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more out of habit than anything else.
    “Where do you think I’m
going? Home. I’m sure as hell not staying here tonight. I can’t even look at
you right now.”
    She grabbed her purse and
keys, ripped open the door. Before leaving, she turned to me, her eyes
radiating anger and pain.
    “I don’t need either of
you, Ricky. I’ll do this on my own if I have to. I didn’t tell Bill, by the
way. You can if you want. You seem to be good at that.”
    Words hurt, and hers
pierced my heart with the cold, alien sting of a knife to the chest.
    As much as it pained me,
as much as it turned my insides to jelly, I let her leave. I watched her turn
her back on me and storm out of my apartment, impotent and unable to say or do
a single damned thing.
    I collapsed on my rundown
couch with my head resting in my hands. The door shut behind me with a quiet clack that sounded like one thing.
    Finality.

CHAPTER 10
     
     
     
     
    I pounded on the door of
Bill’s Plainsboro condo. For the entire half hour it took me to drive from my
place in Lawrence, I entertained notions of what I’d do when I saw him, thought
of what I’d say. Would I stare him down, expecting him to wilt under my withering
gaze? Would I sucker punch him? Better yet, maybe I’d give him the
ever-dramatic backhand to the mush. I was pissed beyond measure. I’d nearly
slipped on the sponge Cat threw at me the night before. That dumb, innocuous
sponge served as a gritty reminder of the bombshell that blew up my life.
    But why was I so angry at
Bill? Truth be told, part of me felt that if he’d kept his mouth shut none of
this would have happened, that I’d move along in ignorant bliss thinking the
baby was mine and dealing with it accordingly. Cat had said she wanted to tell
me that it may not be mine, but I wasn’t so sure.
    I wasn’t so sure of
anything.
    Three minutes of straight
knocking later, I heard some rustling from inside and a muted “Yeah, yeah. I’m
coming.”
    Bill opened the door,
wearing boxers and a scowl. His hair stood on end.
    He rubbed his eyes. “Rick?
It’s eight-thirty in the morning, man. What’re you doing here? You know I sleep
in on Saturdays.”
    “You,” I poked him in the
chest, “are a fucking dick .”
    The building had been in
the process of waking up, and one of Bill’s neighbors, a short, fat man from two
doors down looked at me through dirty glasses as he picked up his Times .
It wasn’t a pleasant look, but I didn’t care.
    “What the shit are you
looking at?” I yelled at Neighbor Guy. “Can’t you see I’m having a dialogue
with my friend here?” The man jumped, fumbled his newspaper, and ran
into his apartment, slamming the door behind him.
    Bill was too surprised
and sleepy to speak. I shoved my way into his condo, giving him a solid
shoulder check for good measure. He scoped out the breezeway in either
direction then closed the door.
    “Jesus Christ, Rick. What
the hell are you doing?”
    “I thought we were
friends, Bill.” He stood, red-faced and fuming. Bill could pound me into the
ground like a railroad spike straight out of Looney Tunes , but my anger
blocked out all concern for my personal safety. “I thought you could keep a
secret. What I told you about the pregnancy was said in confidence. You know,
like a non-disclosure agreement? You get that, don’t you, Mr. Wannabe Gordon
Gecko? But noooo. Big mouthed Bill had to go and run his mouth.” I flopped onto
his recliner.
    He ran a hand through his
nappy hair and sat down across from me.
    “I was only trying to
help.”
    I had to laugh. “Helpful
would have been keeping your pie hole shut.”
    “Come on, man. A kid?
Which one of us is ready for that?”
    “What makes you an expert
on what I’m ready for or not? Don’t project your bullshit onto me, man.”
Puffing out my chest, I laid on my best Bill voice. “Hey, I’m only
twenty-three. I don’t want kids. Ever.”
    Bill launched himself out
of his seat, two hundred-forty pounds of