Pregnant with My Roommate’s Dad by Sofia T Summers
Ian – Three Weeks Earlier
“So, Ian, what do you think?”
I turned to see my site manager of the last twelve years, Margo Wesaw. Her friendly brown eyes watched and waited for the approval she knew she deserved.
“It looks good, Margo.” I sighed, looking around the empty living room as some of the painters cleaned up their tools.
We were standing in the largest of the twenty apartments our crew had just finished renovating. In a Michigan winter, it was hard for a general contractor to keep steady work. Bad weather always held up jobs, and it helped nobody. My guys didn’t want to stay home. Margo didn’t want to see a decline in the business’s profits. Jobs like this, refinishing and installing those modern smart devices, offered good pay, safe from the whims of Mother Nature. The owner was happy enough with our work that we were going to start on a second property in a month. Until then, we had some different home renovations to pass the time.
One of our long-time crewmen, Big Ted, called from across the kitchen island, “Hey Boss, what’s with the face? That pending paycheck should have you grinning! I know it’s got me smiling!”
“It’s nothing to do with you guys,” I offered with a half-hearted chuckle. “Good job on the bathroom tiling, Ted.”
“Thanks, Boss.” He nodded, heading off to pack away his tools.
“So,” Margo said, “what is it then?”
Flipping her long dark braid of hair over her shoulder, I knew there would be no denying her. Margo has always known how to get things out of me. If the hard stare didn’t work, she could resort to clever questions that would have me chasing my own tail. There was no point in being stubborn with her. One way or another, she was going to get me talking about my problems.
Margo Wesaw might’ve been the perfect woman for me. She was pretty, smart, hard-working, and funny. We liked similar things and enjoyed working with our hands, and it was always interesting hearing about her indigenous heritage as a member of the Potawatomi tribe. If she weren’t such a proud lesbian with a devoted partner of eight years, we really could’ve had something special.
“Oh, come on,” I groaned. “Who am I always worrying about?”
Margo rolled her eyes, laughing at me as she teased, “How many guesses do I get?”
“One.”
“Oh, um, gee . . .” she mumbled, tapping her chin with all the bad acting she could muster. “Could it possibly be our lovely little angel, Brandy Weiss?”
“And we’ve got a winner!” I declared, moving into the master suite to check the new electrics there.
Leaning against the door frame, she asked, “What’s it this time?”
“She told me some interesting news over our family dinner last Sunday,” I muttered in confession.
“Interesting?” Margo repeated.
Once a month, my daughter, Brandy, promised to come home and have dinner with me like old times. We sat at the table I’d made and upon which I’d given Brandy her first bites of food. I didn’t have to turn her food into an airplane anymore, so we just talked. I knew it didn’t mean as much to her these days. She had her own life, and I didn’t want to impede her college experience. Still, the old house felt empty without her. It was nice to have her make it feel like a home again.
It just wasn’t as nice when she announced that she’d failed some classes during the fall.
“Brandy failed two courses last semester,” I confessed wearily. “She says she’s covered her tracks and taken some online courses, but she still needs another History and an Eastern Culture to graduate this spring. Even if she has the required number of credits, they won’t let her go without meeting those requirements.”
My frustration was returning, even as I tried to keep my cool. It wasn’t like Brandy to squander her opportunities. She was always an honor-roll student as a kid. She got a gold award as a girl scout. Brandy was a good kid. I didn’t understand what was becoming of her now.
“College can be tough,” Margo empathized. “It was hard enough for me to get through high school with my dyslexia. I never thought I was a good student until I started taking construction courses at the community college. Maybe she just needs a good tutor? That’s what helped me get through the endless reading material.”
“I wish it were just that,” I lamented. “She needs new friends.”
Specifically, she needed to distance herself from one girl in particular—her roommate, Maxie Lawson. Something changed in Brandy when she moved in with that girl. Every time I bothered to check my one social media account, I could see her with the Southern girl from Appalachia, all smiles and flashing green eyes.
The two girls seemed to be attached at the hip. They were at parties, tailgating at sporting events with her sorority sisters, or out at some restaurant or bar taking pictures of their food. Ever since, Brandy’s solid grade-point average took a hard nose dive. Her B-plus average was skating on the thin ice of a C-minus, but that didn’t scare Brandy into cracking open one of her expensive textbooks. She just kept swearing she was fine. If I tried to say anything, Brandy would fly into a fit. I didn’t know what to make of it.
Everywhere I looked, there was no sign of the princess I knew. It was like she’d been consumed by someone else.
Margo chuckled. “Well, you aren’t going to like every one of Brandy’s friends. She’s what, twenty-two now?”
“No,” I corrected. “Brandy will be twenty-two this August.”
“Either way, she’s old enough to make her own choices. You’re gonna have to let your baby bird fly, no matter how much you want to keep her in your nest!” Margo teased me.
“She was perfectly safe there,” I grumbled, annoyed with Margo’s sound logic.
Margo shrugged. “Maybe, but she can’t grow into anything better if you keep her trapped there.”
“Or I can keep her from crashing to the ground,” I suggested.
“We all crash and burn sometimes.” Margo laughed. “It’s getting back up that matters.”
“I just don’t want her grabbing the wrong hand when she needs someone to help her up.”
“She might,” Margo confessed, “but eventually, she’ll find the right one for herself.”
“Hey, Margo!” one of the crewmen called from down the building’s hall.
“I’ll be right back, Ian,” Margo insisted. “Feel free to go wallow in the jetted tub we installed. It’s really nice.”
Laughing a little, I watched as Margo sauntered off to see what needed her attention. I loved Margo like the sister I never had, but she didn’t have kids. She fostered rescued herding dogs with her partner. Those collies and shepherds required a lot of attention, but that wasn’t like holding your baby for the first time. The moment I looked into Brandy’s blue eyes, I was wrapped around her tiny pink finger.
I had only been nineteen when Brandy was born. Her mother, Kate, and I had started dating when we were just kids in high school. I asked her to the homecoming dance, and I swore then that she was everything I wanted. She had these wide baby-blue eyes and honey blonde hair. Kate was the stuff of teenage dreams, but eventually, you have to wake up.
We were still dreaming by the time we graduated. Kate and I took a road trip to Las Vegas where we were married by some cheesy Elvis impersonator. It had all been a funny game, a good laugh. By the time we woke up, it was too little, too late. Brandy was about to arrive, and our marriage wasn’t built for tough times.
Kate wasn’t made to be a mother.
I didn’t want to accept it for a long time. From the minute I learned about Brandy, I loved her with all my heart. I did everything I could to give her a life she deserved, but Kate . . . she struggled with those emotions. She was too scared of being trapped in a life she didn’t want. Kate took a stewardess job out of Detroit, saying it was all for Brandy. Sometimes, Kate came home on weekends to spend some time with us.
Then, she started getting busier. She took on more international flights. By the time Brandy was eight, her mother was nothing more than a woman who mailed her boxes on her birthday and Christmas. I had been Brandy’s only parent ever since.
We were the daring duo, taking on the suburbs of Ann Arbor. I got her into swimming lessons, scouts, and summer camp. I piled her and all her friends into my truck for Saturday trips to the local lakes’ beaches. I’d been the one to scrimp and save to give her the college experience I never had. As much as I wanted Brandy to live her own life, it was hard for me to stand by and watch her throw away her chances time and again.
It made me feel like I hadn’t done enough . . . like it was all my fault.
Shuffling around the apartments smelling of fresh paint and carpet, I wallowed in my own memories, good and bad. I’d been thinking a lot about the last twenty-one years. Brandy’s upcoming graduation, however tenuous, was the final step before setting her free to fly out into the wide world. I didn’t know if I was ready to be a distant spectator of her life.
I glanced over the paint job on some kitchen cabinets as my phone vibrated in my coat pocket. Speaking of the little angel, Brandy’s name scrolled across the screen.
“Hey, Angel,” I greeted her. “What’s new with you?”
A squeal echoed from the other line.
“Oh, Daddy!” she exclaimed. “Thank God you picked up! My whole apartment is sinking like the Titanic!”
“What?” I pressed, not sure what she meant.
“The, um, pipes in the ceiling burst!” she explained as she scurried around her place. “I got back from class, and the sofa’s soaked! We’re trying to save the kitchen too!”
I pulled my phone away from my face before letting out a heavy groan. From the moment I stepped into that building, I knew it was bad news. The building was over sixty years old, and it looked like nobody had bothered to care for it through all those decades. Their landlord was some dunce who’d inherited the property with no idea of what that meant.
I doubted he even knew what a screwdriver looked like. He probably just thought it was a kind of cocktail.
I urged Brandy to pick another place, but the girls had some friends in the building. They liked the proximity to campus. I couldn’t stop them from signing their lives away, tying themselves to this inevitable moment. Brandy had stumbled again, and I needed to be there to help her back up onto her feet.
“Okay, Brandy,” I sighed. “I can be there in about fifteen or twenty minutes. Can you hang tight for that long?”
“I’ll try not to drown!” she fretted before shouting out something else I couldn’t quite hear.
“Okay, see you soon,” I told her. “Love you.”
“Thanks! Love you too!”
The phone line went dead.
As much as I complained about becoming less and less important in her life, it seemed there were still ways I could be useful. It didn’t matter how I earned my place in her new life. With Brandy, I would take whatever I could get.
“Margo!” I called out, letting her know I was heading out.
“See?” Margo encouraged me after I explained. “Brandy knows who to call when it matters most, so go get ’em, Pops!”
I cracked a smile for her, shaking my head as I hustled out into the bleak January afternoon. It was stupid to be happy over some busted pipes, but I couldn’t help it. Driving my truck through the gray remnants of snow, a small smile lingered on my face.
My daughter still needed me.
