Bittersweets_Terry and Alex

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Bittersweets_Terry and Alex Page 15

by Suzanne Jenkins

“You don’t have to unless you need to buy something,” she said.

  “I have a sweet tooth. Maybe I’ll see if I can get Christmas candy fifty percent off.”

  “Okay, come on then. It will give us something to talk about since we aren’t going to our families for a holiday meal.”

  “I thought you were cooking a turkey,” he said, teasing her.

  “I have steak in the freezer. How ‘bout I make you a steak for dinner?”

  “That be great,” he said, reverting to their private jargon. “Unless a pizza place is open on the Avenue.”

  “Pizza is better,” she said.

  “That be true,” he said, laughing.

  They walked into the store together side by side. “I have such an overwhelming need to hold your hand,” Rick said.

  “Well, fight it,” Terry said. “Because you know you wouldn’t be happy with me.”

  “Friends hold hands when they pray together,” he said.

  “But I’ll feel romantic if you start holding my hand,” she said.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I know you’re right.”

  “I be right,” Terry said, sadly.

  “Do you want me to go away?” he asked when they were inside.

  “No, I really don’t,” she said. “I really need you right now.”

  “Okay,” he said, hesitating. “Lead the way.”

  She looked up at the signs decorating the ceiling of the store, itemizing the merchandise, until she found feminine products. He followed closely behind her, like a husband would his wife, and she turned down the aisle, stopping in front of the pregnancy tests.

  “Oh,” Rick said, looking at her with concern. “Yikes.”

  “Yes,” Terry answered, reading the labels without touching the boxes, afraid they might taint her if she handled them.

  “What exactly are you looking for?” he whispered.

  “Early,” she said.

  “Before a missed period?” he asked.

  “How do you know this?” she said, frowning. “Is this something you have a lot of experience with?”

  “No, I just watch too much TV,” he said. “So it doesn’t have to be early if you’ve missed a period.”

  She looked around but they were alone in the store on Christmas Day. “I’m about two weeks late.”

  “Gotcha,” he said, reaching for a box. “This one is a popular brand.”

  “Okay, well get two,” she said under her breath, looking around again.

  “No one is listening,” he said. “You’re safe. Anyway, they’d think it was mine.”

  “If I am, I wish it was yours,” she said, close to tears.

  Rick put his arm around her. “You’ll be okay, sweetie. Hold it together. Let’s get candy now, half-off, stale Christmas candy that has been in the store since Thanksgiving.

  They filled a hand held basket with candy and pregnancy tests and went to the counter, daring the cashier to say a word.

  “Merry Christmas!” she said, handing them their bag and a receipt.

  “Okay, home so you can pee on that stick,” he said.

  “This changes everything for us,” she said. “I mean as a friendship. Before this we were sort of asexual. Now, well, now.”

  “You were never asexual to me,” he said. “I might be gay, but I appreciate a beautiful woman.” He took her hand and brought it to his lips and kissed her. “I appreciate you.”

  “Oh, Rick,” she said, bowing her head and giving in to an old-fashioned crying jag.

  “You’ll be okay,” he said, trying to stay calm, a muscle twitching in his jaw. “One step at a time. Do you want to pee at my house?”

  “No, I’d better do it at home,” she said. “Maybe my friend will have arrived.”

  “That never happens,” he said. “I think it will be positive. I have that feeling.”

  “Do you? Oh, God!” she screamed, ugly crying for all she was worth while he drove.

  “I’m sorry, honey,” he said, having to have both hands on the steering wheel as he bashed through snow drifts. “Can you hold on for a moment? I want to go into Germantown and see if the pizzeria is open.”

  Rick thinking of pizza while she was having a possible pregnancy meltdown made Terry laugh, the pendulum swinging the other way. Everything would be okay.

  “I can wait, if you buy me a calzone.”

  “I’ll buy you two,” he said.

  It was open. He ran inside and ordered and then came out again with a hot chocolate for her.

  “Aww, you’re so sweet,” she said.

  “You need to drink up so you’ll have lots to pee on the stick,” he said, looking at her with a goofy smile, making her laugh.

  Fifteen minutes later his phone beeped. “Pizza’s ready,” he said, jumping out of the truck.

  He returned with steaming hot packages of stinking pizza and calzones. “Oh, my God. Next time, hold the garlic!” he said. “Now your beautiful red coat is going to smell.”

  “It can go to the cleaners. Hurry, let’s get home.”

  “Can I get in your driveway?”

  “I don’t know. Can you?” she asked. “You’ve been driving like a maniac for the last hour. What’s a little pile of snow?”

  “Hold on,” he said, bashing through the snow drift the plow had piled in front of Terry’s driveway.

  “You’re legally insane,” she said, laughing.

  “I got you to stop crying, though, didn’t I?”

  “That be true,” she said, and they leaned in and kissed each other. “Like a true friend.”

  He came around to her door to take the food from her and she carried the drug store bag.

  “Do you want your candy?” she asked.

  “Yes, so I can divide it with you,” he said.

  They walked through the snow to the steps, her footprints made when she left that morning filled in already by more snow and drifting. She unlocked the door and was glad to see Earle’s lights on, and the sound of music and laughter coming from his apartment. His Christmas celebration had begun. There was still no sound from Benny’s.

  She opened her apartment door and put the drug store bag on the hall table. Unbuttoning her coat, it smelled like garlic and yeasty pizza crust.

  “I’m starving,” Terry said. “But I want to do this first.”

  He read the directions. “Hold appliance close to the urethra. Urinate, making sure stream hits stick. Shake excess urine off. Wait three minutes. One pink line is a negative result. Two pink lines is a positive result.”

  “Okay. I’ll be back.”

  He followed her into the bedroom. “I want to be with you,” he said.

  “You can be as soon as I go,” she said, closing the door.

  Pacing in her bedroom, Rick looked around at the space, the clean, spare decorating, the color of the walls a deep gray blue, very restful.

  “Okay, you can come in,” she said, having laid the stick on a fold of toilet paper at the edge of the sink. “Wait for three minutes now.”

  “So, where’d you say you went to college again?” Terry asked.

  “Berkley. But not California, Berkley. I’m sure I told you. You went to Michigan, correct?”

  “Yes,” she said. “I’m sure I told you.”

  He went to pick up the test but she yelled. “Rick, gross!”

  “I don’t care. I’ll wash,” he said, looking at the stick. “Oh, boy.”

  Covering her eyes, her heart was pounding so hard and so fast. “What is it?” she whispered.

  “You’re going to be a mother,” he said, slipping his arm around her shoulders.

  Terry held her hand out for the stick and after determining that there were indeed two lines there, she went to throw it away in the little trash can, but Rick called out, “No! Let it dry and you can add it to his baby book.”

  “His?” she asked.

  “It’s a boy,” he said, confidently. “You’re having a boy.

  “A boy,” she said, sighi
ng, not questioning Rick’s premonitions. “I’m going to have a baby boy.”

  The day after Christmas was supposed to be a work day, but Vince chose to keep the office closed since the city was in a state of emergency, the courthouse also closed, so nothing could be filed.

  “I’ll see you on Monday,” he said over the phone on Christmas night. “I’m afraid it’s falling on your shoulders as low-man on the totem pole to make all the employee calls. Paul thanks you for that.”

  “We have a call tree, Vince, and we’re hiring an office manager on Monday,” she said, but Vince had already hung up.

  Sitting cross-legged on the window seat, Terry called Corinne, the receptionist, the first employee on the call tree.

  “Corinne, this is Terry Kovac,” she said. “Can you hear me because I have terrible phone service.”

  “Loud and clear,” she said. “Tell me we have the rest of the week off.”

  “Merry Christmas! Yes, I’ll see you Monday.”

  “Is it paid?” she asked.

  “I’m sure you can use your personal days for it,” Terry said. “Now who do you call next?”

  “I call Fredericka and she calls the attorneys. I call the rest of the hired help.” This was said with a tinge of resentment.

  “Corinne, thank you for everything you do for the office. Truly, the place wouldn’t run without you. I hope you know I appreciate you.”

  “Why thank you, Terry. What a nice Christmas present.”

  “What did we give you this year?” Terry asked.

  “The same thing. One hundred dollars for every year worked. It’s much more than other offices give,” she said.

  “Hmmm. Maybe I ‘d better talk to Vince about that,” Terry said. “Psych! Ha! Gotcha!”

  “Oh God, I was just thinking of how I’d deny saying that when the others came to kill me,” Corinne said, finally relaxing.

  “Yes, well we’ll both be in trouble if anyone shows up at the office in the morning. Best get busy.”

  “I will, and thank you. Merry Christmas,” Corinne said.

  Terry ended the call and stretched out her legs. After discovering that she was going to have a baby, she just needed time to think, so Rick took his pizza and left, saying he understood completely that she was in shock. Shock was a kind word for what she was feeling. Horror, shame, fear, near hysteria all covered her emotions better than shock. Shock with its resulting numbness would be preferable to this.

  She went into the kitchen and flipped the light on, bending down to look out the window and wave, just in case Rick was watching. Shortly before six, he’d called her to say that he was going to visit a friend later that evening, a new acquaintance, and if things went well, he wouldn’t be home at all. It was a man in the neighborhood, and Terry wondered if it was Jason. Grabbing her journal, she turned the light off and went back to her spot on the window seat. The tree cast enough light that she could see what she was writing without turning on a bright light and illuminating the room to her neighbors.

  At the top of a fresh page, she wrote, Christmas Day. Tapping the pen on her leg, she thought about the significance of finding out she was pregnant on the day Jesus was born. History, or lore, claimed that the girl who conceived Him from the Holy Spirit was a virgin. Her family would have been mortified. They found Joseph, an older carpenter, to marry her so she and the baby wouldn’t have the stigma of an illegitimate birth.

  Was it still called that? Illegitimate? What a horrible word. The synonyms reeked of hate; illicit, criminal, dishonest, prohibited, banned. If it was within her power, she’d never allow those words to be used about her baby. It would be a chance to educate people, if possible. There was no one in her life that she was aware of who wouldn’t embrace her or her baby, but she could be mistaken.

  Pregnant single women were not uncommon employees in law offices in Philadelphia. She encountered them all the time, young women who had no support, whose jobs meant everything to them. They’d be leaving their six-week-old newborns with babysitters. Would that also be the fate of Terry’s little one?

  This brought up another urgent matter. Since the father of her baby was another lawyer there, what would it mean for Terry? Vince would be furious. For the first time in a while, she allowed herself to think of Alex. She’d avoided any contact with him over the past two weeks, since she’d become a partner. Vince had Alex join a team starting a new defense, and they were immersed in the early fact finding and research. Safely busy and away from her, the healing process had begun, and like her father had said, quoting Charlotte from Sex in the City, a week for everyday, she was almost over him. And now this.

  Under Christmas Day, she wrote, Pregnant! The internet was still out, but she figured that her due date was about August 16th. So much could happen between now and then.

  Her recent alcohol consumption was the worst concern. She’d had champagne, Irish coffee at Mrs. Dell’s, wine with Rich…ugh! From now on, she’d be diligent about her health, making sure to lay off the sugar; there was part of a cake leftover from the weekend that she’d throw away, and absolutely no alcohol.

  “I’m sorry, little baby. I hope it’s not too late,” she whispered, her hand over her flat belly.

  Then under Pregnant, she wrote Tell? – Don’t Tell? That was the question. Alex was going to be father, again. Although she sort of wished he’d disappear, it wouldn’t be fair to the child to not have his father. But Alex didn’t need to know until it was absolutely necessary.

  At that moment, she decided she’d do what she could to minimize the appearance of pregnancy. It would be beneficial in court when confronted with misogynists who looked upon women, pregnant women specifically, as weak, or ineffective. They’d be learning a thing or two in the next months. Known as a formidable arguer, prosecutors hated to see her in the courtroom. She’d make sure that quality was strengthened.

  The phone beeped and she assumed it was Rick, so when she saw a New Jersey number, her heart began to race. Alex.

  “Hello?”

  “Terry.”

  Emotion welled up in her chest, and she took a deep breath. Was he doing the same thing? All of her resolve disappeared.

  “Terry, I have to see you,” he pleaded. “I’m in town for work. Since I discovered we don’t have work, I have the next four days.”

  “Alex, you don’t want to do that to Jennifer,” she said, lying. She wanted him to leave his wife on Christmas Night, never to return. “I was just getting over you!”

  “I’m coming up,” he said firmly. “Will you be waiting?”

  This was the definitive moment. What was her answer going to be? She squeezed her eyes shut and the word no resonated in her mind.

  “Yes,” she said, ashamed of her weak willpower. “But I hope you have four-wheel drive.”

  “I don’t but I have front wheel, and that’s almost as good. I’ll see you in half an hour.”

  Hanging up, she took a last look at her journal. Tell? Don’t Tell?

  ***

  Chapter 17

  Showered, dressed and made up, Terry looked like her old self, maybe a little thinner, but not so miserable. “You look pretty unhappy,” Earle had said. “What can we do to make Terry happy again?”

  Thinking of Rick, she quickly texted him, the one person whom she didn’t mind knowing her personal business. Unexpected guest coming. Send good thoughts please.

  She didn’t hear back, but that was okay. She hoped he was sitting at a table for two with candlelight and wine.

  Waiting, she sat back down on the window seat. Many of her neighbors had decorated the outside of their houses with lights, both white and colorful. In almost every window there was evidence of a decorated tree. Soon, the lights would go off, a few brave souls leaving them on all night. She wished they’d keep them up all year.

  Phone beeping again, this time it was her father. Checking in. Did you have a nice day? Anna is an excellent cook. Her power went off at noon, but she has a generator, so I go
t that going. I got Mr. Cline to keep an eye on my place so I don’t have to go back tonight.

  Terry chuckled, thinking about her news. She wouldn’t tell him in a text message, not yet, anyway. Dad, I had a fine day. Ate calzones from the local pizza parlor, and will eat Tums all night tonight. Miss you. Let’s talk tomorrow.

  She saw headlights coming slowly up the hill, someone looking for her driveway. He waited, and then pulled in. Luckily, Rick had used the snow-blower on it that afternoon. Running down the stairs to open the door for him, she forgot how good he looked. Dressed in jeans and heavy jacket, he was ready for snow.

  The somber and serious Alex in place, when he saw her face in the door waiting for him, his entire countenance changed, even his body language perked up.

  Opening the door, she returned his smile. He passed through and she quickly closed the door and effortlessly moved into his arms. Earle’s curtains were closed, and she didn’t hesitate to kiss Alex hello, her hands on his face, him pulling her closer.

  “I missed you so much,” she said, deciding the only way to go with this was brutal honesty. “I love you Alex. I don’t want to live without you.”

  Tipping her face up, he looked into her eyes. “Terry, I love you. I can’t stand being away from you any longer. I’m telling Jennifer in the morning that it’s over.”

  “Come up,” Terry said, taking his hand.

  They reached her apartment and he didn’t waste any time. “Can we take care of business first?” he asked. “I’ve been waiting for this for three weeks.”

  “Yes,” she answered, walking backward to her bed.

  Alex threw his jacket and scarf over the railing, she pulled her leggings off, he unzipped his jeans. Already rock hard, he gently pushed her on her back onto the bed. Nestling in between her legs, he didn’t spend any time on formalities like he usually did, making sure her needs were met.

  This time, he just wanted to be inside of Terry. He pushed up against her and she yielded to him, wiggling her hips to facilitate his entry, then wrapping her legs around his body, moving with him until he grabbed her, kissed her, and came. Shuddering, falling against her, his face in her hair, and once he could speak, said over again, I love you, I’ve missed you, I love you.

 

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