A Second Chance at a First Impression

Jon looked at me, his mouth ajar. His eyes stared at me, trying to find a hint of humour or untruth about my demeanour. But I kept a straight face, letting him know I was completely serious.

“So Brendon…and Oli?” he said, his mouth still hanging as though he were trying to catch flies.

“Yeah, we went to school together and at one of the parties at the end of senior year, we slept together. And right after we graduated I moved out to New York to go to college. But then I found out I was pregnant and college was out of the question.” I spilled, speaking very quickly.

“What about your parents?” he asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Well…” I stumbled; family was a touchy subject for me. Looking around the café, I tried to find a suitable way to say what I was thinking. “They disowned me.” I stated, putting it simply. “They said they didn’t want anything to do with me. Thankfully I’d been saving up from the few jobs I’d had over the years and I had just enough to put a deposit on an apartment, albeit a very small apartment.”

“Oh God,” he sighed, the all-too familiar looks of pity welling up in his eyes. “I’m so sorry.” He whispered.

“Don’t be, there wasn’t anything you could have done.” I patted his hand gently before looking down at Oli. His eyelids were fluttering and his head was swaying, he was exhausted. I lifted him up onto my lap and his head fell onto my shoulder – he was out like a light.

“So, how could you afford everything? I mean, with no help from Brendon, no help from your family, what did you do?” He seemed genuinely interested in my answer.

“Sorry, but do you want to come back to my apartment? It’s just that Oli doesn’t sleep very well and I think it’s best if he sleeps in his room.” I said, standing up and gathering my things with my one free arm, before even hearing Jon’s response.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” He grabbed his hoodie and followed me.

Walking down the breezy New York City street, I answered Jon’s question. “Well, I worked two jobs non-stop before Oli was born until I was 8 months pregnant then they sent me home because me doctor had told them not to let me work anymore. And after he was born I worked a part-time job. My neighbours or my friend looked after Oli.” I slid Oli over onto my other hip, “but now he goes to pre-school, so I work the hours he’s at school.”

“Oh, you seem to have this all worked out, don’t you?” Jon said with a smirk finding its way to his lips.

“Nope, I’m just being sensible, making sure everything’s okay for Oli. I haven’t bought anything for myself in a good two years, unless I really, really needed it. I’ve just learnt to put his needs before my own.”

As we walked down the road, I felt more and more comfortable with Jon, he was a nice, easy-going guy.

We reached our apartment building, with Oli in one arm; I fumbled around trying to find my keys.

“Here,” Jon said lifting Oli from my arms with ease, not disturbing the sleeping toddler.

I then found the keys within seconds and let us into the building. The lift ride was silent, but we only lived two floors up, so it was short.

Once I’d let us in and I began to look around the apartment, I inwardly wished I’d bothered to tidy up before we left.

Whizzing around the living room, I picked up blankets, toys, books, DVDs trying to arrange the place to look half-way decent.

When I stood up, blew the few flopping strands of hair away from my face to see Jon standing awkwardly by the door still holding Oli.

“Um, where’s his room?” He asked, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

I lead him round the corner into Oli’s room; Jon laid him down and tucked him in like a true professional.

“Wow, you’re good at that.” I smiled as he moved the blanket up to Oli’s chest after taking off his shoes.

“Having one niece and three nephews under the age of six kinda prepares you moments like this.” He smiled.

Back in the living room, I offered him a drink or something to eat, which he politely declined.

I sat down across from him on the small coffee table.

“Okay, so I need to find a way to tell Brendon about Oliver. I just don’t want him to freak out about it.” Jon looked to the ground, his fingers on his temples. “You know him better than I do, so you got any ideas?”

“Well-” he was cut off by the sound of his cell phone ringing.

After some messing around he answered the call, he looked at me quickly before saying, “hey Bren.” He excused himself to the hall to finish the call.

I tensed, although he was on the other end of the line and he was talking to Jon, not me I had the odd sensation that he knew what was going to happen. How his life was going to change. But then I talked some sense into myself, how could he possibly know what was going to happen. It wasn’t like he was Rain Man or something.

Jon re-entered the room and plopped back down on the couch with a thud.

“Brendon’s coming to pick me up.” He said shortly.

“What?!” I whisper-shouted, in hope of not waking Oli.

“He’s coming to pick me up in about five minutes,” he said, slowly this time.

“Oh God, does that mean I have to tell him now?” I said frantically.

Jon nodded hopefully.

“How could you do this to me?!” I poked him in the chest.

“He needs to know Katy!” He said, standing up also.

I began breathing heavily; doing some of the Lamaze breathing techniques I learnt when pregnant, they work wonders in situations like that.

The five minutes passed in a flash and before I knew it, there was a buzz letting us know Brendon was at the door.

I answered the buzzer. His crackly voice said through the receiver “Uh, my friend Jon is here…I think.”

“Yeah, come on up, apartment 20.” I said, pressing the button giving him access to the building.

I paced up and down the front room, trying to collect my thoughts. When there was a knock at the door. I stood, frozen in the middle of the room; Jon went to open the door. I heard faint greetings and a ‘come on in, man’ from Jon and some confused words from Brendon.

He came into the room and stood, and just as Jon had, awkwardly at the door.

I took him in, he was wearing a red t-shirt and dark blue skinny jeans that were so tight I was sure they’d been spray-painted on. On his face he wore Ray-Ban wayfarer sunglasses with black rims and blacked out lenses. He looked like a guy was trying not to be noticed.

“Hey,” I walked up to him tentatively and stuck my hand out for him to shake. He did so.

“Hey there,” he smiled like he was confused and slightly scared- although I would have been too.

I couldn’t stop myself, I let it slip out, “Brenny.” It was what I called him all through Senior Year.

“Katy?” he gasped, taking off his sunglasses and looked me up and down as if to confirm his eyes weren’t lying to him.

“Yep, it’s me.” I did a little twirl like it actually backed up my statement. He walked over to me and wrapped me in a hug. “Almost 5 years,” he whispered.

We sat down and began to reminisce about school, he told me about his band, I tried to avoid talking about myself, because everything that had happened in between us seeing each other involved Oli.

“So, what’s been up with you?” he asked, smiling that irresistible smile of his.

“Uh, come with me…” I grabbed his hand, not caring if it was too forward and led him to Oli’s room.

“Whoa, you have a kid?” he said, eyes wide open as he watched Oliver sleep.

“Yeah,” I said, trying to hold out on telling him the truth.

Jon nudged me in the back. “How old is he?” Brendon asked.

“Four, almost five.”

He thought for a spilt second, “so you got pregnant after we graduated from High School?”

“No, I got pregnant in Senior Year.” I smiled weakly, I felt physically sick.

“Okay, cool.” He smiled, “I’m proud of you Katy,” he chuckled.

I knew I had to do it.

“His name is Oliver Benjamin Thomas, Brendon, he’s your son.”