Next Day Gone

by J C Wing

  “No,” Willow said when another wave of nausea hit her. “I really don’t feel well, E. I think you need to call my dad.”

  The waiting room of St. John’s ER was starting to feel a little too familiar. Edie pushed coins into a vending machine and punched the buttons. The machine came to life, grumbling about Edie’s request, then it unceremoniously dropped a bottle of apple juice into the well at the bottom. Edie pushed her hand through and grabbed it while coins were spit from the change cup. She looked down and watched as one dime made several rotations, then fell with a quiet clink onto the highly polished tile floor.

  As soon as Alex had shown up to the gym, he decided Willow looked pale and ushered both kids into his car. During the drive he’d asked her questions: When was the last time you ate? Are you dehydrated? Did you hurt yourself when you fell? Have you been feeling sick? Willow dutifully answered, then she and Edie followed Alex back into the ER just like they had the night of Dane Cooper’s party.

  Edie unscrewed the cap and took a long drink from the bottle. She was sweaty and felt gross standing there in the hospital. She pushed her bangs off her forehead, then put her arm down again quickly. Damn, she needed a shower.

  A couple of hours passed before Willow pushed through the double doors. Edie happily disengaged herself from the children’s show that was playing on the TV and stood up to meet her. She stretched her lower back as she walked.

  “You just chillin’ in there while I stunk up the waiting room?” She smiled at her friend, but Willow looked up at her, tears filling her wide, scared eyes. “Will? What’s wrong? Where’s your dad?”

  Willow reached up and wrapped her fingers around Edie’s arm. “It’s bad, E.”

  Edie studied Willow’s face. “What is? What’s wrong?”

  When Willow spoke again, her voice trembled. “I’m pregnant.”

  FAIRYTALE

  Willow sat on her bed while her parents talked about her outside her closed door. She thought the conversation had started in their bedroom, but they were moving around now, walking through the halls, their voices raising and lowering as they ruminated on Willow’s state and how it had come to this.

  Pregnant. She hadn’t been able to wrap her head around the concept yet.

  Being sick in the Larsen household had always been different. Having a dad who was a cardiologist changed the rules a little. He’d seen mundane symptoms turn into big deal illnesses. Corinne accused him of being a borderline hypochondriac, and seemingly, the label never bothered him. Willow was a healthy sixteen-year-old girl. Most parents would have chalked her passing out to skipping lunch or not drinking enough water, but when Dr. Alexander Larsen ordered blood tests, no one argued with him.

  They’d been looking for a white blood cell count. If it was high, that could explain an infection. A low count might mean an autoimmune disease. They’d been looking for anemia, or a possible problem with Willow’s heart. If the technician thought Alex was overreacting, he was wise to keep his mouth shut.

  Pregnancy hadn’t been on the list of things Alex thought they might find.

  “How did this happen?” Alex asked.

  “You’re the doctor,” Corinne snapped back. “I thought the birds and the bees was one of the first things they would have taught you in medical school.”

  Willow hugged a pillow to her chest. Her mom was being mean and sarcastic, and her dad, usually the peacekeeper, was catching her barbs and throwing them back without hesitation.

  There was talk about who she was hanging out with at school. Alex thought they knew her friends and their parents. She wasn’t being supervised enough. The job had been a bad idea. Corinne argued that she couldn’t watch her every minute of every day. Alex argued that he thought she’d been such a good kid that such supervision hadn’t been necessary.

  Willow fell back against the mattress and let the tears come. She felt like she was drowning. She and Jason had been careful. They hadn’t forgotten birth control, not even once. She knew how this worked. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

  She hugged the pillow even tighter. Her parents were still arguing, their voices rising and falling outside her closed bedroom door. She wasn’t the only one that was crying.

  How was she going to tell Jason?

  Willow’s fingers found the locket she wore around her neck. She didn’t know how Jason was going to react. If he didn’t want anyone to know about their relationship before, she wasn’t sure he would be willing to uncover it now. Dating was one thing. Waiting to become a parent was entirely different.

  She didn’t know what plan her parents would eventually devise once they stopped yelling at one another. How was she going to take care of a baby when her own life seemed so wildly out of control?

  Willow knew she couldn’t tell Jason over the phone. She pulled herself from the mattress and peeled her stinky clothes off as she made her way to the bathroom. She stood beneath the hot spray, letting the water soak her hair and run over her face. She ran soapy hands over her flat stomach and thought about what the doctor had told her.

  She was eight, maybe nine weeks along. Her birthday. The surprise party. Little Blue. Jason’s house. A baby.

  Willow scrubbed her hair with shampoo that smelled like vanilla and cherries. She’d never really noticed the scent before, but now it was making her sick to her stomach. She rinsed the long strands and finished her shower, her stomach queasy and her mind uneasy.

  When she went downstairs, she found her dad in his favorite chair. He looked up at her like he normally did when she entered the room, but Willow missed the smile he always greeted her with. She wanted to tell him she was sorry, but the word seemed insignificant.

  “Daddy, I—”

  He lifted his hand and gave her a shake of his head. “It’s been a difficult day,” he told her, his eyes studying her face. She couldn’t help but notice the sadness that was etched into his handsome face. It broke her, the realization that she’d been the one to put it there.

  She felt her eyes fill with tears, and his image blurred before her as she stood there. When he stood up and pulled her against him, she began to cry in earnest. He wrapped her in his arms, and she pressed her face against his chest, grateful for his closeness.

  “I love you, Willow,” he told her, dropping a kiss on the top of her head. Although she knew it to be true, the words came as a surprise. “We’ll figure out the rest.”

  Willow nodded but didn’t say a word for a long while. When Alex pulled away, she looked up at him and he gave her a closed-mouth smile.

  “I need to get out, think about things.” She sniffed and he wiped her tears with the backs of his fingers.

  “I reckon you do,” he agreed. “You okay to drive?”

  “I am.”

  He took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “Okay. Be safe. Remember your phone and your curfew.”

  Willow was afraid if she stayed another minute longer, he wouldn’t let her go. She gave him a nod, then left the house.

  “Hey.”

  Willow sat in the parking lot of the visitor’s center at Crabtree Falls. She’d bought several tacos when she’d driven through town. She felt hungry, but the smell of beef and cheese made her want to throw up.

  “Hi,” Jason replied. “How did work go?”

  “It was a busy day,” she answered honestly. “You’re almost done, right?”

  “I am. You got plans?”

  “I’m in the lot,” she told him. “Wanna meet me on the trail? I brought tacos.”

  She heard him chuckle. “I won’t say no to tacos.”

  Willow pushed the bag into her pack and climbed out of the car. Her feet were sure on the path, and the sun was low on the horizon. She carried a flashlight in the kangaroo pocket of her hoodie as she made her way down the rocky steps.

  Twenty minutes later, she watched as Jason walked toward the bridge.

  “You’re a sight for sore eyes,” he smiled.

  Officially, the park had been clos
ed for almost half an hour, but no one seemed in a hurry to leave.

  “Yeah?” She smiled back.

  “Yeah.”

  She wasn’t sure how she was going to tell him. She studied the way his eyes lit up with his smile.

  “I need to talk to you about something. It’s important.”

  Jason caught the seriousness in her tone and his smile faltered. “Okay.”

  “I’m scared.”

  Jason blinked, then squinted at her. “Scared of what?”

  “Not here,” she told him.

  He nodded, his eyes lingering on her face. “Everyone should have bugged out of the office by now.”

  He turned and Willow followed him.

  By the time they reached the lot, there were only half a dozen cars parked there. The beam from Willow’s flashlight bounced around, catching the chrome and glass of the sleeping vehicles. Jason unlocked the door and looked around before ushering Willow in before him.

  It was much warmer inside and Willow guided the flashlight downward. Once they were in the windowless back room, Jason shut the door and clicked on the desk light.

  “Why are you scared?” he asked her immediately.

  “I passed out today,” she replied. He opened his mouth to speak but Willow pressed on. “It’s Saturday, so Edie came to the gym and we went to our aerobics class.”

  “Okay …”

  “I got really hot, and kinda sick to my stomach. It happened really fast, and before I knew it, I’d blacked out.”

  “Willow …” Jason took her head into his hands and studied her face. He squeezed her shoulders, then her waist, looking her over for injuries. “Are you alright?”

  “I didn’t get hurt, but when Dad got to the gym, he insisted on taking me to the ER”

  “We should get you a punch card to that place.”

  He smiled at her, but Willow didn’t return it. “Jason, I passed out because I’m pregnant.”

  Jason stared at her as if he hadn’t heard what she said. He didn’t blink. He didn’t move, his hands still bracketing her waist.

  “You’re … pregnant?” His voice was quiet, disbelieving.

  Willow nodded. “Eight or nine weeks. It had to have happened on my birthday.”

  “Damn,” he whispered, his gaze and his hands falling.

  Willow watched him as he paced slowly around the small space. She couldn’t read him, and she felt her anxiety grow.

  “Jay?”

  “I …” he turned again, this time finding her eyes. “I’m sorry …”

  Willow felt the few bites of taco she’d been able to eat ready to come back up again. “You’re sorry?” She was sure this is where he would tell her he couldn’t see her ever again. “What do you mean you’re—”

  “I didn’t tell you because I thought we’d be okay.”

  Willow narrowed her eyes. “Didn’t tell me what?”

  “That night. It broke. The condom broke.”

  “Oh,” she said quietly, holding his gaze. They stared at one another for what felt like a very long time. “What do we do now?”

  Jason moved toward her again, his fingers around her arms and his mouth over hers. Willow parted her lips, grateful for the kiss. When he pulled away, she felt dizzy.

  “Do you want it?”

  Willow swallowed, her hands subconsciously moving to her belly. It was a fundamental question, but she hadn’t thought to ask it of herself. She blurted the first thing that came to her mind. “Yes.”

  Jason stepped back, watching her face. “I’m not sure if I can do this.” He took another step back and bumped into the desk. He planted his butt on the top, seemingly unable to stand on his own. “I’m not sure what I want to do with my life. I’m so young, we’re so young … a baby …” He reached up and ran his fingers through his hair. The strands stuck up at all angles and shadows cast by the desk lamp distorted the features of his face. “Did you know the day I met you I’d put a stamp on my application for the Naval Academy? I had it with me in the glove box of my car. I was late to the party and didn’t drop it at the post office. I figured I could do it the next day. But I didn’t.”

  Willow blinked but otherwise didn’t move. His voice had grown sharper. Something in it warned her to pay attention.

  “It was a mistake, you and me. From the very beginning. Fifteen …” he shook his head. “You were fifteen, but you seemed so much older than that. Being with you made me feel …” he paused, looking for the right word. “Calm.” He nodded. “So much chaos goin’ on in my head. Counselor told me I needed to go someplace that would center me, do something that made me feel like I had a purpose. I was set, I was ready to go if they accepted me. I had all my shit lined up. Recommendation letters, GPA, all my paperwork filled out and signed. I was hell bent on getting the fuck out of here, away from my mom and all her fucked up relationship shit, away from this stuck-up town and everyone who thinks they’re better than a poor bastard like me. And then you soaked me when you got tossed in that damn pool, and everything came to a screeching halt.”

  He collapsed a bit inward, like a balloon that had suddenly been pricked with a pin. Willow wanted to go to him, but she stayed where she was. She could reach out and touch him, but she didn’t move.

  “I knew you were too young. I knew it when I left that damn party. I was buying a whole shit ton of trouble, your family just as stuck up as the rest of them. Even if you were older, they’d never let me near you. Your daddy, all high and mighty, and your mom …” He scoffed and shook his head. “You’re not like them. I thought maybe you’d be worth all the secrets, all the lies … and you are. I hated it, hate it now, but I’ve never felt for anyone the way I feel for you. You made me think for once in my life I might have something special, something important. That I might be worthy of that.”

  “You are.”

  Willow’s words stopped Jason’s tirade. No one had ever told him that before. Maybe no one had ever believed it. No one but Willow. She did believe it. He knew she did. He just wasn’t quite there himself yet.

  “I’ll fuck it up, Will.”

  He looked like he was in agony, and this time, Willow didn’t stop herself from reaching up and pressing her palm and fingers against his chest. She could feel his heartbeat. It felt like he’d just run a race and his pulse hadn’t had a chance to settle.

  “Even if your parents let me anywhere near you, I’ll fuck it up.” He was unable to sit still. “Do they know?” he asked. “About me?”

  Willow shook her head. “No.”

  He reached up, put his hand over hers. He looked close to tears, and it broke Willow’s heart.

  “Don’t tell them,” he said. “I’ll do my best, Will.” He sighed. “I’ll try.”

  Willow felt a catch in her throat. As she watched Jason, two things became very clear to her. The first was that she loved this boy with her whole entire heart. She hoped she was wrong about the second, but she was almost certain that she wasn’t. No matter how much she loved him, or how much he claimed to love her, she knew that Jason was going to bail.

  STORYTELLING

  Willow knocked on the door of the tidy three-bedroom house on King Street. She felt a burst of late autumn wind push its way onto the porch, and a battalion of dried leaves rushed across the freshly painted slats beneath Willow’s feet.

  When the door opened, it was Martin Heath’s face Willow saw on the other side of the screen. Martin was a quiet man. A plumber by trade, he was far less groomed than Alex, and regularly wore coveralls and a baseball hat to hide his thinning hair. He was wiry and of medium height. Edie hadn’t gotten her flaming locks from her dad, but her brown eyes were all his.

  “Hidey there, Willow.”

  Edie always called Willow’s parents Mister and Missus. Martin had never allowed that.

  “Hi, Marty,” Willow replied.

  “I hear you had a spot of trouble yesterday. You feeling better?”

  Willow bit her lip. “Yes, sir. Thanks for asking
.”

  “Edith’s upstairs,” he told her, knowing full well Willow hadn’t stopped by to chat with the likes of him. “Go on up if you want. Let me know when y’all are ready for some supper. I’ve got chili simmering on the stove.”

  He backed up and Willow stepped out of the cold.

  Edie had always lived in this house. Martin and his wife, Bess, bought the place a few years before Edie came along. Martin had taken his bride to the hospital to have their first child and had come home with just a baby girl in tow. Bess had suffered a postpartum hemorrhage and they’d lost her just hours after Edie had been born. There were photos of the fair-skinned, red haired Bess decorating the mantle, the overstocked bookshelves and hanging in the stairway. Except for their eye color, Bess and her daughter looked nearly identical.

  Willow’s eyes moved along the framed photos as she climbed the stairs. Bess looked like she might have been a forgiving woman. She hoped that was something else she’d shared with her daughter.

  “Edie?” she called as she tapped on the door. “Can we talk?”

  The door flew open and Edie stood on the other side, her hair piled up on the top of her head in a haphazard bun. She wore her Hawks sweatshirt and a pair of black yoga pants. Her feet were bare, her toenails painted a bright vivid purple.

  “What in the world took you so long?” She grabbed Willow’s sleeve and pulled her into the bedroom. “Are you okay?”

  The honest concern she saw in Edie’s eyes broke any wall Willow had built up. Instantly, she began to cry, and Edie gathered her up into her arms.

  “Oh, Edie … I’ve made such a mess of things.”

  Edie moved them toward the bed, then lowered them both onto the mattress, her arms still wrapped tightly around her friend. A few minutes later, Willow lifted her head and wiped her face with her sleeve.

  “Hang on,” Edie told her, jumping up and grabbing an extra roll of toilet paper from her bathroom. “I’m gonna go get a couple of sodas, okay? Stay there. I’ll be right back.”