This Story's Going Somewhere

Chapter 7 - Patrick

When Nora asked to come over for the rest of the day, I almost didn't know what to say. We had just walked out of the gynecologist's office, after scheduling her first ultrasound for a few weeks from now, which will confirm her due date for us. Right now, we were looking at sometime in March, but I had to admit, I was a little excited to know the exact day. Still, I was terrified of everything to come, and I could tell that Nora was too. Which is why, when she asked me that question the second we got in the car, I couldn't say no. "Of course," I said, staring at her for a moment before pulling out of the parking space. "You're always welcome, Nora." She only nodded, her hands pressed flat against her abdomen. It had to be ten times as scary for her, being that she now knew for certain that she had our baby in her. I was quiet for a moment, seeing that she didn't want to talk about it right now, but I couldn't really help myself after a while; I was worried about her. "Nora?" I asked quietly, making her look up at me with watery blue eyes. She was on the verge of tears. "Aw, sweetheart," I whispered, quickly pulling over and unbuckling my seatbelt. She was crying now, sobbing softly as I reached over and pulled her into my chest like I had at the doctor's office. "Don't," I whispered, "Please don't. I don't like to see you cry. This is all my fault. I was an idiot that night, and I caused all of this –"

                "No," Nora said, pushing away from me to look at my face. "Don't say that. I told you, it was both of us. And besides, I'm the one who actively tried to get you into bed that night. I just...I'm so fucking terrified, Patrick." She leaned back into her seat, running a shaking hand through her hair.

                "I know," I said, still looking at her with concern. "I am too. But we're in this together, and we don't have to do it alone. We have our friends, you know. And we'll talk to our parents soon. We'll get through this, Nora. I promise." She looked up at me then, her blue eyes searching my face as if she expected to find some kind of doubt there. I was full of doubt, but for her, I put on a brave face. I don't know what it was, but something about her made me want to be brave.

                "Okay," She whispered, wiping her hands over her eyes. "I'm sorry I'm such a mess," she added, and I frowned, reaching over to grasp her hand gently for a moment.

                "Don't apologize," I said, "It's fine." She smiled thankfully at me, and I moved to start the car again, wanting to get us back to my apartment so she could relax. It wasn't a long drive, though it was a fairly quiet one after that. When I pulled up to where Pete normally parked his car in the road out front, I climbed out and opened Nora's door for her. She thanked me, and I led us up the staircase and unlocked the front door to let us inside.

                Joe was walking by the door as we came in, headed for the kitchen, and he gave a smile and a wave, seemingly not surprised to see that I'd brought Nora home with me. "Hey guys," he called to us from the kitchen, "How'd it go?"

                "We're definitely having a baby," I called back, reaching for Nora's hand. She squeezed my fingers, and I tugged her over to the couch in front of the television. "Do you need anything?" I asked her quietly, and she shook her head.

                "Man," Joe sighed from the kitchen, "How are you guys handling it?"

                "We're good Joe," I told him, looking over the back of the couch to talk to him. Nora relaxed into the couch and laid her head back against the cushions, closing her eyes. "Is Pete here?"

                "Yeah, in his room," Joe said, walking back into the room with a bag of chips and a bottle of beer. He fell onto the recliner chair beside the window, and reached for the TV remote.

                While he did that, I got up and headed for Pete's room. Nora didn't budge, and I figured she would be okay without me for a while. I knocked gently on Pete's door, and he yelled for me to come in. I opened the door slowly, to find Pete lying on his bed with a notebook and a pencil. He was writing; lyrics probably. He looked up when I came in, and I shut the door behind me. "Hey," he said, setting the notebook down, "How'd it go?"