Bless Her Heart

by Sally Kilpatrick

  With trembling fingers I removed the last pregnancy test from the box and barricaded myself in the bathroom, the rest of the house still asleep. This time, I glued my eyes to the pregnancy test the minute I finished washing my hands. Watched pots never boiled, and watched pregnancy tests never came up positive—these were two things I knew.

  What I couldn’t know is what I would do if I were somehow pregnant. Having mixed feelings for the first time ever made my head spin. On the one hand, having a child was what I wanted most in the world. On the other, I was almost divorced, had a new job that was didn’t take kindly to pregnancy out of wedlock and was less than secure. Then there was John.

  Oh, God. What would he say?

  Despite the faulty math, the baby almost certainly had to be Chad’s because John and I used protection. I mean, sure there was a statistical possibility of failure, but wasn’t it more likely that Chad was the father? Would a pregnancy derail the divorce? Make him double down on making things work between the two of us?

  No child of mine will grow up in a house with that man.

  Just the thought of having to share custody of a child with Chad made me want to hurl. At least John was a kind, decent human being.

  You think that now, my recently dormant shoulder devil said. Wait and see if a pregnancy doesn’t change his tune.

  Before my very eyes, a second line emerged in the blank area next to the line that was already there. The line grew darker and darker, and I swallowed hard.

  I’m going to be a mother.

  I sank against the opposite wall of the bathroom, wanting to cry, but not knowing if the tears would be joy or sadness or confusion or d) all of the above.

  “Posey? That you in there? Your Granny needs the restroom.”

  “Just a minute!” I scrambled to my feet and wrapped the test in toilet paper to conceal it, washing my hands one more. Odd how I didn’t feel different. I’d always thought being pregnant would immediately make me feel something. Other than a mild foretaste of nausea, I felt . . . nothing.

  “You okay?” Mom asked as I exited the restroom.

  “Just ate too much yesterday,” I said, willing myself to meet her eyes but unable to do so for very long. Why should I feel ashamed about being pregnant? She didn’t marry a single one of the men with whom she had babies.

  You’re embarrassed because you once swore you would never do what she did.

  That could be. Even so, I needed to think about things, get the doctor to confirm it, maybe. At the very least, I needed to talk with Chad and John and figure out how to proceed.

  Oh, God, what would I do about insurance? I was about to be off Chad’s plan. John probably didn’t have insurance. What if this pregnancy meant I didn’t get the job at the school? That full-time gig could be my only hope for insurance, and there was no way I could afford to pay out of pocket for having a baby.

  I closed the bedroom door behind me and looked longingly at the bed. How I wanted to burrow up under those blankets and never come out, but I needed to go to work and do a fabulous job in the hopes of earning a full-time position.

  Guess you’re even more of a cautionary tale than you thought.

  * * *

  Chad didn’t answer when I tried to call him at lunch, nor when I called him after school.

  I thought about calling John, but I couldn’t bring myself to dial the numbers until I spoke with Chad.

  Finally, as I was getting out of the car at home, fumbling with all of my school bags, Chad answered.

  “Posey, what a surprise,” he said drily.

  I slammed the car door and headed to the porch where I dropped all of my bags, choosing to sit on the porch swing rather than to take my business into the house. “Chad, I’m pregnant.”

  Silence.

  “It has to be yours,” I said in a shaky voice, “John and I used protection.”

  “It’s not mine, you whore.”

  I winced at the word but forged ahead. “But it has to be.”

  “It’s not.”

  “How do you know?”

  He laughed, an ugly bark that held no humor. “Because I had a vasectomy back in oh-one.”

  Surely I’d misheard.

  There had to be some kind of mistake.

  “You what?”

  “You heard me. I had a vasectomy before we even married. I knew I didn’t want to have kids, and I wasn’t about to use rubbers. You refused to go on the pill, always carrying on about children. It was easy to hide the operation since you insisted on being a virgin for our wedding night.”

  My turn to sit in silence.

  My memory banks struggled to reach back to the time before we married. In my mind I’d attributed the promise of kids and white picket fences to him. He had joked about getting a dog, but he’d never been enthusiastic about the children discussion. How had I not seen it? How had he so thoroughly fooled me?

  “But what about the doctor who told me I couldn’t have kids?”

  Chad snorted. “I paid him to tell you that.”

  My fists clenched so tightly that fingernails dug into my flesh. How could any human being be so evil?

  “Our whole marriage was a lie.”

  He sighed. “It was fun while it lasted.”

  “Fun?” Fury snapped somewhere behind my eyes. “Fun? You call lying to me and letting me cling to the hopeless notion I’d one day be a mother fun? Of all the awful things you did to me—and there were plenty of them—that is the most despicable, and I hope you rot in hell.”

  I threw my phone over the railing, my nostrils flaring and my heart trying to beat its way out of my chest. I paced the front porch.

  Never before had I contemplated injuring another human being, but I wanted to skewer my soon-to-be ex-husband. I wanted to knee him in the groin repeatedly. I hadn’t lost ten years of my life; he had stolen them.

  You’ve got to calm down for the sake of the baby.

  Sitting down on the porch swing, I closed my eyes and forced myself to think about my breaths, making each inhale and exhale even. My mind conjured a blond baby with blue eyes, one who looked a lot like John O’Brien. I could live with that.

  But what would John say? What if he demanded that I—no, I wouldn’t. Everyone in the entire godforsaken town could point and laugh and bless my heart for the rest of my life, but I, like Madonna, was going to keep my baby.

  Maybe I should go to the doctor first and confirm my pregnancy before I told John. He wasn’t Chad, but the previous conversation had rattled me. How could I have been so stupid as to stay married to such a sadistic bastard for so long? If I’d married Chad, then how could I know if John was truly good or just a wolf in sheep’s clothing? Chad had seemed nice, too, right up until the point when he wasn’t.

  Back then, Mom was still struggling. She’d just opened Au Naturel and was dealing with backlash over the name. Some of the churches in town were arguing that yoga wasn’t Christian and trying to shut her down. She was also arguing with the elementary school because Rain’s teacher had told her dinosaurs didn’t exist. Meanwhile, Henny had a learner’s permit, but he thought he could drive around town without supervision. Granny and Mom weren’t speaking. I remember the night I told her I was getting engaged to Chad. She’d come in late after working from seven in the morning until nine at night.

  “Mom, I’m engaged.”

  “Why? To whom?”

  Great. My Mom didn’t even know the man I was dating.

  “I’ve been dating Chad. He’s asked me to marry him.”

  Mom flopped into one of the kitchen chairs. “Is he that short guy you brought for Thanksgiving?”

  “Yes.”

  “He’s too old for you. And you need to live more on your own before you jump into marriage.”

  My blood boiled. “Excuse you? I did not come to ask your approval. We are going to get married, and I’m going to get out of this circus of a house where, hopefully, I’ll be able to conduct my life without angry calls from Creationis
ts or the police bringing my brother home from an illegal joy ride or women leaving flyers on the front porch about how your business is anti-Christian and too racy for Main Street.”

  “Posey, I am trying to provide for this family as best I can. You will notice that your Granny isn’t working anymore.”

  “Then I guess I’ll be one less mouth to feed.”

  I’d flounced off, and we hadn’t spoken at all until the wedding, at which point we had to forge an uneasy truce. Chad had offered to pay for everything since Mom and I weren’t speaking during the planning. At the time I’d thought he was being generous. Looking back, I can see he paid the bills so he could influence all of the decisions from what I wore to where we honeymooned. In those months before the wedding, though, he’d said repeatedly, “Don’t worry, Posey. I’ll take care of everything.”

  I didn’t yet realize that he really meant that he would dictate everything.

  You wanted security and normalcy. He promised you that, and you made the mistake of believing him.

  Security. That was one of the things Julia had mentioned a lifetime ago when she’d read those tarot cards. She’d warned me about my dark side and about indulgences. She’d predicted I would get pregnant. She foretold a sweet and ardent lover.

  She told you that nothing was impossible with God.

  I didn’t have to go to the doctor before I spoke with John. I knew the pregnancy test was accurate because Chad’s vasectomy explained every negative test up until this point. All of this time I’d thought there was something wrong with me, but my biggest fault was previously being a poor judge of character.

  Everything made sense except for how I became pregnant if John and I were using protection. I mean, condoms were supposed to be 98 percent effective.

  Well, if anyone could be in the 2 percent, it would be you.

  How many times had I prayed for a child? For almost ten years, each morning had begun with that prayer and each evening had ended with its refrain. I had prayed and prayed and prayed for a child.

  God had to be having a huge chuckle right now—especially since I’d been arrogant enough to give up church.

  I picked up my things and placed them inside the door, telling Mom not to wait on me for supper. Instead, I drove my car to John’s house.

  chapter 23

  Sick with dread, I shook as I rang the doorbell to John’s farmhouse. Somewhere within Rowdy barked and barked to the point I was beginning to think John wasn’t home. Then he answered the door, shirtless with his hair still wet from the shower. His eyes lit up and he smiled. “Posey!”

  My first instinct was to kiss him and to initiate the very act that had gotten me in trouble in the first place. Fortunately, I came to my senses.

  “Hey,” I said as I brushed past him, trying to ignore how his smile melted into a frown.

  “I was afraid I wouldn’t get to see you for another month at least,” he said, pulling me into an embrace. He leaned in to kiss me, and I almost let him.

  “We gotta talk.”

  “Uh-oh. Those are three words no man ever wants to hear.”

  “I’m pregnant.”

  His face blanched. “Okay. What do I need to do?”

  I stared at him. Such a different response from Chad. His immediate responsibility and willingness to roll up his sleeves caused tears to prick my eyes. He was an infinitely better choice for my baby’s father. If only I hadn’t been so selfish and had waited so we could do things properly. Now we’d both be ostracized, and our baby would be made fun of just the way I was.

  By this point sobs racked my body, and he put his arms around me and led me to the couch. “Hey, now. Everything’s going to be okay. We’ll have this baby—you are having the baby, right?”

  I cut him a dirty look through my tears. As if I would ever abort a baby—especially after wanting for so long to get pregnant.

  “Thank God,” he said. “I mean, I’ll support you no matter what, but—”

  “Just shut up and hold me.”

  He did. He stroked my hair and murmured comforting things until my sobs finally slowed down to great hiccupping gasps.

  “You’re going to be okay,” he said, holding me at arm’s length. “We’re going to be okay.”

  “I don’t even understand how,” I wailed. “We used protection.”

  He squeezed my shoulders before going back to his bedroom and returning with a frown and the condom box. Only one condom remained. I took it from the box and turned it over to see a two thousand nine expiration date. “These have expired.”

  “Yeah,” he said, running his hand over his mouth. “These were old when I went into rehab, and I haven’t slept with anyone in over two years.”

  “One of them must have torn,” I said.

  “I’m so stupid,” he said as he paced. “I didn’t mean to put you in this position.”

  “John, I asked you to,” I said softly. “And I still can’t regret it.”

  He treated me to a dimpled smile, but his eyes couldn’t quite meet mine. “I’m glad for that.”

  “Okay,” I said. “We’ll figure this out. I need to go to the doctor next week, but I can’t see how I’m not pregnant.”

  He knelt beside the couch where I sat and took my hand. My mouth went dry even as a part of me screamed, no, no, no.

  “Posey, will you marry me?”

  At the thought of getting married again, I couldn’t breathe. Sweat poured off me, and I trembled.

  “I know this baby is unexpected, but we’re good together, don’t you think?”

  Oh, what a glowing declaration of love. I wanted to tell him so, but I couldn’t form the words.

  “As soon as your divorce is final, then we can go to the courthouse. You can move in here—I have plenty of room—and I’ll get you a pretty ring just as soon as I can afford one.”

  I clutched at the air, but he was too busy problem solving to see how his proposal had induced panic.

  “I’ll have to get a better job, though,” he said with a frown. “High time I did something meaningful with my life anyway. I mean, other than this baby, of course.”

  I jumped from the sofa, jerking my hand from his. I bent over, gulping for air. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. I would not have another man dictating my life to me, no matter how much easier it would be, no matter that the man in question was one of the good ones.

  “Posey?” he patted me on the back.

  The world spun around me.

  “I’m going to help you sit on the couch. You’re going to put your head between your knees. We’re going to make it through this.”

  He gently eased me back on the couch, bending me over. But we? He already assumed there would be a we? Logically, I knew he was only trying to help. Emotionally, I wanted to run screaming from the room because I kept hearing Chad’s voice instead of his. I hadn’t thought about it in a long time, but my first marriage proposal had been “Of course we’re going to get married. I’m thinking June.”

  No, no, no. I would not jump from the frying pan into the fire.

  But I did have to think about the life inside me.

  Slowly but surely, air came back to me.

  “You scared me half to death,” he said once my breathing had returned to normal.

  I nodded because I didn’t trust myself with words just yet.

  “When you’ve got your breath, then tell me when your divorce will be final, and we can make plans to get married. I’ll take care of you. I promise.”

  He would take care of me? Bile rose in my throat. “No.”

  “No? Posey, don’t be ridiculous. We made a baby. Of course, I’m going to marry you.”

  It didn’t matter that his tone was almost playful. In my head I heard Chad’s snide version of “Posey, don’t be ridiculous.”

  I jumped to my feet and he did, too, towering over me in a way that suddenly felt menacing instead of protective. I poked his chest with my finger. “I didn’t mean to get pregnant yet, but I am not g
oing to leave one marriage and hop right into another.”

  “Be reasonable—”

  Another one of Chad’s favorite admonitions.

  “Be reasonable? A reasonable person would’ve known if his condoms were expired and wouldn’t have assured me that everything would be okay when he didn’t know if it would be or not. A reasonable person would stop for five seconds and ask me what I want to do instead of barreling ahead with a proposal while I was hyperventilating!”

  My breath wanted to leave me again. I willed it to stay even.

  “Hey!” He held up both hands. “It takes two to tango.”

  “Yeah, yeah. The dance was lovely, but maybe that’s all I wanted from you.”

  Punching him in the gut wouldn’t have been more effective than my words, and I regretted them almost as soon as I said them, but I continued as if driven by another part of me. “I am done being controlled and bossed around.”

  “Posey, take a few breaths and—”

  “I just took about a thousand breaths, and here you are asking about my divorce so you can plan my next wedding after the world’s least romantic proposal. No. I can do this myself.”

  I snatched up my purse and headed for the door. He grabbed for my arm, and I reflexively hit at him. He let go, stepping back with wide eyes.

  I made a run for it.

  “It’s my baby, too!” he shouted from the door.

  “Good. You can help pay for it!”

  I plopped down into the car too hard and slammed the door before reversing entirely too quickly and almost hitting a tree. John came running out into the yard barefoot, shouting about how I needed to think about the baby.

  That made me even madder. I’d been thinking about babies for over ten years. My husband had intentionally kept babies from me. Now that I’d managed to conceive it was due to the carelessness of another man, who, apparently, also wanted to run my life. I wouldn’t have it. No, I would not.

  I tore out on to the main road, tires squealing and the scent of burning rubber invading the car.

  The whole thing wasn’t fair.

  If only I’d gotten over my shyness and talked to John in high school, maybe admitted my crush. Maybe I could’ve married him in the first place. Maybe he wouldn’t have been an alcoholic, and we would’ve had four lovely towheaded children by now. If only I’d figured out Chad was an asshole from the outset, I could’ve saved myself from wasting ten years and then making a lifetime of bad choices in just a few weeks.