room of the New York apartment. "This is not my baby. It can't be." Ben decided, throwing up his arms.

"Ben, I hate to break it to you, but she looks a lot like you." I informed him gently, standing up and tickling the baby's stomach. She responded with a slobbery gum grim. "And clearly her mom was sure enough you were the father to drop her off on your doorstep."

"Wait, wait, there's a note!" Danny announced as he rifled through a diaper bag that had been left alongside the baby. He pulled out the crumpled letter and unfolded it, scanning over it as he stood up from his seat on the couch. "Her name's Emma."

Ben's face contorted in thought, eventually evening out into a wide, optimistic smile. "I don't know any Emmas!" He said, as if in grand resolution.

I rolled my eyes. "Not the mom. The baby's name is Emma." I clarified, taking the baby as Tucker passed her to me. "Hi, Emma!" I said, my voice octave raising slightly. Tucker gave a small, awkward wave and the baby, Emma, waved back, if her small movement of her fingers and hand could be labeled as a wave.

"Hey, Ben. Did I ever tell you about that hot waitress I went out with named Emma?" Danny began, a smug grin on his face.

"Danny, focus! Who's the mother?" Ben requested, motioning towards the note that was still in Danny's possession.

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