Pregnant with My Roommate’s Dad by Sofia T Summers
Ian
I’d given the girls thirteen days to get settled into their completed corners of the house, but it was time to get started on the next leg of renovations. Based on my agreement with Lily, I had to oversee an entire kitchen overhaul. The room was desperate for new floors and cabinets. Plus, the oversized butler’s pantry and tight breakfast nook were fairly useless spaces. I’d drawn up plans to add in a full-sized laundry room, making space to expand the kitchen by a few feet.
Once I got measurements for the cabinet makers, we could begin transforming the room, and I’d work on finishing the new master bedroom in the attic. I couldn’t remember how far the crew had gotten up there, but I knew the bathroom was all but painted. I didn’t have the eye for things like that, though. Margo would have to pick out the colors for me.
I’d ask her opinion when I reached the new job site that afternoon.
For now, it felt like a safe bet to drive by the century-old bungalow on a Thursday morning, passing by rows of other old houses and mature oak trees. The quaint house painted in fresh Williamsburg blue with white trim looked leagues beyond its neighbors, and that was before I landscaped the overgrown yard.
Brandy’s little hatchback and Maxie’s large red four-door Jeep were parked out front, leaving me to pull my truck up under the carport. I wasn’t surprised to see the cars. It was half-past eleven, but the girls walked to class most days. It was faster than trying to find a space on campus.
Walking up onto the covered back porch, I was surprised to find the back door unlocked. I’d have to remind them of the importance of locking their doors when they left.
I stepped into the outdated kitchen that smelled of coffee. The drab shades of dark brown made the room look darker than it was, even with the wide window over the old sink letting in sunlight. It made Brandy’s aqua-blue dishes look vibrant while sitting dirty on the counter.
I began measuring the counter’s depth when footsteps stopped in the doorway leading from the dining room.
“Uh, what are you doing here?”
My eyes got caught in the sight of Maxie with an empty blue mug in her hand. Her face held all the disrespectful contempt I’d become accustomed to seeing, but I wasn’t ready to look at her body. She wore an untied cream-colored satin robe, and the fabric was dotted with little red hearts matching the scarlet slip she wore underneath. Its hem barely reached past the curve of her hips, and the neckline draped across her full breasts. Against the dull kitchen colors, the red in her mahogany hair was all the more noticeable.
Maxie Lawson was the image every red-blooded man dreamed about, but she couldn’t know that.
My hands, itching to reach out toward those downy waves of her hair, balled up into unrelenting fists. The faint scent of night-blooming flowers wafted around me, and it filled me with frustration. She couldn’t do this to me. Maxie was just some black-sheep girl who had the most colorful eyes I’d ever seen.
Grumbling in discontent, I demanded to know, “Why aren’t you in class? Don’t you have a class together right now?”
“Yeah, Buddhism.” She sighed. “Attendance isn’t mandatory.”
She looked unaffected as she poured herself another cup of coffee. I would’ve killed to be sitting in a college class at twenty-two, but I had a toddler to raise and full-time work at my father’s contracting business. My college experience was community college night courses for a two-year business degree. This girl didn’t even know how lucky she had it.
“It’s what, the fifth day of this class?” I shot back. “And you’re already ditching it?”
Maxie rolled her eyes as she pulled a carton of hazelnut creamer from the fridge. She leaned against the cabinets in the far corner, sunlight hitting her heartbreaking face.
“Yeah, well, it’s not the class I’m worried about.”
“You should be concerned with every class.” I huffed, tossing aside my measuring tape. “What if you missed something important?”
“The lectures are posted online.” She sighed, looking bored of me and the conversation.
“So? Do professors always use their slideshows to make tests?” I pointed out. “What if something said in class today ends up on a test? What if there’s an opportunity for extra credit?”
“I’ve got a one hundred in the class already.” Maxie scoffed. “Lord knows, you’re barking up the wrong tree. Do you even know what you’re talking about?”
I despised how she got under my skin. She was too flippant, talking back like it was nothing. I’d never seen anyone with such audacity.
“If I were your father, I’d punish you for talking like that,” I grumbled.
Maxie rolled her eyes. “Well, it’s such a shame you aren’t.”
“Brandy would never behave like this,” I insisted.
A wicked smile toyed at the corners of Maxie’s pouty lips. She pulled a spoon from one of the drawers, stirring her sugar and cream and watching the steam plume from her mug. Her mossy eyes didn’t look my way. If they had, I didn’t know if I could bear it.
“Really?” Maxie remarked with a mocking edge. “How much money you wanna bet?”
“What?”
As if on cue, Brandy shuffled into the kitchen from her bathroom wearing the plaid onesie pajamas and bunny slippers she’d received this past Christmas. She let out a big yawn, stretching her arms up into the air.
“Is there any coffee left?” she asked the room.
“Yeah,” Maxie answered. “I made six cups.”
“Thanks,” Brandy offered with a smile.
Maxie’s gaze caught mine again, and it was mocking me. She hid her matching smirk as she tasted her coffee. Still, I knew it was there. This girl took too much pleasure in taunting me.
“Oh, Dad,” Brandy said in realization. “Why are you here?”
“I thought the kitchen would be free to take measurements, but I guess your Buddhism class doesn’t matter to you anymore,” I huffed in reply. “Isn’t that the one you failed last semester, Brandy? What, are you trying to fail it twice?”
Brandy’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “How do you even know my schedule?”
“They post in the same place where I go to pay the bill each semester,” I reminded her, making a poor attempt to keep calm. “I can see your accounts, your schedule, and your transcript, Brandy, but you’ve never given me a reason to look at the other two until this year.”
My daughter scrunched up her button nose in annoyance, pulling the tangled blonde hair from her face as she explained, “There was just, uh, a meeting at the sorority house last night. I’m on the philanthropy committee, and we’ve been up late trying to get our fundraiser planned!”
“A meeting?” I repeated with raised eyebrows. “How sober was this meeting?”
“Oh, what’s a few glasses of wine among friends?” Brandy tried to laugh, shuffling over to get a mug from the cabinet.
“A few too many,” I answered in frustration. “I’m sick of this behavior from you. I don’t know what’s happening to you, but I’m putting an end to it. You’re grounded!”
About to head back to the dining room, Maxie stopped at the threshold, her eyes glancing over to Brandy who stood by the coffee maker. The two of them shared a small smirk. Maxie’s teasing was rubbing off on Brandy. I saw it unfolding before my eyes.
“No, I’m not.” Brandy laughed dismissively. “I’m twenty-one, Dad. You can’t just ground me anymore.”
“Well, you’re living under my roof!” I fumed, angered by their tittering.
“Yeah, that you offered to me,” Brandy scoffed, her laughter vanishing. “It’s not like I’m living in my childhood bedroom! Right, Maxie?”
Her friend had turned to tiptoe away, but she only got one foot out of the kitchen.
“Um,” she muttered. “I mean, I don’t know how you enforce that punishment.”
Where had all her moxie gone now? She was so eager to fight me a few minutes ago, but now Maxie Lawson was looking to avoid confrontation.
“Yeah!” Brandy agreed, stomping her foot.
“But this is your problem to sort out,” Maxie insisted. “I’ve got math homework to do.”
When was she doing homework?
Before I could ask, Brandy had focused her pint-sized frustration back onto me. Her angelic face twisted into a scowl as she crossed her arms.
“Dad,” Brandy huffed. “You can’t treat me like I’m in high school again. This is my space—well, mine and Maxie’s. We’re paying the utilities and Wi-Fi bill.”
“And you’re not paying any rent,” I pointed out, hoping that would give her a reason to stop frowning at me.
It only made her angrier.
“So?” She bristled, her voice pitching higher. “You offered to make it rent-free! Was that just some trick to hold it over my head?”
Realizing my mistake, I tried to say, “No, Angel, that’s not what I meant.”
Brandy wouldn’t hear it. Her voice pitched higher than a tiny terrier as she began to bark demands at me.
“You’re not going to treat me like a kid anymore!” Brandy declared angrily. “You aren’t just going to show up at my place without any notice, and you’re not going to hold this house over my head. If you do, then well . . .”
“Well, what?” I shot back, my voice louder than I intended.
“Maxie and I will move out!” Brandy yelled.
Abandoning her coffee mug on the counter, Brandy stormed out of the kitchen. She’d inherited so many things from her mother, but Brandy always had my quick temper. Her short fuse burned up. Brandy was done with this argument and with me. A few beats later, Her heavy wooden door slammed shut.
I stood alone in the kitchen, dumbfounded about what just happened.
