This Is Me and You Until We've Got Nothing Left

It was all hugs when I had arrived at my parents'. I hugged them back, not saying a word; my face was puffy from crying, and my throat hurt. The only thing I wanted to do was crawl into my bed and go to sleep.

My dad had taken me to the living room and sat me down. They asked me questions, relating mostly to my well being; all I could say was that I was alright. I was just tired; "I want to go to bed." I relayed.

"Have you eaten?" Amy inquired, "You should eat before you sleep."

I nodded agreeably, "Okay, yeah."

They both followed me into the kitchen and I sat at the table; my dad sat across from me while Amy got me a plate. I swallowed thickly, feeling my baby kick; "Pete doesn't want to be with me anymore." I confessed, "He says he can't be a father."

My dad's jaw slacked and he was dumbfounded for just a few seconds. It was like a flash that anger spread on his face, "What?"

"He said he couldn't do it." I continued, "So, it's just...it's just gonna be me and the baby."

Amy set a plate in of me and sat beside me, "Oh, Naomi..."

"It's...it's not okay," I mumbled, "But I'll deal...it's not the end of the world."

"That little prick." My dad spat.

"Dad, don't worry about it," I continued on mumbling, "It'll be okay, I can do it. After I finish school I'll get a job, I'll be able to take care of the baby and Hemingway," I smiled at the thought of little Hemingway. "It'll be alright."

"I was afraid of this." My dad muttered. "I knew this would happen."

"So it did, Lee, and Naomi is handling it. She isn't in tears now, is she?" Amy shot this at my dad; her voice calmed, "Be happy she isn't going off the rails, crying and throwing things."

My dad smiled faintly, "Alright."

"Dad, I can do this. Trust me."

He looked at me, "Okay, I trust you, Naomi."

"Thank you."


I wasn't as hung up as I thought I'd be about Pete. I was more determined to do it all on my own to show him up. Despite his suicide attempt, I was still pissed at him; I felt sorry for him, but not enough to make me forget what he had said.

He didn't exactly say he didn't want our baby, but he knew he couldn't do it. He said so; "I can't do this" and that was proof enough. I didn't need him, but I know our baby does.

I didn't really mean what I said; about wishing he had died. I probably would've broken apart if he was successful in killing himself. Saying that was just a way to make him hurt even more than I was hurting.

I'm not sure if it worked or not.

Mr. and Mrs. Wentz had called me to tell me that they were sorry I had left so abruptly. I had reluctantly told them what Pete had said and what I had; it was all just a mess. I told them not to worry, that I wouldn't cut my baby out of their lives.

"He'll come around." Mrs. Wentz said this sadly, "Pete's just not in his right mind."

I had no objection to her excuse.
It was all probably true.

"Yeah...yeah, I'm sure."

I lied to her; I wasn't sure.

At the house, I had gathered what little of Pete's things there was and put them in a box and set them in the hall closet. I tried not to hate the house, because it was the only home my baby and I would have for awhile. The main reason I hated the thought of it was because of Pete and his process of thinking this would make me, possibly, forgive him for not wanting to be a daddy. I couldn't care any less than I did for his actions. The only thing that I hated more than the house was Pete's thinking; fucking idiot.

Days had passed, I didn't see or talk to Pete. I didn't want to, he didn't reach out, and I didn't care. I spent the majority of my time like I usually did; school, Hemingway, and studying. I had gone to a doctor's appointment and got to find out what sex my baby was. I had been so nervous, I actually had to get up, run to the bathroom and threw up during the examination.

After all that, I got back on the exam table and let the ultrasound tech smear that blue goop on my belly and look around. My doctor had said I should put on more weight, even though I had gone up about 15 pounds in 2 months. With the wand scanning my pregnant belly, I could see my baby was a lot bigger than the last time.

"He's gotten big." The tech said.

My heart jumped into my throat, "He?"

She frowned, just slightly, at me, "Sorry, did you...was I not suppose to say?"

My doctor; Dr. Kay, shook her head, "No, Naomi wanted to know."

The tech, Sara, exasperated, relieved, "Oh. Okay."

"So, the baby's a boy?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yep." Sara nodded, smiling.

I bit at my bottom lip, grinning, "Oh, wow."

"Do you have a name picked out?"

I shook my head, "No...his grandmother wants me to name him after his father...Peter the fourth." They both laughed softly, "I'm not sure, yet."

"Whatever his name is, make sure he gains a bit more weight. He'll be here in 2 months, Naomi." Dr. Kay warned sweetly.

I nodded, "I will."

After the exam, I got a copy of the ultrasound to bring to Mrs. Wentz. Again, I was in awe of the photos; my baby looked so cute curled up inside of me. I was happy to learn he was a boy; I could finally name him properly.

I hummed to myself as I drove, thinking; Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz IV. I always did like the name Lewis, so I could call him Lewis. That way, Mrs. Wentz and I would both be happy with the name.

Heading to the Wentzs, I was still on a big happy high, that is, until I actually arrived. My entire smile was wiped clear from my face when I saw Pete there. He was sitting on the porch steps, tossing a blue ball to Pandora, who was chasing it and then bringing it on back to Pete.

His eyes met mine as I walked up; the color drained from his face. It took so much will to keep from rolling my eyes. I walked up, passed him and into the house; Mrs. Wentz had been in the kitchen when I entered; "Hi."

She smiled, "Hey, Naomi. How are you?"

"I'm just fine. I came from the doctors to bring you this," I slid the small square, white envelope to her. "It's a new copy of ultrasound photos."

She gasped slightly upon pulling them out, "Oh, how cute! Look at that, they're so big now!"

"I found out the sex, so get ready to scream." I jested to her.

She looked at me, "Yeah?"

"The baby is a boy."

Mrs. Wentz let out a small squeal of delight, rushed around the counter and pulled me into a hug. I laughed softly; she pulled back and then placed her hand on my protruding belly, "Oh, sorry to jolt you, little guy."

"What the heck is going on?" Mr. Wentz asked as he made his way in.

Mrs. Wentz turned to him and held out the photo, "It's a boy, Peter!"

His wondered from her face to the photo, "A boy?"

"Yes!" She exclaimed.

A grin broke out on his face, "We have to tell Pete."

My stomach dropped, but the excitement was still in the air. Mr. Wentz had gone out to the hall, calling for Pete, while I stood back and found my way in a chair at the counter. Mrs. Wentz went on gushing about with the ultrasound picture; soon, Mr. Wentz came in with Pete and told him.

Pete looked at the photo; he just stared. I watched them, not sure what to do; I didn't want say anything. Pete then looked at me, but didn't say anything; Mrs. Went came to me, "So, how is he? He's alright?"

"He's just fine," I forced a smile, "He's due the first week of June."

Mrs. Wentz cooed, "Oh, that's wonderful! What a birthday present, Pete!"

The tension between us was electrifying. My heart thumped, and all Pete could say was, "Yeah."

I inhaled, looking back at Mrs. Wentz, "I was thinking of naming him Lewis."

"Are you going to name him after Pete?" She asked softly.

I wanted to look at Pete, but I couldn't. He stood a few feet away, his dad came and sat beside me.

I swallowed, "Uh, y-yeah. Yes."

She clasped her hands and grinned, "Oh, how sweet!"

I couldn't help but to return the smile, "I figured since I'm going to call him Lewis, I might as well."

I spotted Pete leave; I heard him head up the stairs.

Mr. Wentz patted my back, "He'll come around."

"I'm not holding my breath." I said softly.

"He's going to New York tonight," Mrs. Wentz informed me, "Maybe you should go talk to him."

I shook my head, "We have nothing to say to each other."

She frowned a bit, "I'm sorry about how hard headed my son is."

"It's alright, I kind of expected it from Pete. I hope my son isn't the same way." I joked.

They both laughed, "Us, too."