by Seven Steps
Julius stood beside me, the tower of strength and safety I so desperately needed.
He gave my hand a reassuring squeeze before he spoke up.
“Mom, Dad, this is Megera Kotopuli, the girl I was telling you about. Meg, this is Millie and Adam Samson.”
I smiled, even though I was terrified. I could feel the hate coming off his parents in waves. My stomach twisted, and I felt blood rush to my face.
Millie Samson stepped forward. Her arms were lashed across her chest like she was barely keeping herself together. She was slim for a woman who’d had nine children, with a long, oval face that looked like it could’ve been friendly if she wasn’t glaring holes through me. Her chocolate brown hair was wavy and cut in a style I could only describe as momish.
She tried to smile, but it came off as an insane grin that made me want to sprint for the door. I would have if Julius hadn’t held my hand in a vice-like grip.
“Hello, Meg.” Her voice was tight with firmly leashed anger. She unwound her arms from her chest and produced a clear vial from the realms of her armpit. “It’s very nice to meet you. Now, if you would just pee in this cup, we can—”
Julius’ voice was quick and sharp. “Mom.”
His mother’s face dropped, and I could see that she was about to burst into tears at any second. Just seeing her expression made me want to throw myself at her feet and wail. I was doing this to her. I wanted to crawl into a hole and stay there forever like the snake that I was.
“Julius, I just have to be sure. With all the accusations being thrown around, it’s hard to tell when a girl is lying or not. If she would just take a pregnancy test, it would clear up a lot of—”
“Mom, stop. I believe her.”
I could puke. I could just puke.
Millie was right, of course. Julius had accepted my word alone. He hadn’t even asked for a pregnancy test. He was a sweet guy, but if this was how he approached life, it was going to eat him up and crap him out.
His father, Adam, stepped forward and placed one arm on his wife’s back. He was the spitting image of his son, tall with a thick body. They even had the same haircut, though Adam’s was more blond than brown.
“Why don’t we all sit down for dinner,” he said.
One glance told me Adam’s dominant emotion: disappointment. He was disappointed in me, disappointed that I had morphed his son’s dreams from being a NFL superstar to being a bricklayer, or worse. Every parent wants their kids to be better than them. Now, Adam wouldn’t have that chance with Julius.
For a house with eleven people, it was surprisingly small. I could have probably fit four of them into my own home. A single wood-paneled hallway ran from the front door to the kitchen. I passed a set of stairs on my right, and two doors on my left. One of the doors led to a modest living room I could tell was well used. Bean bags were scattered everywhere, as well as toys, notebooks, musical instruments, and one giant stuffed panda. A large television hung above an unlit fireplace.
The house smelled like fried chicken. I didn’t know if that was the dinner smell or the all-the-time smell, but it made my mouth water.
Julius’ grip on my hand remained firm and strong.
“How you holding up?” he whispered.
I put on a brave face that didn’t even remotely match what I was feeling.
“I’m okay.”
“They’re upset right now, but they’ll come around soon. Don’t worry. Plus, my mom’s an excellent cook.”
I followed Millie, Adam, and Julius through the other door on the left. The dining room housed a huge table set for twelve with five seats on each of the long sides and one seat at each end. I presumed that was where the parents sat.
There were also eight small faces staring at me—no, not staring…glaring.
The famous Samson octuplets were eight years old. Though their hair ran the gamut from chocolate brown to blond, but they all had the same clear blue eyes as Julius and Adam.
They didn’t say a word…not one single word. The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. I’d never known how unnerving it was to be stared at by eight children. I was frightening, like a real life version of Children of the Corn.
Julius swept his hand in their direction.
“These are my brothers and sisters.” He started from the right side of the table closest to us and moved around in order. “This is Athena, or as we call her, the pigtail queen, because of the pigtails—obviously. That’s Erica. She’s super smart. I let her do my math homework sometimes. This little lady is Christina. Watch your phone around her—she tends to hack. And that’s Mya, the resident pop star. Next to her is Marcus, the best dancer I’ve ever seen—really. You should see him backflip. It’s amazing. On the other side of the table is Louie, or as we call him around here, the messy one. That’s Xander. You may know him as the Flash, but don’t tell anybody his secret identity. He’s the one with the broken arm I was telling you about. And finally Jason, the next greatest NFL quarterback, after me.”
The kids didn’t wave. They didn’t even smile. They just looked at me for several uncomfortable beats until, finally, Mya spoke up. She was dressed in a sequin top and jeans and her hair was pulled up into a fancy bun. Definitely a pop star.
“Are you the girl who ruined Herc’s future?”
Awkward.
I shuffled my feet, desperately wanting to turn tail and run from this house, never to return, but I didn’t. Yes, I wasn’t what I proclaimed to be, and I was a terrible person, but I refused to be bested by an eight-year-old in sequins.
“That would be me,” I replied, trying to stand a little taller. “It’s very nice to meet you.”
“Mama says Herc will have to quit school because of you.” This came from Christina. Her little face was scrunched up so tight I was surprised her lips didn’t pop off. “She said you’re a Jezabel.”
Thankfully, Adam chose this time to speak up.
“Chris, please. If Meg is going to be part of our family, we’re going to have to treat her kindly. Now everybody have a seat. Dinner’s coming soon.”
His face told a different story, however—one that was not so kind.
The sound of chairs grating against hardwood floors echoed through the dining room. Adam sat at the end of the table, and I was on his immediate left, with Julius next to me. The empty chair across from me would, presumably, belong to Millie.
“What’s a Jezebel?” Louie asked from the end of the table. Dinner hadn’t been served yet, but he had ripped up a napkin and scattered pieces around his plate already. I could see why they called him the messy one. I’d been there five minutes and he was already a mess.
Christina answered his question while managing to simultaneously glare at me.
“It’s means an ugly girl who should go dig herself a hole and drop dead in it.”
“Guys,” Adam said, standing up from his seat at the end of the table. “Show our guest some respect.”
It was humiliating, a hundred times worse than when Grunski attacked me in school. Those were sixteen-year-olds who at least knew how pregnancy worked. These eight-year-olds only knew that I was the enemy.
Was all of this worth it just to stay in school and continue a family tradition that would probably die with me anyway? My parents weren’t having any more kids, not with mama’s cancer. What was I doing? Why was I submitting myself to this? Why was I subjecting Julius and his family to this?
I sat silently while dinner was placed on the table in simple but pretty white dishware. The pattern matched the one on my plate.
Baskets of fried chicken, bowls of mashed potatoes, corn on the cob, and baked apples flowed from the kitchen like a tidal wave until most of the table was filled. The empty sections were filled with big jugs of iced tea. I’d never seen so much food on one table before.
Once Millie finished serving and sat down, Adam placed his hands together.
“Let’s say grace.”
All hands smacked together in im
itation of their father. I followed suit, though I wasn’t a particularly religious person. I believed in God, but I’d never prayed before or gone to church. I just hadn’t been raised that way.
I closed my eyes, not knowing what to expect, yet oddly curious.
“Dear Lord, we ask that you have your Spirit upon us as we go through this time of crisis. Please help our family do what we do best: stick together, work together, and love each other—even our newest members. Please help us to put our differences aside as we welcome Megera into our family, and help us to keep open minds and open hearts. Please bless this food, oh Lord, and the hands that prepared it. Amen.”
“Amen.”
I kept my eyes closed a moment longer than I knew I should have.
I had to keep my face composed before I burst into tears.
I wanted to shout that this was all a lie, that I wasn’t pregnant, that this was just some stupid scheme!
But I didn’t say anything.
I sat there.
Like a coward.
Like a fox among hens, waiting to tear everything apart.
“You all right?” Julius asked from beside me. He poured me some iced tea, and I took a long drink. It was the only thing that kept away the tears that clawed up my burning throat.
I have to say something.
But I can’t say anything.
But I have to say something.
But I can’t say—
“So, Meg, tell us about your family. Do you have any brothers or sisters?” The question came from Millie. Her face was tight, her eyes sharp, as if she were waiting for me to slip so she could stab me with one of the yellow corn cob holders.
I swallowed and picked at my chicken.
“No. It’s just my parents and me.”
“Who are your parents? Do I know them?”
Julius stiffened next to me. “Mom, this isn’t an inquisition.”
Millie looked offended. “I’m just asking her about her family. Don’t I have a right to know about her family?”
“Well you can ask her in a nicer way—”
“You will not speak to your mother like that,” Adam half-growled. “If she wants to ask the girl a question, let her ask her a question. We have a right to know the girl, same as you.”
“It’s okay, Julius,” I said. I gave him a reassuring smile that didn’t reassure me at all, but he looked a little bit more at ease. “My father is Marco Kotopuli. My mother’s name is Maria.”
The noise down at the end of the table got a little louder. Something flew past me and landed on the floor.
Was that a piece of chicken?
Christina sneered at me, and it took all I had not to sneer back. The boys had lost interest in my drama at that point and were playing who can push each other the hardest.
“You mean Marco Kotopuli, the owner of Zeus Construction?” Adam’s eyebrows rose, and when I nodded, his gaze turned to Julius. “You sure know how to pick ’em. Ain’t that great? Ain’t it just great?”
“Dad, please.”
I shoved a small piece of chicken in my mouth and chewed it. If I hadn’t been so nervous and agitated by this whole thing, it probably would have tasted better, but right then, it tasted like sand in my mouth.
I choked it down before asking, “Do you know my father?”
“You mean the man who bribed my foreman so we lost job after job after job? The man who nearly put me in the permanent unemployment line? The man who took food from my children’s mouths?” He bit off a piece of chicken and tossed the rest onto his plate. “Yeah, I know him.”
I raised my chin.
“I’m not my father,” I said.
He tilted his head.
“Aren’t you?”
Julius threw down his napkin. “We’re done.” He rose, but when Adam pinned him with a look, he froze in place.
“You’re not going anywhere, young man.”
“I’m not going to sit here and let you badger her. We both made a mistake, both of us, and just because she has to wear it and I don’t doesn’t mean I’m any less to blame.”
“We told you our thoughts before you brought her here,” Millie said.
“Well, I guess I was naïve enough to believe we could all get along.”
“What do you want us to say, Julius?” Adam asked. “Thanks for stealing our son’s future away from him?”
“No. I want you to say that we have your support.”
“You do, but that doesn’t mean we have to like it,” Millie said. “We had big dreams for you, Jules, and not just us—you had big dreams for yourself. Then this comes along…” A single tear dripped down her cheek. Then another, and another. “Now those dreams are gone, vanished, and you bring her here expecting us to welcome her with open arms? No way! Not until I see a pregnancy test and a paternity test, from my own doctor, not hers.”
Adam held out his hand, and Millie grabbed it.
“We’re not saying we will never accept her. What we’re saying is you should be putting a little more thought into your actions and not be so trusting. You’re walking around here talking about being a husband and a father, but you’re not talking about how you’re going to route around this detour in your life and finish school, go to college, secure gainful employment, have a—”
“Dad, stop! Just stop!”
Julius’ bellow sent a shocked gasp through the room. His parents looked at him with wide eyes as the color rose in his cheeks.
“You don’t think I’m angry and upset at myself? At her? Well, I am, but I’m not going to shirk my responsibilities either. You raised me to be a good man, a family man. Excuse me if I’m doing what I think is best.” He focused intently on his father. “What I think a real man would do.”
He jerked my chair out from beneath the table, nearly sending me tumbling off it.
“Come on, Coats. I’ll take you home.”
I regained my balance and stood beside him. I didn’t know what to do with my hands, so I let them limply hang at my sides. The tension in the room was so thick I nearly choked on it.
“Mr. and Mrs. Samson, thank you for dinner,” I said. They may have thought I was a she-devil, but at least they’d know I was a she-devil with manners. “I want you to know that if the circumstances were different, you’d see that I’m a nice person and a good student. I…uh…” I cleared my throat. “I never meant for any of this to happen or to cause your family any harm.” I let my gaze linger on the eight kids now watching me. “Julius is an amazing person and he deserves so much in life. I wish there was something I could do to change the way things are but…well…I…” My chest was so tight I was surprised I could speak at all. “Anyway…thank you for dinner. It was wonderful.”
The words weren’t enough. I could tell by the looks on their faces.
They wanted more.
They wanted their life back. They wanted Julius’ life back.
And, for the first time, I wanted that too. I wanted to be a normal girl not buried in all this drama.
To think it could all go away with just three little words.
I’m not pregnant.
As I followed Julius out the door, I saw what was on the horizon, the very thing that would test my worth as a human being.
Could I do it? Could I find it in my heart to finally go the distance and tell the truth?
Could I be brave?
I stared out the window the entire drive home.
Questions circled my mind like an open drain, questions that would only lead to pain if I asked them, though not pain for Julius—pain for me.
We pulled up in front of my house, and a single question lengthened and grew until it blinded me. I couldn’t asked it because, if he answered honestly, it would destroy me. The truth could be devastating, and I wasn’t ready to hear it.
He turned the car off and faced me.
“I’m sorry about my parents.” His cheeks were still rosy, his brows squeezed in a potent mix of anger and humiliation. I knew
those emotions well; I’d felt them every day since I’d allowed myself to become Clay’s pawn.
“They were only doing what any good parent would do.” I placed my hand over his, feeling his warmth, his strength.
“They were being malicious.”
“They were being protective. Think about it, Julius. Imagine you had a son and some girl showed up saying he was the father of her baby—wouldn’t you ask questions? Wouldn’t you want to know everything you could so you could protect your son?” Some of the anger melted out of his eyes, replaced by sadness. “Your parents love you very much, and they only want what’s best for you. They’re right to be cautious.”
His mouth set into a hard line, and his eyes dropped down to our clasped fingers.
“You’re really pregnant, aren’t you Meg?” he asked. Then he looked up at me and my heart stood still. “You’re pregnant, and I’m the father, right?”
My lungs deflated. My mind stalled.
This was it, my chance to be brave, to tell Julius the truth, to own up to the consequences of my actions, right there in this car.
All I’d have to say was one word, and it would all be over.
Julius’ life would begin again, and I’d be back at square one.
Just one truth could set me free.
I stared into his eyes, trying to make my lungs work, forcing my heart to start beating again.
Just say it. It’s just one word. Just say it.
I opened my mouth.
I can do this.
I can be brave.
Then, behind him, in the side view mirror, I caught sight of my father carrying my mother’s frail body into the house.
My mouth immediately shut.
I didn’t want to hurt Julius, but I didn’t want to hurt my parents either. I didn’t want to burden them with my tuition problems when we were already going through such a hard time.
What would they say if I walked through the doors and told them I could no longer attend school? We were already hurting so much. The disappointment in their eyes would break my heart.
I took a deep breath.
“Yes,” I said. “I’m pregnant, and the baby is yours.”