I skip stones until my arm feels like lead. Nothing changes in my mind, though. I’ve thought it through. I have to be near Ethan, day by day, not just now and then. As much as I love Nicky, I’ve got to leave this place because if I don’t, someday a few years down the road Ethan’s probably going to be calling someone else daddy, and I’ll end up with about as much respect for myself as I now have for HANK40.
I find Dr. Slokum in his office and tell him I’m leaving at the end of this semester.
“Oh, no, Jeff. You’re doing so well. I was talking with Dean Walters about you just last week. I can almost assure you of four years of full scholarship if you stay.”
“I can’t,” I say. I try to explain about Ethan, but I don’t think he gets it. “I’m sorry,” I tell him.
The next weeks are taken up with finishing term papers, studying for finals, and Nicky. We both pretend not to be counting the days, but it doesn’t take any Texas intuition to know that we are. The night before I’m to leave, as the Jetta sits packed and ready in the parking lot, Nicky and I lie together in the soft leather back seat of her father’s Cadillac, parked off a narrow dirt road under pine trees wet from a recent rainstorm. Nicky grabs hold of my ears, pulling my face to hers, kissing me fiercely, then pushing me away.
“Why did we love each other so much, so fast?” she says. “Why did you make me love you?”
“I didn’t make you love me. It was a gift,” I say.
“What do you mean?”
“The same force that gave us the Grand Canyon, and music, and shooting stars, and trees, and sent Ethan my way—that force gave us these months. Come to California with me. Let’s not throw away our gift.”
“I can’t,” she sighs. “You know how you’re afraid you won’t respect yourself if you’re not a good father to Ethan?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I’m afraid I won’t respect myself if I don’t follow through on my Brooker University dream.”
“You said you’d follow me to the ends of the earth,” I remind her.
She looks at me for a long time. “It’s a figure of speech,” she says.
“And you said you loved me,” I say.
“That’s a reality.”
So here I am, back in Hamilton Heights, living with my mom again, attending community college, and working at the Fitness Club. I found a used crib, which I cleaned up and put in my room. Ethan is with me Sunday through Tuesday, and with Christy Wednesday through Friday. We each have him every other Saturday. It’s working out. He knows me now, no doubt about that.
When I walk through the door at Christy’s house he squeals and moves his arms up and down. When I pick him up he nuzzles his head in the place between my neck and shoulder.
He goes to the Infant Center, which is part of Hamilton High’s Teen Parent Program, every school day, unless he’s sick. He’s sick a lot, mostly with little stuff, but the doctor says that’s common with preemies. When he can’t go to the Infant Center we have to scramble to find someone to take care of him. Sometimes Christy or I miss school on those days.
Sometimes Christy’s mom takes care of him, but she’s been kind of sick a lot herself. When my mom works from midnight to eight, it’s hard for her to come home and start taking care of Ethan right away. But her friend, Douglas, stayed with Ethan one day last week, when he had a fever and couldn’t go to Infant Care. And Uncle Steve stayed with him last Sunday when I had to work at the Fitness Club.
When I look at all the time and work and people it takes for this one baby, it reminds me of the persuasive speech Dashan gave during tournaments our junior year. It had to do with how it takes a whole village to raise a child. That saying is almost a cliché now. I even saw it on a coffee cup that Mrs. Bergstrom, the Infant Care teacher, was using. But the first time I heard the whole village thing was from Dashan. It made sense to me then, in theory, but now it’s a reality. Lots of people are part of raising Ethan, but I’m one of the biggest parts of all. I like that. It feels right to me.
Here’s my plan now. I’ll finish two years at Hamilton Heights City College, then transfer to a four-year state school, either L.A., or Cal Poly.
Since I’m now in school without a scholarship, and Ethan always needs stuff that costs money, I have to work a lot of hours just to make ends meet. Also, my telephone bill to Nicole is always very high. So it’s hard to go to school full-time. It’s probably going to take about six years to get my teaching credential. I hope I can hang.
H.H.C.C. doesn’t have a debate program. I miss that a lot—the excitement that comes with competitions, and the closeness that develops among debaters. Mr. Rogers called when he heard I was back in town and invited me to be a judge at the next tournament. That’ll be fun, but it won’t be the same as competing. Truthfully, college seems dull without debate. And another thing, H.H.C.C. is on a noisy, busy street. It’s always hard to find a place to park, and there’s no lake, or trees.
On days when there are warnings about the air being unhealthful I want to put Ethan in the car and head for Brooker Springs. But I know it wouldn’t work. Here are some of the people who love Ethan: Me, of course, and Christy. Mrs. Calderon and even Mr. Calderon and little tough-chick Maria. My mom, Steve, Douglas, Stacy and Dashan. I guess Dashan, ’cause he keeps sending Ethan Berkeley shirts and sweats. Anyway, that’s at least ten people, plus Bergie in Infant Care. In Texas there would only be me and Nicole.
I know Nicole would love him, but I’m not sure she’d want to take care of him when he’s sick. So I know it’s just a fantasy to think about running away with Ethan. Not to mention that Christy would have the FBI out after us if we even got close to a state border.
In spite of Christy not wanting to see Ethan after he was first born, I think she loves him a lot. He’s really changed her life, though. She dropped debate because it takes up too much time on weekends, and she needs to work to help support Ethan, too. She’s still working as an aide in the Hearing Impaired program.
I think she and Dashan are just friends now. That’s what he told me the last time I saw him. He and I are planning a reunion with the debate group this summer. It was Dashan’s idea. He’s missing the old crowd even more than I am.
It’s funny about Dashan. All through high school he was about the most popular, successful guy you could imagine—super nice, smart, but never conceited about any of it. But he’s having a hard time in college.
“It’s so big,” he says. “It’s like I’m nothing.”
“You should see the Grand Canyon,” I tell him.
“That’s different,” he says.
“Do you ever run into Trin up there?”
“Yeah. She’s practically the only one I talk to. I see her about once a week or so.”
I just sit there looking at his sad face. I can’t believe it. The most together guy I’ve ever known, and he’s worse off than I am. Things really change after high school.
I sort of want to ask Dashan about him and Christy. Are they friends, or more than friends? I think I’m curious mainly because of what Christy said to me that time, about me not knowing how to make love. Man, that nagged at me for a while. I think she was so mad that day she would have said anything she could think of to hurt me. Besides, I know Nicole was very happy with me in that department, and that’s what matters. But it’s not really my business what goes on between Dashan and Christy, so I don’t ask.
Here’s something strange, though. For a while, when Benny was home on leave after Basic Training, he and Christy were seeing each other. From Dashan to Benny is a big leap. I mean, Benny is a nice guy, except at times when he’s drinking, but I’m surprised Christy was interested in him. I don’t care who Christy’s with, but I do care who’s driving my son around.
When I first heard that Benny and Christy were seeing each other, I could imagine Benny taking Christy and Ethan to the beach, drinking beer all day, and then driving them home, drunk, on the freeway. So I stopped by his house one day, and I
just told him straight out, “Don’t be drinking and then drive around with Ethan in your car.”
“Hey, thanks, Dad,” Benny said, all sarcastic.
“I mean it, Benny.”
“Lighten up, will you? You worry too much.”
“I want you to tell me you won’t drive with Ethan in the car if you’ve been drinking.”
He just stood looking at me for a long time, hard like. Then he said, “Okay. Okay. My leave’s almost over anyway.”
We went into Benny’s garage and played pool for a while. We talked about army life, and H.H.C.C. I told him about how Jeremy managed to trick me into seeing the Grand Canyon and we had a good laugh over Jeremy and old times. When I left, Benny shook my hand and said, “Hey, man. I’m always sober when I see Christy and the baby. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt your kid.”
“Thanks, Ben,” I told him.
I know he was right. I worry too much. I used to think my mom was crazy for worrying about me but now I’m afraid I’m going to be the same way with Ethan.
After I saw Benny I got a call from Christy.
“Listen, Jeff, if you’ve got a gripe about the way I’m taking care of Ethan, you talk to me straight out, don’t go behind my back to Benny.”
“I don’t have a gripe. I just don’t want Ethan in the car with Benny if Benny’s been drinking.”
“God! How stupid do you think I am? I’m not going to put Ethan in a car with someone who’s been drinking. You come home from college to be the big dad and all of a sudden you know best? Who do you think took care of Ethan all those months you were away?”
“Okay, okay,” I said.
“I’m not the little ninth grader who fell for you, Mr. Jeff Browning. I don’t need you to tell me what to do. I’m not so stupid anymore.”
“I never said you were stupid. I know you’re not stupid.”
“Well, I was stupid. I’ve learned a lot about myself through all this. I guess I thought if I just happened to get pregnant, that would mean you and I should be together. And if we stayed together, with a baby, I’d get your family and I wouldn’t have to always be fighting with my dad. But it was stupid. I know now that I’m the only one who can make things better for me. I don’t need some guy to do it for me.”
“What about Benny?”
“We have fun together. He makes me laugh. But I’m not looking for him to take care of me. We don’t see each other much, anyway.”
“What about Dashan?”
“Dashan is one of my best friends in the whole world.”
“But . . .”
“But none of your business. What about your private life?”
“I’m working on it,” I said. We both laughed, and I felt the wall that had grown between us weaken.
I’m glad things are easier with me and Christy now. She’s right that getting pregnant was a really stupid thing to do. And I was stupid, too, for letting it happen. But it’s one of those things we can’t go back and change, so we’ve got to make the best of it.
Anyway, trying to be one of those giant tree kinds of dads has totally changed my life. On days when I have Ethan I get him up about 6:30 so I can feed him and dress him and take him to the Infant Center in time for me to get to my first class at H.H.C.C.
I pick him up at 3:00, take him back to my house, then put him in his stroller and walk with him to the park. I show him birds and flowers, bushes and blades of grass, and I hold him on my lap on one of the swings and glide slowly back and forth. He likes that.
I remember that my dad used to bring me to this park and push me on these same swings, and help me down the tall slide, before he left us. I whisper in Ethan’s ear, “I’ll never leave you.” I guess my whispers tickle, because he squeals and bounces on my lap. I watch some guys playing half-court basketball and wish, just for an instant, that I could join them.
I take Ethan home and give him dinner. He loves scrambled eggs and applesauce, so that’s what we both eat. For dessert we have graham crackers. Then I give him a bath, put him in clean pj’s, hold him while he takes his bottle, then lay him in his crib.
If I’m lucky, Ethan goes to sleep and I call Nicole, then work on school stuff. But sometimes he wants to stay up late and play, and if I don’t pay attention to him he cries. Or sometimes he cries anyway. I hate those times, when I’m alone with him and he cries and cries, and I don’t know what’s wrong.
I got so frustrated once, when I’d done everything, including taking him for a ride in the car, that I left him screaming in his crib. I walked outside and banged my hand, hard, against the side of the garage. It hurt bad for a week. I didn’t tell anyone about it, I felt so stupid. But the way I figure it, at least I didn’t hit Ethan. I’d never do that.
Always before I go to sleep at night I think of my time at B.U. I mean it when I tell Ethan I’ll never leave him the way my dad left me. I love him in the most pure way I’ve ever loved anyone, no strings. But as much as I love him, I can’t help wishing Ethan could have held off about five years before he came into my life, instead of coming so soon. My life would have been better, and so would his. I’d have been a more grown-up father, already teaching, not struggling to make ends meet by working at a gym. And he’d have had a more grown-up mom, too.
I wish his mom could have been Nicole instead of Christy. I know that stuff about accepting what I can’t change, but there are times I can’t help wishing.
Late at night, when everything is quiet except for an occasional distant siren, or helicopter overhead, my soul wanders back to Brooker University. I smell the pine trees, and feel Nicole’s soft warm body next to mine.
The lake, the old brick classrooms with wooden floors and hissing radiators, Mr. Slokum and the B.U. debaters, the student lounge, Kevin’s collection of baseball caps strewn around our room—these images come to me in waves, and I ache for what I’ve missed.
Speaking of Nicole, she’s coming to visit this summer, check out a few schools, and meet Ethan and my mom. I’ll take her to Hollywood, and to the Chinese Theatre where she can see the stars’ footprints imbedded in cement. I’m saving money so I can take her to Spago. Maybe we’ll go to a club where movie people hang out. She says she wants to see the glamour. I remind her of Grand Canyon.
In a way Nicole and Brooker University seem like part of a dream life, and now I’m in my real life, with Ethan, back in Hamilton Heights. But I can hardly wait to see Nicky this summer, in reality. I hope we still love each other. I think we will.
Just as I’m getting all into how Nicole and I will still love each other, and how great it will be to see her again, the phone rings.
“Jeff?”
It’s Christy.
“Ethan has a fever and the doctor wants to see him tomorrow. Can you take him?”
“Why can’t you? Tomorrow’s one of your days to have him.”
“Yeah, but I’m scheduled to help with a field trip for my aide class. Mrs. Myers is depending on me.”
“I’ve got a test tomorrow,” I say.
We talk back and forth and finally figure out that I can go in early for my test. Christy doesn’t have to be at the field trip bus until noon. She’ll skip her early classes, then I’ll pick him up and take him to the doctor. That’s how our lives go some days. By the time I pick him up, his fever is gone, but I decide to have him checked out anyway.
While I sit with Ethan on my lap in the doctor’s waiting room, watching kids who are older than he is playing around, I think of all he has to learn. He can sit by himself now. But he still has to learn to crawl, and walk, and talk, and throw a ball, and read. I can help him learn that stuff. And sex. He’s going to have to learn about sex someday. I hope he won’t start having sex too soon. I hold him on my lap, so he’s facing me.
“Don’t ever have sex with someone you don’t respect,” I tell him. “And don’t ever have sex without a condom, even if the girl says she’s on the pill.”
“Goo,” he says, grabbing my nose and hanging on.
“Hey!” I say, rescuing my nose from his grip. “Look at those fingers,” I say, showing him his crooked pinkies. We laugh. I like that we laugh together. I turn him around so he can see the kids playing with blocks on the floor. He leans back against me. I think about how it felt to lean back against the oak tree at Brooker University.
However else my life turns out, I want to be giant tree strong for Ethan.
Praise for the Hamilton High Series
“Reynolds’ treatment of youth and their challenges, from sexual abstinence to mixed-race parentage, is compassionate, never condescending; the dialogue, situations, emotions, and behavior of the well-defined teen characters ring true. [If You Loved Me is] an engaging, thought-provoking read . . .”
—Shelle Rosenfeld, Booklist
“Out of all the books I’ve read (and trust me, I’ve read tons of books), yours have impacted me the most. They are filled with reality and hope and strength, and make me feel stronger.” —Gillian, Georgia
“For all the sadness in [No More Sad Goodbyes], Autumn and her baby’s story is ultimately one of love and hope.” —Claire Rosser, Kliatt
“I have just finished reading Detour for Emmy. I wanted you to know that in all my years of school that book is the first book that I have honestly read from cover to cover. I can’t wait to read more of yours.”
—Amy, Montana
“Touching on the adolescent themes of teenage sex, adoption, and abortion - this [No More Sad Goodbyes] topical novel is poignant and inspiring.” —Lambda Rising
“I want to tell you that I find your books very interesting and reading them has helped me get through a lot in my life. Thank you.”
—Julie, La Puente High School
“Before I read If You Loved Me I had never bothered to check out a book at a library, but now I can’t stop reading. Thank you for changing the way I lived my life.” —Maria, Bell Gardens High School
“Your book [But What About Me?] touched me because it feels like I was the only one going through these things, but when I read your book I knew that I wasn’t alone.” —Kendra, Wisconsin
Too Soon for Jeff Page 20