“I know, I love you too, that’s why this is so hard,” I said my smile flickering.
“Yeah, I know,” he said helping me clean up. “I mean, I like dealing a little pot here and there, the money’s good, but I don’t see it as a way of making a living – not over the long run at least – way too risky. I’ve known that much ever since that night at Cabrini Green. He sees dealing as his only future.” He hesitated for a moment. “Don’t worry, we’ll work it out – we always do.”
I sighed, “So what am I supposed to do while the two you are ‘working it out’? I’ve barely seen you since he’s been home.”
“I know, and that ends now – I’ve missed you, babe. I want to be here… like I was before. Assuming that’s what you still want?” his voice dropped off, half questioning, half stating a fact.
How the hell did he always manage to do that… know when I’ve given in before I even did? He knew the answer to that question; of course I wanted him around. Well I didn’t have to admit it… he could damn well work for it! I thought.
“Hmm, let me think about that,” I replied biting my lower lip for some control.
Michael grabbed me around the waist and lifted me into his arms; he grinned, and started walking toward the bedroom. “You can think about it in here.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
My Mother Was Right!
It was the end of September. Mary Beth had been back since the beginning of the month. The new semester had started and I was pregnant.
How the hell had this happened? It had to be Karma – my mother said I’d end up getting pregnant, and have to get married again! I was on the pill – had been on it for years, ever since moving to Chicago, faithfully taking it each and every morning, like clockwork , except that time while I was sitting on the bench in Lincoln Park mulling things over. I had run out, and hadn’t had a chance, or maybe I didn’t have the energy, to get to the Planned Parenthood clinic to have my prescription refilled, so I missed a week – but I had started them again right away, taking the first weeks’ worth of my cycle all at once. Now I was sitting in that same clinic being told I was pregnant. As soon as I missed my period I had been suspicious, then when it didn’t come and didn’t come, I made an appointment; I was never late, my body ran like a precisely tuned Swiss timepiece. So when my breasts felt different somehow, more sensitive, I was suspicious, but I never thought the test results would be positive. The doctor said it was early – I was only about six weeks along. The clinic gave me some pamphlets on my options, none of which sounded good to me. Holy Christ – what the fuck am I going to do now?
~~~~~~~~
I called Mary Beth telling her I needed to see her now; we made plans for me to come to her place that evening. I called The Canteen and told Charlie I wouldn’t be able to come in that night; no, I wasn’t sick, but Mary Beth was and I needed to help her. Then I called Michael, and fed him the same line of bullshit.
Mary Beth was living in a studio apartment in Evanston, just off campus in one of the older houses that had been converted for students. Her apartment actually reminded me of Michael’s place over the garage except his was larger, and she had old concert posters all over the place to hide the ugly green walls.
“So what’s the big emergency that you couldn’t tell me over the phone?”
I stared at her in silence for a few seconds then blurted out, “I’m pregnant.” As I stepped into the room, the tears started to flow.
“Oh my God! Are you sure? You’re on the pill; maybe it’s something else.”
“Yes, I’m sure – I went to the clinic today and had a pregnancy test… The doctor says I’m about six weeks along.” I replied reaching out to take the Kleenex Mary Beth was handing me to dry my eyes. I plopped down in an overstuffed chair by her desk – the tears wouldn’t stop. My mind was racing with things I wanted to say, but the words wouldn’t come out of my mouth – I felt like I did when I was calling for help on the park bench, but no one answered.
Mary Beth grabbed the box of Kleenex then sat on the arm of the chair, signaled me to scoot over, and slid in beside me telling me to just sit there and cry. “I’ve got a whole new box of tissue in the cabinet if you need it.”
Finally calming down some, I was able to answer her questions. I told her about running out of pills, and never thinking it would be a problem. I figured I got pregnant right after Michael reappeared from his MIA time with Keith. “I never, never expected this,” I moaned. “I’ve always been so careful before, how could I have done this?”
“Have you told him yet? Are you going to tell him?” she asked.
“No, but I will. Keeping secrets is too corrosive. I haven’t got the energy for it. I’ll explode if I try to keep it from him, but I just need to figure out what I’m going to do first.”
I showed her the literature from the clinic. Most of it had to do with prenatal care, but there was one that talked about available options: 1) keep the baby and live happily ever after, 2) give the baby up for adoption, 3) abortion – currently illegal, and potentially dangerous in all but a couple states, and Illinois was not one of them. I had zero moral objections to abortion, in fact, I had joined several protests over the last few years hoping to force this country into changing the law – too many women were dying or could never have kids later from botched procedures because of our screwed up laws, and all the religious zealots trying to force their opinions onto everyone. A woman’s right to choose a safe, legal, affordable abortion was one of my ‘soap box’ issues. I knew there was a case pending at the Supreme Court, just waiting on a decision, but it had already been delayed, so by the time those nine old farts made up their minds, I figured this kid would not only be born, it would be graduating from high school! That didn’t do me any good – I needed abortion to be legal this minute.
Mary Beth pulled a calendar out of her desk drawer; we figured out the whole trimester thing. I had time to deal with this, time to think. I knew I did not want a kid. At this point I didn’t see myself ever wanting kids, and I sure as hell didn’t want one now, like this: in the middle of a divorce; fucking a drug dealer; fighting with depression or whatever the hell it was that caused this to happen in the first place; getting stoned all the time (God only knew what kind of damage I’d already done to this thing with pot, Ludes, and Valium); in school with a full year to go before graduating; no means of support; not to mention having to tell my parents who would go berserk and disown me! I could hear my mother’s voice now saying, “I told you so,” and the scandal it would cause – oh my God!
We opened a bottle of wine, sat, talked, and ate Cheetos for hours both of us finally falling asleep stretched across her pull-down bed. Mary Beth was going to talk to Kent, and try to find a real doctor who would do an abortion here in Chicago – such a person had to exist, the only issue was finding him or her, and of course, figuring out how to pay for it, but I’d worry about money later. I was going to go back to Planned Parenthood, and see if they could help with a referral. I was pretty sure abortion was legal in Hawaii and New York and maybe a couple other states without having to prove rape or incest – maybe they could help me make arrangements at a place in New York. I could get there if I had to.
At least I had time to plan. But first, I had to tell Michael. I had no idea how he’d react – this was not a subject we’d ever even gotten close to discussing.
~~~~~~~~
It was Saturday. The bar would be busy tonight. Michael and Keith would be there – with any luck, Keith would find some girl to go home with, and would disappear early. That had been his pattern since Michael started staying with me again. When he didn’t find someone, he’d crash on my couch, something I didn’t want to happen tonight. He had no problem finding women now that his hair was growing out, plus he had grown a beard and mustache that added to his rugged, virile, tough guy look - some nights he had two or three vying for his attention.
The two of them arrived wasted and in great moods. I had an idea what
they were celebrating, but wasn’t positive. Since Michael and Rick had refused to be part of Keith’s smuggling scheme, he recruited a couple buddies from his old Army unit who now lived in California, to be his partners. The current plan was for them to acquire the seeds from other Army dudes who were still over there, put together some kind of growing operation out west, and then Michael and Rick would distribute it in the Midwest. My guess was that some piece of this plan had now come together. Before I could ask, Keith was standing about two inches away from my face telling me it was my lucky day – he was leaving on Monday for California. “Really?” I said looking around his shoulder at Michael who nodded in agreement with a shit-eatin’ grin on his face. “Well then, I guess it is my lucky day,” I said thinking Well shit, it’s going to be impossible to talk to Michael tonight; maybe I should wait until Keith is actually gone – maybe not.
I was right. Talking to Michael was impossible. The rest of the night he kept asking why I didn’t want to smoke, why I wasn’t celebrating with them, but was too wasted to push the issue. I wasn’t sure myself, except I had had a twinge of guilt floating around in my head about the wine with Mary Beth, and didn’t want to add to it. As soon as we got back to the apartment after breakfast at the Sunrise Diner, Michael passed out – both of us sleeping Sunday morning well past noon.
~~~~~~~~
I woke up before he did, but just laid there watching him sleep, wondering how to tell him. None of the words I could think of seemed right; there was just no good way to say it. I could feel a tear roll down my cheek, and drop onto the pillow case. Random thoughts rolled around in my head, but I couldn’t hold onto any of them – the only thing I knew for sure was that today, whatever his reaction was to the news, would affect both of us for a very long time to come.
“Hmm, good morning, babe,” Michael said rolling towards me.
I reached up wiping my eyes and cheeks with my hand before he could see the tears and said, “good morning.”
He reached over, pulled me closer and asked, “What are you doing?”
“Nothing… just watching you sleep,” I replied giving him a soft kiss.
“How long have you been awake? Shit my head hurts – Christ, I was fucked up last night!”
I brushed the hair from his face with my fingers, kissed him again and murmured, “Hmph, yes you were. I’ll go get you some Tylenol and make some coffee.”
“Oh no you don’t – you’re not going anywhere. I know a much better cure for a hangover,” he said pushing me flat on the bed, and running his hands over my torso as he nuzzled my neck. Kissing his way down my body, he casually commented on how ‘rosy’ my nipples looked this morning, “I love you Jackie.”
“I love you too Michael,” I whispered feeling my eyes fill with water again. Goddamn it, this is going to be so difficult.
~~~~~~~~
“Is your head doing any better now that you’ve had some food and coffee?” I asked a little later. I had fumbled around the kitchen and managed to produce a decent ham and cheese omelet, toast and coffee – Michael was on his third cup.
“Yeah, much better. So what was up with you last night – you stayed straight. Don’t you think Keith heading to California is worth celebrating?” he asked.
“Yeah, I think it’s wonderful. I just wasn’t in the mood for it last night. So, ahhh… what kind of plans do you have for the day? Anything in particular you have to do?”
“No, why? What did you have in mind – you want to go somewhere?” he replied drinking more coffee.
Piling dishes into the dishwasher I shook my head and responded, “No, no, I… well, well I was just wondering if you had time…” my voice trailed off.
Michael looked at me quizzically, “Is something wrong?”
“No, nothing’s wrong, I mean …” my voice faded again. He was watching me, his eyebrows pulled together – he sensed something. I continued, “It’s just… well, I have to talk to you.”
“Sure, of course – is it Mary Beth? You said she was sick – is she okay?” he replied. I poured more coffee for both of us, and headed towards the couch.
I took a very deep breath hoping for strength, looked up at him as he followed me into the living room saying, “No she’s fine – it’s me.”
“You? I don’t understand – are you saying you’re sick?”
“No, no one’s sick,” I snapped. Why the hell was I snapping at him, he didn’t do anything wrong. “Will you please stop trying to guess? Shit, there’s no good way to say this.” It felt like I stopped breathing as I turned to face him. “I’m pregnant.”
Michael lowered himself down onto the couch beside me, but said nothing. His expression had frozen when the word ‘pregnant’ came out of my mouth. He was silent – I was pretty sure he had stopped breathing too. He was just looking at me as if I’d shot him – no it was shock. Finally, unable to stand it another second I said, “Please say something.”
“Are you sure? How long have you known?”
“Yes, I’m sure. I had a pregnancy test on Friday – so I’ve known for two days.”
“But you’re on the pill. How did this happen if you’re on the pill?”
“I am on birth control pills. But when you were gone, when you were hanging out with Keith, I ran out and missed about a week. I took all of them when I got the prescription refilled, but I guess it…” I had been looking him in the eyes, trying to see what he was thinking, but I couldn’t look at him any longer. I closed my eyes, lowered my head, and felt tears welling up inside me. “I figure I got pregnant right after that – the night you brought all the Chinese food or the next morning.” My throat tightened, and I choked on my next words, “I’m six weeks along.”
“So that’s why you didn’t smoke or drink last night?”
“Yes.” I replied looking up at him again. His face was blank, his voice emotionless. “I mean I didn’t want to add to whatever damage I may have already done, before I knew.”
“Does that mean you want to have it?”
“No, it doesn’t. It just means… Shit, I don’t know what it means. I just didn’t want to do any more damage, that’s all – don’t read anything more into it than that,” I said clipping my words and sounding irritated. My throat was so tight that it was difficult to swallow – I could feel a panic rising inside me that I was having a hard time keeping down.
He was silent again for a moment, then flashed me a serious look, “Do you want this? Did you get pregnant…?”
“No! No!” I yelled barging in on his statement. “What the fuck are you saying? You think I’m trying to trap you somehow? Are you crazy? No I didn’t get pregnant on purpose you motherfucker and no – I don’t want it!” I erupted.
“What if I do?”
“Do you?”
“It was just a question – not a statement, Jackie. What if I did tell you I wanted this baby, what then? Do I have a say in this decision?” he said staring at me. I tried taking a drink of my coffee, but barely managed to swallow. I felt my whole body tremble with anger, my hands shook as I watched myself lower the mug back onto the coffee table. He put his cup down too.
“I’m sorry Michael, but the truth is – it’s not your decision…”
“Then why the fuck did you even tell me?!?” he yelled, cutting me off, and storming over to the front window. “When you found out you went to Mary Beth – the two of you have already made the decision, haven’t you? You should have come to me, not her! So what are you going to do – find some back alley abortionist with a coat hanger? I won’t let you do that Jackie – I won’t!”
“Won’t let me! You won’t LET me? What the fuck are you, a friggin’ caveman? How the hell are you going to stop me – are you gonna club me over the head, and lock me up until I have this thing? It’s my body and my decision!” I screamed back, the tension inside me exploding into tiny fragments.
He spun around, came across the room and had grabbed me by the shoulders before I saw him actually move. �
�Then why the fuck did you bother to tell me if it’s all your decision? Why? Tell me why?” he demanded shaking me back and forth.
“I told you because I didn’t want to keep it a secret… I didn’t want this to end our relationship; I thought you had a right to know, and because… I need your support,” I yelled in his face struggling to get free.
“Money? You need my money? I can’t believe you’re actually saying this to me!”
“Shit no! I’m not talking about money – I don’t want any money from you Goddamn it! I meant I needed you to be there… hoped you’d be supportive – I don’t want to go through this alone!”
He released his hold on me and walked back over to the window. I watched him stand there just staring out – neither of us spoke. After what seemed like an eternity, he turned, walked by me into the bedroom, returning a couple minutes later, completely dressed. “I’m going out for a while. I’ll be back later,” he announced opening the door. I just nodded – bursting into tears crying as soon as the door closed.
~~~~~~~~
I wanted to go out too, to run – go anyplace, be anywhere, except here. The inner trembling forced itself outward until my whole body was shaking. Tears rolled down my cheeks. My legs would no longer support me, I crumbled to the floor in the front hall, curled up and cried. I cried until there weren’t any tears left; I cried until my mind couldn’t race anymore; I cried until I was shrouded with darkness.
I must have fallen asleep on the floor, but I have no recollection of dozing off. Waking, I stood up, made my way to the bathroom and then to bed. All I wanted was to fall back asleep, but all I did was toss and turn. I couldn’t think about anything other than the look on Michael’s face as he walked out the door – the shock, the pain, the sadness in his eyes. I knew how much I hurt him. I told him it was my decision - yelled it in his face. I believed that, but I knew it was his decision too. And he was right… I should have gone to him first, not Mary Beth.
Love's Illusions: A Novel Page 21