Chapter Twenty: Quinn

Chapter Twenty

Quinn

I cried when Archer left this morning. I didn’t mean to, and I tried really hard not to, but I’m full of so many damn hormones I can’t help it. Our goodbye lasted longer than it should, and he had to speed to make sure he’s home in time for his call-shift.

He got up early, and after lying in bed worrying about him falling asleep while driving, I called him, and we talked for half an hour. After that, I ended up falling back asleep, and now that I’m up again, I’m keeping my phone by my side. Archer should be arriving at his place in the next half hour or so, and he promised to call as soon as he got in so I know he’s okay.

Not wanting to risk sitting around my apartment feeling sorry for myself the rest of the weekend, I get dressed and go get out of the house, going to the pet store for cat food and litter. I usually order everything off A****n because what’s the point of advancing technology if I’m not going to use it, right?

I’ve been ordering groceries for the last year and I don’t think I can ever go back. It’s just a pain lugging everything from my car to the elevator. A couple on the floor below me have a collapsible wagon, and I used to think it was silly. Now I think it’s genius.

Mom calls as I’m lugging the heavy cat litter down the hall, and I wait to call her back until I’m inside and the litter is in the foyer, where it’ll probably stay for the rest of the day at least.

“Hey, hun,” Mom says when I call her back. “How are you feeling?”

“All right. The morning sickness is slowly fading. Emphasis on the slow.”

“You’re in the second trimester. It should be gone soon. Hang in there.”

I put the phone on speaker and go to the sink, washing my hands. “Yeah. I’m only fifteen weeks. I still have so far left to go.”

“It’ll go by faster than you think,” she says and pauses. I know what she’s waiting for, and I throw her a bone and just say it.

“Archer and I talked about living arrangements after Emma is born. We’re going to move in together.”

“Ahh, yay! That’s what I was hoping to hear. Is he moving in with you?”

I grab a piece of cheesecake and sit on the couch. “It still depends on where he gets a job, but he’s applying to the different hospitals around here.” I stick my fork into my cheesecake. “And yesterday we ran into some famous doctor, or something who I think runs the fellowship Archer’s hoping to get into.”

“That sounds promising.”

“I think so too.”

“We miss you around here. Both of you. Jackson asks for Archer every day. That boy hasn’t forgotten who saved his life.”

“We might be able to come in like two weeks. Archer works next weekend, and I’m going to Indy to see him.”

“It’ll be nice once you two are in the same city.”

“I know. I don’t like this long-distance thing. I miss him.”

“Have you thought more about the baby shower? I know you said Archer is done with his residency at the end of the year and will start a new job right away.”

“That’s the hope.”

“Does he know his schedule far in advance?”

“I’m actually not sure how far, but I think so.”

“Let me know. I was thinking we could do it mid-December. You’ll be close to the third trimester, so I know it’s a little early, but it’s not like we’re doing it next week. And if we have it on the fifteenth or sixteenth, it’s far enough from Christmas it shouldn’t be an issue.”

“That could work. I’ll ask Archer about his schedule the next time we talk.”

“Great. And if that doesn’t work, then we can plan for the end of January.”

“We’ll know where we’re living by then.”

“Are you taking time off work after the baby is born?”

“I’m not sure,” I start and tell her pretty much everything Archer and I talked about. Mom thinks I should be a stay-at-home mom, which is appealing in a way but makes the feminist in me question if it’s oppressive. Though in the end, I suppose the most anti-feminist thing is going against what I want. And I’m leaning more and more towards wanting to be home with my baby.

“Whatever you decide will work out,” Mom goes on. “It makes me happy to hear you and Archer talking long-term. I don’t want you to be with him just because you’re having his child, but raising that baby as a family is the best thing.”

“Yeah,” I say, not totally agreeing with her. Raising the baby in a happy, healthy home is the best, not forcing a relationship so she can have two parents in the same house. “He’s a great guy. I’ve always thought so.”

Mom laughs. “I never would have thought you and Archer would end up together. But yes, he’s a good guy and we like him. And it seems like Dean’s coming around.”

“Finally,” I stress. “He’s been a total baby about this.”

“You have to understand—”

“Mom,” I interrupt. “I get he’s your kid and all, but come on.”

“Fine,” she agrees with a huff. “He’s always been my dramatic child.”

“So dramatic. Anyway, Archer and I are going on vacation together next month.”

“While pregnant? Are you sure that’s a good idea.”

I’m so glad Mom can’t see me roll my eyes right now.

*

“Morning,” I say to Raul, walking into the break room Monday morning. I woke up and didn’t feel sick today, which is enough of a small victory for me to talk to everyone in the office today.

“Hey, lady.” He adds slices of cucumber to his water. “Look at that little baby belly.”

“It popped more overnight, I swear.”

“You’re going to be all belly, I can see it now. My sister was small like you before she got knocked up. Looking at her from the back, you couldn’t even tell she was pregnant.”

“My feet might give me away.” I make a face and look down at my brand-new Gucci shoes. They fit like a glove at the store. And early this morning while I was sitting at my desk. But after standing and talking for just ten minutes, my ankles are looking a little puffy, and the straps of my heels are tight. Sorry, gorgeous metallic gold heels.

“Did you change your mind about letting us throw you a shower?” he goes on.

“I don’t know,” I say and get myself a cup of coffee. I add a tiny amount of regular and fill the rest up with decaf. “I feel weird knowing people are coming to a party for me and have to bring presents.”

“That’s the point of a shower. We all love you.”

Rene and Charlene come in and stop talking almost immediately. They both look impeccable, and I don’t understand how Charlene’s bun looks equally done up and effortless at the same time.

“Isn’t caffeine bad for the fetus?” Rene asks, eyes cold. Yeah, yeah. I get it. You’re jealous. You only wrote a dozen emails to your sister saying how you wished Archer knocked you up instead of me so you could quit and be a doctor’s wife. She really needs to learn not to send scathing emails about her boss on the company server…

“It’s fine in moderation.”

“Seems like a risk.”

I force a smile. “It’s not. My OB said it was fine and Archer—my boyfriend and the baby’s father who’s a doctor—also assured me it’s fine.” Maybe I’m being petty but fuck it. I’ll blame it on the hormones.

“Right. I guess it’s up to you in the end anyway.”

“Yeah. It is.” Raul catches my eye and raises his eyebrows. Most of the other people who work here fall into a similar category as me and were looked down on as nerds or dorks in high school and even college. It’s weird how something that happened so long ago still holds an effect on me.

I take my coffee into my office and go through emails, responding to clients and scheduling meetings for the rest of the week. I need to clear my vacation time with the few people above me, making sure it’s not going to interfere with anything we have going on. I don’t think it will, and since I haven’t taken any vacation yet this year, I doubt it’ll be an issue.

I really do have it good here, which is going to make it harder to leave. I don’t think there are many other places that are so up-to-date with the latest trends and technology while still being laid back and easygoing like this. I have no doubts I’ll enjoy being home with Emma, but I’m sure going to miss this place.

Tapping my pen against my planner, my mind starts to drift. I’ll be faced with opposition to whatever I choose. If I decide to be a stay-at-home mom, there will be plenty of people who will tell me I should contribute to my family by holding a job. And if I decide to come back to work, I won’t hear the end of it from others who think it’s the mother’s place to stay home and raise babies.

In the end, it comes down to what I want to do, and that’s all that matters. Trouble is, I’m still not sure what I want to do. Looking down at my belly, I shake my head.

“I’ll figure it out,” I tell her. “We still have time.”

Taking a drink of coffee, I get to work, reviewing a file and finding errors right away. It’s not an easy fix either, because changing one part creates change in other areas. Sighing, I lean back in my chair and give myself a minute before going and talking to those working on the project.

This part of my job isn’t something I’ll miss.

My phone dings with a text, lighting up from inside my purse. I roll my chair over to get it instead of getting up. It’s from Dean, texting in the group with Archer and me.

Dean: Have you picked a date for the baby shower yet? Kara keeps bugging me about our wedding shower and doesn’t want it to be close to your party.

Me: Why does it matter if they’re close together?

Dean: IDK. Kara thinks it’ll be too much for our side of the family or something.

Me: Mom’s not throwing the bridal shower. That makes no sense.

Dean: Can you just pick a date?

Me: We’re thinking December. Archer knows he’ll have a weekend off before Xmas

Dean: Are you sure on that? You don’t want to switch it?

I send an eye rolling emoji, having a feeling Kara is on the other side of his texts, telling him what to say. Dean felt betrayed by Archer, worried he lost his best friend, which is why he acted like an ass. Kara was on our side at first…and then realized her wedding isn't going to be the center of attention. Which is funny since she said she doesn’t like having all eyes on her.

Weddings bring out the best of us.

Me:  If you want to have your shower in December, then just say it. Archer and I really don’t care when we have it. I’m sure we can find at least one weekend off together before Emma is born to have a shower. Right, Arch?

Dean: Okay. Thanks. Kara is freaking out about next semester in school. She’s turned wedding planning into a part-time job.

Me: So this small, casual wedding is no more?

Dean: There are more people on the guest list then I actually know.

I laugh and shake my head. I don’t understand why people freak out so much over a wedding. I get that it’s a big deal and it symbolizes something huge. Love should be celebrated.

But not at the expense of going into debt.

Dean: Also, Kara doesn’t know what to do about the bachelorette party

Me: Aren’t her sisters planning it?

Dean: Yeah, I mean she doesn’t know if she should invite you or not. You can’t do anything.

Me: I can do lots of stuff.

Dean: You know what I mean, sis…

Me: I do. Tell her she doesn’t have to invite me. We can go out and drink another time.

Dean: Good plan. Another question…

Me: Yeah?

Dean: Do you still want to be in the wedding party?

I blink once. Twice. Three times. I know he’s only asking because Kara’s hoping I’ll say no.

Me: I want to be in it if I’m welcome.

Dean starts typing and stops to delete what he wrote several times. I look at my phone, waiting for him to respond. Now I know this is all Kara. Even if Dean didn’t want me in the wedding party, there’s no way in hell he’d risk the wrath of our mother. She’s going to be pissed.

Shaking my head, I put my phone down and get back to work. Five minutes later, Dean calls.

“Calling to kick me out of your wedding?” I ask. I’m being catty, but it’s Dean.

“Shut up.”

“Then why are you calling?”

He sighs. “Kara is worried about you being super pregnant at the wedding.”

“Super pregnant? Nice.”

“Well, you either will be, or you’ll have a newborn.”

“I know.”

“Right now, we have an even number of bridesmaids and groomsmen, but we can’t assume you’ll be there.”

“So you’d rather not have me?”

“No,” he rushes out. As annoyed as I am with him, I do feel a little bad for the guy. This wedding is turning levelheaded Kara into a bridezilla. “I want you there. But if you don’t want to be there, it’s okay too.”

“Gee, way to be subtle.”

He laughs. “Yeah, that did sound bad. What I mean is, I don’t want you to feel bad if you can’t be there. I know you and how you feel bad about everything.”

“That is true, but I really don’t think I’ll feel bad if I’m pushing out a baby the day of your wedding. It’s not like I’m bailing because I’m too lazy to go.” I pick up the pen again and start tapping it against my desk, not realizing how much this is upsetting me. “You can’t punish me for being pregnant.”

“I’m not!”

“It feels like you are. And let me remind you that my due date was determined before you picked your wedding date. You’re acting like I chose when I got knocked up just to spite you.”

“That’s not true.” Dean lets out an exasperated sigh. “I’m sorry, okay?”

“Okay.”

A few seconds of silence tick by. “Mom said you and Archer are going to Hawaii?”

“I think so. We’re going somewhere in October. We still have to pick a place.”

“That’ll be nice. Get a chance to relax before the baby comes and all.”

“That’s our thinking.” I subconsciously rub my belly. “Are you still weirded out by us?”

“Yes,” he says honestly. “But it’s cool too. My best friend is the father of my niece. He’s family now.”

“Right. It’ll make holidays more fun for you to have him there.”

“It will, and I think we’ll have to bust out some of our old traditions. You might not know about them.”

I laugh. “I don’t think I want to.”

“Hey, sorry to cut you short, but Dad and I have to head out and see a client.”

“Thanks for calling.”

“Of course, sis.”

We hang up and I feel a little better, though it still stings to know Kara is more concerned about having an equal number of bridesmaids and groomsmen in her photos than having me there.

Getting up to pee, I force myself to talk to Mike and Samantha, who incorrectly coded the new program. They took the news better than I hoped. There were no tears at least.

My phone dings when I sit back at my desk. It’s Archer, replying to the group messages. He was in surgery and missed it all, but doesn’t care about dates either. He calls right after that, and I answer on the first ring.

“Hey, babe. Are you okay?”

I know exactly what he’s asking about. “Yeah. Dean called and tried to explain. Kara is obsessing over things being perfect and is worried I’m going to go into labor at the altar or something.”

He chuckles. “If you’re still pregnant by then, it’s entirely possible.”

“Oh my God, don’t even say that. How’s your day going? You’re out of surgery already? It’s early.”

“I just finished my second procedure for the day. I started at six a.m.”

“I am not a morning person.”

“I’ve noticed.”

I prop my feet up, trying to hold off on taking my shoes off. They’re just so pretty. “I’m going to look up resorts and plane tickets during lunch. Want me to send you options?”

“Sure. I’m looking forward to seeing you in your bikini all week.”

“Baby bump and all.”

“You’re still sexy, Quinn.”

I smile. “I’m glad you think so.”

“I do. And I keep thinking about you in that lingerie. I should have taken a photo.”

“I did take one. Want me to send it to you?”

“Do you really have to ask?”

“I’ll send it then.”

A page goes out for Dr. Jones, echoing through the phone. “That’s me,” he says. “Gotta go. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

I quickly send the photo, smiling when I think of Archer’s face when he opens the text. Setting my phone down, I get back to work, only making it so far as pulling up a new file before Archer texts me back. He’s at work and can’t send me a sexy photo back, but just a selfie of him in his scrubs is enough for me. I flip my phone over but don’t just see Archer’s name.

I see Archer’s name next to Dean’s…in the group message we were just texting in.

Oh God. No. No, no, no, no. I didn’t—I mean I couldn’t—but maybe. I madly unlock my phone.

“Oh my God.”

I did. I sent a sexy photo of myself to Archer and my brother. I might as well start digging my own grave now because I’m officially dead.

“Fuck.” I start typing something only to stop. What the hell do I say after this?

Archer: Thanks, babe, but I don’t think Dean wants to see that. Sorry, buddy. Don’t really wash your eyes with bleach. It could make you blind.

Me: Delete this whole thread, Dean. Now.

I space out my words, trying to bury the image so he won’t see it when he opens the text.

Me: Don’t

Me: Even

Me: Look

Me: Just

Me: Delete

Archer: What are you doing?

Me: Burying the image. OMG OMG

Archer: So you don’t want me to screenshot it and send again?

Me: NO

I set my phone down, laughing to keep from crying. Sucking it up, I call Dean. His phone rings. And rings. And rings.

And then my mother answers. I don’t know if this is a blessing or a curse.

“Hey, honey! Dean’s out on a job with Dad. He left his phone at home.”

“Hi, Mom.” If I could internally cringe any harder, I’d turn inside out.

“They won’t be back until later. Is something up?”

“Uh, not really.”

“It’s good to see you two talking again,” Mom says.

I close my eyes, bracing myself for what I’m going to say. There’s no point in denying it, in acting shy and trying to pretend like Archer and I are waiting until marriage. I’m pregnant, for fuck’s sake. “Mom, I need a favor.”

“Sure, hun. What is it?”

“I accidentally sent a sexy photo of myself to Dean and Archer when I meant to send it to only Archer. Obviously. Can you delete it?”

A few seconds of stunned silence tick by. “Oh, well, you shouldn’t send images like that, Quinn. You of all people know what happens on the internet does not stay on the internet.”

I don’t bother telling her that statement doesn’t quite make sense. “Mom, please?”

“I don’t want to see it. Can you hack in and delete it or something?”

“If I could, I wouldn’t be asking you this very embarrassing favor. Just open the texts and delete the thread. You won’t see the picture. I buried it with text.”

“Okay.” Mom pulls the phone away from her ear. My heart is thumping and I’m pretty sure I’m just a ghost right now after I died of embarrassment. “It’s gone.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“That’s something I never thought I’d have to do,” she laughs. “Especially not from you.”

“I know.” I shake my head at myself. “I was trying to send it fast and wasn’t paying attention. Archer, Dean, and I have had a group chat going for a while.”

“That’s good news. Those two need to get along.”

“It’s not Archer who’s not getting along,” I say, automatically becoming defensive. “Dean’s the drama queen, remember?”

“Be nice to your brother, but yes, I remember. And it’s a good thing he left his phone because this wouldn’t have gone over well.”

“Oh, I know. I need to get back to work. Thanks again, Mom.”

I hang up and put my head in my hands, and then text Archer, double checking that it’s only him I’m texting. I resend the picture and tell him that I had to ask my mother to save me.

I’m never going to live this down.

It takes a while to get back into the groove of things for work, but by lunch, I’ve moved past my stupid mistake. I go to find Marissa so I can make her walk with me to get hotdogs.

Jacob is walking in as I’m leaving my office. Oh, shit. I forgot I told him we could have lunch sometime when he came back from out of town. Is it too late to turn around and pretend I forgot something in my office?

“Quinn! Hey!”

Yep. It’s too late. “Hey, Jacob. How was the trip?”

“Decent. San Francisco is a nice city. Are you still able to grab lunch?”

He came all the way from his office, and I technically did tell him yes. “I, uh,” I mumble, looking around the office. We’re surrounded by people and I don’t want to embarrass the guy. “Sure.” I’ll let him down gently. “Did you have anywhere in mind? I was going to grab a hot dog from the vendor on the corner. We can sit in the courtyard and eat.”

“I actually made us reservations at Mickey’s.”

Mickey’s is a little authentic Italian place a few blocks from here. They have the best cheese ravioli in the city. And it’s also where we went on our first date.

“Mickey’s?” I echo. “I haven’t been there in a while.”

“I figured so. It’s hard getting a table there.”

“Yeah, how’d you manage that?”

“I helped Mick’s son build a robot for his science fair. I have priority seating any time now.”

“Ohh, look at you, you baller.”

He leans back and narrows his eyes, nodding. I laugh and look back at my office. “Let me grab my purse then.”

“Okay, great.”

I debate on asking Marissa to ‘invite herself’ along to save me from any potential awkwardness. But I owe this to Jacob. If he’s going to try and ask me out again, I want to be the one to let him down easy. We didn’t have a passionate, wild, love and lust-filled relationship, but we’re friends.

We get into the elevator together, neither speaking, and stand against the mirrored wall to let the little space fill with others. I put my hand on my stomach, bracing for the slight drop to make my stomach flip-flop.

“How are you feeling?” Jacob asks, flicking his gaze to my hand.

“Better now that I’m—wait, you know?”

“That you’re pregnant?” he asks with a laugh. “I liked your announcement photo on I*******m.”

“Oh yeah. You did. So you know Archer and I are together then, right?”

“I assumed so. I mean, you are pregnant.”

My brows pinch together. “So you’re not…”

“Trying to take you out on a date?” He laughs again. “No. I mean, if you’d let me take you out, I would. Archer’s a lucky guy.” He takes a step closer. “I have a business opportunity and we want you?”

“Are we finally building life-sized animatronic dinosaurs?”

“Close. Dragons.”

“Even better.”

He smiles and flicks his eyes to a few of my co-workers. I nod, knowing that this isn’t something we can talk about in the elevator. The ride down takes forever, and my feet are aching by the time we’re out on the sidewalk.

“I worked on a project for Henry Gibbons last year.”

“I remember.” Henry Gibbons is an environmental engineer who’s made some great advancements in protecting the oceans.

“He wants to start his own company with a focus on energy saving.”

“And he wants me?”

“Yeah. You’re the best at what you do, and we need someone who can develop and write code.”

“Then you came to the right person.”

Jacob smiles. “Nothing’s been set in stone yet, and we’re just spitballing but need to get a team more or less established before we go through with things.”

“Go on.”

“He has office space in Lincoln Park, and during the start-up phase we’ll have to meet several times a week, but this will eventually turn into something you can mostly do from home. It’s a ways out—we’re still looking for investors—so don’t worry about giving me a yes or no to this. Just let me know if you’re interested.”

Writing code from home and developing advancements in technology that can help save the world? “Hell yes, I’m interested.”