Hello, this is the Firehouse, how may I help you?" Craig felt his anger flare hotly. He stared at the wall a moment, his eyes going out of focus before he slammed down the phone and paced wildly around the room. He was going to kill her. What the hell did she think she was doing? Why was she fucking with him? He thought about him and Mandie stumbling into her at the Firehouse Friday. It was an odd coincidence! He stopped pacing and realized he was literally panting he was so angry and out of breath. He stood and took several deep breaths. He sat down and tried to calm himself. He was having an anxiety attack, he knew the signs ... he had them before. God, if he only had a Xanax ... He went into the kitchen and poured a glass of milk and drank it slowly. Ok, he thought to himself, what if her calling here just now and hanging up was another coincidence, like she had just seen them and wanted to talk to Craig but chickened out when he answered ... He nodded to himself and his theory. Plausible ... He couldn't go off half cocked because she called here once and hung up on him. Charlotte wasn't necessarily "the stalker." The milk was helping, he felt a little more at ease. He could, at least, think clearer. He looked around the room slowly, seeing but not seeing anything, his mind was whirling. He would just have to wait it out ... Wait until the next time someone called and hung up. Then he would try that thing again and catch whoever it was. If it was Charlotte again, well then he and Charlotte would just have to have a little talk. And, if it was someone else then she is off the hook. He took a deep breath and was relieved to find he could fill his lungs with fresh air. He got up, finished off the milk and rinsed the glass. He went slowly into the bedroom where Mandie lay. She glanced at him as he entered and then did a double take, he was white as a sheet.

"Craig, what is wrong?" She asked, concerned. He lay down next to her and took her hand in his.

"Nothing, Mandie, we just had another hang up and I got immensely pissed about it." His hand was cold and clammy. She frowned.

"Something is wrong, you're clammy." He released her hand, wiped his on his blue jeaned leg and then held it again.

"Better?" He asked, faking a smile. She made a face.

"Why won't you tell me what is wrong with you?" She asked timidly. He tilted his head sideways and smiled again at her.

"There is nothing wrong, babe. I have been getting very angry lately about those calls and that one set me over the edge, I'm sorry I worried you. Whatcha watching?" He asked turning to the TV and trying to shift the subject ... She sighed heavily and dropped it. Obviously he didn't want to say ...

Tuesday morning Mandie was up early, dressed, and headed out for work. Craig got up early with her and made her a big breakfast. She was grateful, thanked him, kissed him deeply and went to work. He sat there alone for the first time in more than a week -- he felt empty. After some time he got up and cleaned the kitchen. When he was finished he took a shower and called Drew to find out what was going on with Forest Fire and the shows they were doing in the next few weeks. Drew told him he missed a practice Saturday. Craig winced. He had forgotten all about it. He explained to Drew what was going on with Mandie and Drew just sighed heavily.

"Craig, man, it won't be long and you'll have to worry about that shit from New York, you catch my meaning?" Craig rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, Drew, caught it, digested it, and filed it away under 'Drew's good advice.'" Drew didn't appreciate the humor.

"I'm just trying to help ya." He said. The call ended after Craig made several notations on the electronic calendar Mandie had bought him for his birthday earlier this year. He got up and started to tidy up the apartment when the phone rang. Craig picked it up quickly thinking it might be Mandie and heard only silence. He smiled and when the caller hung up, he waited about 10 very long minutes and tried the automatic callback feature on the phone. He felt butterflies flittering around his belly while the phone on the other end rang. He looked at the clock, it was a little after 10, too early for the Firehouse to be open but again, he heard a female voice say "hello?" This time it was unmistakably Charlotte. He slammed down the phone, grabbed his denim jacket off the back of the dining room chair and flew out the door. This time there was no panic, only rage.

In the twenty minutes it took him to get to Charlotte's apartment, all kinds of savage thoughts streamed through Craig's head. He would have enjoyed no less than punching her in her pretty face and watching her nose bleed or twisting her arm so hard behind her back he heard the joint pop. He had dealt with these calls for a month now and it had driven him to the point of maddening brutality. He pulled up in front of her building, jerked the car into park, got out and sprinted around the corner to her door. He pounded on it. All his anger, all his violent thoughts flew right out the window when Charlotte opened the door and was holding a baby in her arms. The expression on his face dropped from hate to surprise. Her green eyes flashed when she saw him standing there. She held the door open for him.

"I thought that was you." She said and stepped aside so he could come in. "Please come in." She said softly. He noticed, as he stepped past her into the apartment they had shared for nearly a year, that he was panting again, he tried to take a deep breath and couldn't. He looked around, he noticed she had changed things a bit, painted the walls and replaced some pictures. The furniture was the same though ... "Before you go off on me, please let me explain." She cradled the baby in her arms and looked to him, pleading. He thrust his hands on both hips and just stared at her.

"This had better be fucking good, Charlotte." He spat. She walked around slowly.

"I have been trying to get ahold of you since the baby was born." She said. She stopped at looked up at him. He looked so big, so intimidating. So handsome. He made her heart pound. "Since ..." she took a deep breath. "since our baby was born." The words hit him like a bolt of lightening. He thought he even felt his hair stand on end. All his nerves tingled and he felt himself flushing. It was a little more than six months since Craig had been with Mandie, he was doing the math in his head. This couldn't be his baby, could it? He ran a hand through his hair nervously. He went over to the sliding glass door and looked out. He saw the pool not to far away, the pool where he and Charlotte swam together, sunned, they had even made love in there once. He closed his eyes at the memory and blew air out of his mouth. He still couldn't get a deep breath and it was bothering him. "Craig?" He head Charlotte say behind him. He couldn't bear to turn around. This couldn't be his baby! She was bluffing. She needed money or something ... but surely she knew he didn't have two cents to rub together! The baby made a noise and he turned around slowly. She tried to smile at him and found she couldn't. She was scared to death. "I named him Charles, after your father." She said quietly. He felt a lump in his throat and tried to choke it down, it remained. She flashed her eyes at him again. "Would you say something, please?"

"This is not my baby." He said finally. She approached him carefully, holding the baby out to him.

"Look at him, Craig. He is yours. After we broke up I found out I was pregnant. The baby is a month old." Craig stared at the wall behind her. "Look at him!" She said angrily. He looked down at the bundle in her arms. What was to see? All babies looked alike to him, he never saw what mothers saw ... they were just a pile of flesh, no features. He didn't see what Charlotte thought was a resemblance.

"It's a baby. It doesn't look like me, it isn't mine." He denied flatly. She turned away and tears streamed down her cheeks. She wouldn't let him see her cry. "I have to go, do me a favor and take my phone number off your speed dial because if you continue to call my house and harass me I will have you up on charges so fast your head will spin. Who would take care of little 'Charles' while you are in jail, huh?" He went to the door. He had to get out of there before she tried to convince him of his responsibility to this infant. She turned quickly.

"Craig, please ..." She pleaded. "you have to help me. I can't do this all alone." He watched her, red hair lying softly around her shoulders, her green eyes looked greener since she had been crying. She looked pitiful. He had loved her once ... now, seeing her standing there, tired, weepy, with a baby in her arms, he didn't feel love, he felt fright. He had his hand on the door knob. He sighed, his shoulders slumped. He didn't love her, that was for sure, but right at that moment he felt sorry for her. He went slowly over to her and took the tiny, boneless, bundle from her and held it. She felt her legs give way and sat down hard on the floor and cried. He sat down next to her, put the baby in his lap and put an arm around her shoulder. She turned to him and pressed herself against him and sobbed. It was all too much to bear, for either of them. He held her while she cried. He looked down at the baby in his lap. Mandie is giving him one of these, only that one would truly be his. This one, he was sure it was not but he could be compassionate and he wanted to help her if he could without compromising his relationship, marriage, and his own child. After some time her sobs diminished and she pulled away from him. His shirt was soaked. She got up to find a box of tissues, wiped her face and blew her nose. She came back and sat down Indian-style next to him. She looked at him. She wanted to kiss him, to have him kiss her. She wanted him in her bed, engulfing her, making love to her. She just wanted him. Seeing him the other day with that other woman had torn her heart to shreds. But Charlotte was tough. At least, she thought she was ... until he was there, in her apartment, formerly their apartment, holding his baby on his lap. And he was looking at her. She had difficulty reading his expression for he was guarded. He didn't believe her that the baby was his, she knew it. She knew it would be that way. She would give him some time to absorb it, to take it in, to process. She had waited seven months to tell him. She started to over a month ago and chickened out. Then it became torture, to call him and have his new love answer the phone. Then she became angry and started calling to be annoying. And then, she called to really tell him -- and couldn't. She was glad it had come to this. Now he knew. What he would do with it, she couldn't be sure. But, he knew. And she knew that Craig would do the right thing, he always did. As much of a fuck-up he could be, he had a conscience and he was always honest and fair. After a while he handed the baby back to Charlotte and stood up. He helped her to her feet.

"I have to go now." He said, eyeing the clock. It was almost one. Mandie would have called the apartment several times by now looking for him, wondering what he was doing. What would he tell her? She took the baby to a small cradle beside the couch and lay him in it. She came back and stood dangerously close to Craig. So close he could feel the heat of her body.

"I wish you could stay longer. I've been so lonely." She said.

"Where is your mom? Why isn't she here?" He asked taking a step backwards. If she noticed, she didn't make recognition.

"She has been very busy. My brother is sick." Charlotte's brother had cerebral palsy. He rubbed his nose and nodded.

"Sorry to hear that." The silence that hung between them was uncomfortable to say the least.

"Charlotte, listen, you have to stop calling my house. I can't take any more of the hang-ups. Mandie hasn't been well. We are getting married. You and I ... will never be again." He felt stupid quoting the words to one of his brother's songs but it seemed to fit right then and there. She looked away sadly.

"But what about Charles?" She asked, not able to look at him.

"That is something you are going to have to deal with. I'm going to be married and have my own family in the not-to-far distant future. And, I don't mean to upset you, but I can't be sure that baby is mine." He was hesitant to say it but it needed to come out. She turned quickly to him.

"He is yours." She said, matter-of-fact. He blew air out of his mouth, the hands went again to the hips, a very defensive stance.

"Please don't try to meddle in my life, Charlotte. Don't forget, when we broke up you were the one who left. You were the one who didn't need me. The end of our relationship was because of YOU." She couldn't forget that, she regretted it every day. He turned to go. She stopped him by grabbing his shoulder. When he turned around she slid her arms around him and kissed him. He stood there a moment, surprised, and then pushed her away. "It will not be." He said, opened the door and left. She stood in the hallway and watched him round the corner and he was gone. She went back inside the apartment. Charles began to cry, Charlotte sat back down on the floor, the flood gates opened and she sobbed.

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