Rebecca

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Rebecca Page 14

by Adam J Nicolai


  She had just paused to glance at Becca and make sure she was still asleep when the phone rang. An abrupt panic seized her. Don't wake the baby, don't wake the baby, don't wake the baby -

  She grabbed it before the second ring. "Hello?"

  "Hey," Cal said. "All calmed down?"

  His tone was amicable, but the words steamed with condescension. They knocked her sideways, made her want to scream. 'Calmed down?' What the hell is that supposed to mean? Like she was some kind of loose cannon, completely unreasonable. Like she -

  Suddenly, she realized: he was doing it on purpose. He knew her buttons better than she did. He was pushing them.

  The rage drained away. He wasn't the only one who could spar with words.

  "Hello?"

  "Yeah, I heard you." She flipped the phone onto speaker and set it on the counter next to the coffee stain she was scrubbing. "Go ahead."

  "Can you take me off speaker?" He hated being on speaker. He always said it felt like no one could hear him.

  She indulged a petty smirk. "No, I'm cleaning."

  "Ah. I'll call back."

  "Now is fine. Becca's sleeping. What's up?"

  Three days ago he'd asked her to marry him. Acting as if she had no idea why he might be calling threw him into a tailspin. Score one for Sarah.

  "I... well, did you think any more about what I said?"

  "About getting married, blowing off Yale, and washing your laundry everyday while you're going to Georgetown? No, not really."

  "Sarah, come on."

  "See, you keep saying stuff like that. 'Come on.' 'Don't be like that.' I don't know why you can't realize this, Cal, but there are actually two perspectives on this situation. It might be easier for you to understand where I'm coming from if you take a second to try and imagine it."

  "I have! I'm trying to come up with something that's good for both of us."

  "How is leaving my life behind and hiding in your apartment with a baby any good for me? How is it even good for you? Becca cries, Cal. She cries all the time. It'll drive you crazy. You think you'll be able to study with that going on? It's impossible."

  "Well, that's just it. You won't be able to study either, while she's around. It makes the most sense for you to take care of her."

  While she's around? He made it sound like the baby was going somewhere. She wanted to berate him as an idiot, remind him that Becca wasn't going anywhere for at least another eighteen years, rip him a new one for daring to assume that since someone had to take care of the baby, it may as well be the woman.

  But she refused to let him incense her. Instead she backed up a step from his idiocy, and let herself marvel at it.

  "Well, you're right about that much," she said. He hadn't even smelled her head. "She should be with someone who loves her."

  He didn't answer. She wondered if she'd actually gotten through to him.

  "That's a low blow, Sare."

  She shrugged. "If you say so."

  "You know, you don't like it when I say, 'Don't be like that'? You know why I say it? Because you've completely changed. You were nothing like this before."

  "You've got me there. I've completely changed. What blows my mind is, you haven't."

  He blew an exasperated sigh. "Whatever."

  The bedroom door clicked open, and Tiff came into the kitchen - disheveled, but alert.

  "Hey," Sarah said.

  "Hey." She glanced at Becca, asleep in the swing, and back at Sarah. "You all right?"

  Sarah nodded. "I slept. It was amazing."

  Tiff absorbed this. "Baby good?"

  "Baby good."

  "Is that Tiff?" the phone demanded.

  "Morning, Cal," Tiff called as she shuffled to the bathroom.

  "Is that Tiff?"

  "Yeah." The stain in the counter was out. Sarah arched her back, stiff from bending into the job. "That was Tiff."

  "What the hell is she doing there?"

  Ridiculously, a host of defenses and excuses leapt to her tongue. She ignored them and turned on the faucet to rinse the rag. "What are you, my mother?"

  A heartbeat. Then: "Ahhh, I get it. Wow. So how long has that been going on?"

  "What, how long has she been coming over to help me with Becca?"

  "Yeah. Sure."

  Just since last night. I had a nervous breakdown. "I don't see how that's any of your business."

  "It's none of my business that you're seeing a dyke?"

  She slapped the faucet off and stared at the phone. "Excuse me?"

  "You heard me. Wow. That explains so much."

  The scales were tipping. She fumbled after her earlier confidence, felt it slipping through her fingers.

  "We're not -"

  "It explains why you never got wet for me, doesn't it? Man, it explains everything. Were you guys fucking the whole time we were together?"

  She grabbed the phone, snapped it off speaker. "We are not fucking."

  "I thought it was none of my business."

  "You are such a dick!"

  "You would know, chica."

  She glanced back toward the bathroom and cupped her hand over her mouth. "She is a friend, who is helping me with my daughter, since my deadbeat boyfriend is too fucking shallow to do it himself."

  "Oh, give me a break. You don't even want me over there. Does your mom know?"

  Sarah's blood turned to ice.

  "'Cause she would fucking flip."

  No, and please don't tell her, please, she'll disown me and I'll end up on the street. "Don't you dare."

  "Why the hell not? You already ruined everything for me."

  "I ruined everything for you? You could've kept your dick in your pants!" It was reflexive outrage; she regretted it as soon as she said it. They'd been over this ground enough already.

  "Yeah, Sare, you ruined everything. My dad is all up in arms about this kid."

  "You..." She couldn't stifle a disbelieving laugh. "Your dad?" She'd always known how shallow Cal was, but she suddenly realized it was more than that: he was a child. "Was that whole 'getting married' thing even your idea? Or did he put you up to that?"

  Bullseye. The silence on the line was all the answer she needed.

  "Oh my god, Cal. That... that is just pathetic."

  "All right. Shut up."

  Not this time. "Let me guess. He said you have to take care of Rebecca, or he won't pay for school."

  "Would you shut the fuck up?"

  "That is rich. I mean, I thought you were an idiot before, but I at least gave you credit for coming up with the idea."

  "Would you - !" He snapped quiet. "Look, all right. I get why you're mad."

  Well, bravo!

  "This is... we fucked up. Okay? Both of us did. But I'm not throwing my whole life away for one mistake." His voice dropped to a whisper. "We have to get rid of the kid."

  75

  The breath fled her lungs. She remembered her relief when she thought Becca had stopped breathing, her idle daydreams of leaving her to suffocate in the car.

  "There's got to be someone who'll take it. I Googled and found a bunch of places."

  "You're talking about adoption."

  She could hear his sneer. "No, I'm talking about pitching it over a cliff. What the hell, Sare?"

  I might not put it past you. But that wasn't true, not quite, so she bit it back. Her hammering heart started to slow.

  "Look, I know we talked about this a little bit before, but it's actually way easier than we thought. I called one of 'em. We can get in there Monday. Tomorrow. They act fast, too. I think we could probably get it wrapped up this month. We could both go to school like nothing happened. I think they stick the kid in foster care, or something, until someone takes it for good."

  While he talked, Sarah stepped out of the kitchen to check on her daughter. The swing's batteries had run out again, and the girl had slid down in the stationary swing. Her head was flopped over at a nearly right angle to her shoulders, her lips huge and pouting. />
  Behind her closed eyelids were Sarah's eyes.

  "The best part," Cal pressed, "is the kid would have a good home. You know, with people who actually want it."

  I want her. The ferocity of this thought set a fire in her chest. I want her. Why? What had changed? She had no idea.

  "Sarah?"

  "No," Sarah said. "No, I'm not gonna do that."

  "Wh-?" Cal huffed and grunted, on the verge of whining. "Why? You can't take care of her! Sarah, it was a mistake! There are people out there who would actually want it, why would you - ?"

  "I want her, Cal. She's my daughter."

  "But you can't...! God, what the fuck is wrong with you?"

  She reached out to stroke Rebecca's tiny finger. In her sleep, the girl clutched at her hand.

  "You're living in an apartment your mom paid for! When she finds out you're a dyke you won't even have that!"

  "She's waking up. I gotta go."

  "Don't you hang up on me!"

  She hung up.

  76

  The air was remarkably still without Cal's accusations cluttering it. She dropped the phone to the carpet, and watched her daughter sleep in silence.

  She knew Becca couldn't understand, but she wanted to say something. She wanted to express how she was feeling. The problem was, she wasn't sure how she felt.

  Becca was still holding her finger. Sarah stared at it, trying to comprehend. Then she looked at her daughter's face, and whispered, "I love you."

  Still asleep, Becca drew a shuddering breath through her small mouth, then let it out in a dramatic sigh.

  "I should've told you before. It's really hard though, being alone like this, and I wasn't... it's hard to remember how alone you are." She licked her lips. "It's gotta be so scary for you. And I feel like a complete idiot, but you must think I hung the sun and moon." The notion of being everything to another human being was backbreaking. She could feel it crushing her.

  "You should know I didn't plan this. And I'm not saying that to make you feel bad. I don't want you to feel bad." I won't treat you the way my mom treated me. "But I just... I had to change my plans when you came along, and fast. And I wasn't ready. Usually I'm ready for things. I wasn't ready for you."

  Becca started rooting.

  "From here on out, we're in it together. I don't know how this all ends up. I want to go to school if I can, but if I can't, then..." She trailed off, the consequences of that possibility swarming like gnats. "...then, I don't know, but you come first. All right?" Cal's rabid desire to get rid of the kid had repulsed her. She refused to be that. "You come -"

  Tiff stepped out of the bathroom. Sarah shut her mouth, feeling at once ridiculous and ashamed for feeling ridiculous. Tiff paused in the little hallway, looking uncertain. "Cal not happy?" When Sarah didn't answer right away, she went on. "Sorry. I wasn't trying to eavesdrop. You guys were just" - she gestured awkwardly - "really... loud."

  Sarah shook her head, got back to her feet. "It's okay. It's not like you can help it."

  "Are your conversations always like that?"

  Interesting question. Sarah considered it. "Pretty much."

  "Look, I know you said he didn't hurt you -"

  "Tiff..."

  "- but are you scared at all? Do you want to get out of here?"

  "No. I appreciate you asking, but no. I'm really not worried about that. He just... he's flipping out. His dad is apparently on his ass about taking care of Becca."

  Tiff rolled her eyes. "His dad?"

  Sarah laughed. "Yeah. That's pretty much what I said."

  "God, what a loser. Is he still on about the marriage thing?"

  "I don't think so. I think he got the hint." She hesitated. "He wants to put Rebecca up for adoption. He says we can do it and be in school by the end of the month. I told him no."

  "You want to keep her."

  "Yeah. I do."

  Tiff nodded, then shook her head. "Man." She coughed a laugh. "I thought my life was complicated."

  77

  Sarah made some late breakfast for them while Tiff fed the baby. "French toast and bacon," Tiff observed. "You trying to show up my mac and cheese?"

  "Not possible. That was the best meal I've ever had in my life."

  Tiff laughed and glanced down at Rebecca, feeding in her arms. "Your mom has low standards."

  They set up at the dining room table. The windows and the patio door were open, letting light and a pleasant breeze into the apartment. The punishing heat had finally broken; it couldn't be more than eighty degrees out there.

  Sarah had grabbed some paper towels to use as napkins, and they fluttered on the table; she tamped them down with drinking glasses. Traffic rolled lazily down Riverside and pedestrians chattered.

  Sarah felt something weird: a sense of belonging.

  "Oh my god, French toast has no right tasting this good." Tiff had Becca draped against her shoulder, burping her with one hand while she fed herself with the other.

  "Now you know how I felt about that mac and cheese. Here." Sarah came around the table and scooped up the baby. "I think it's your favorite time, kiddo: tummy time."

  "Woo hoo!" Tiffany supplied.

  "Breakfast will be served this morning against the lovely backdrop of screaming child."

  "It does add a certain ambience."

  Sarah burped Becca again, then laid out a blanket and set her on the floor, looking toward the table. The girl struggled mightily to lift her head, her arms quivering with the effort, her wide eyes taking everything in.

  "We're right here, okay?" Sarah assured her. "Right here." Becca met her eyes, then looked toward the light from the patio door, enthralled.

  "Thanks for letting me crash," Tiff said when she came back.

  "Are you kidding? Of course. Sorry I... you know, freaked out yesterday."

  "It's okay. I remember my mom being crazy when Kevin was born. Dad did the same thing once - stuck Kevin in his room upstairs and took us all down to the basement." She shook her head, gazing into the past. "I don't think I was much help then."

  "Well, you were what? Nine?"

  "Something like that."

  They ate. Sarah wasn't sure what else to say. She had a hundred questions, but couldn't speak any of them.

  "Hey," she finally managed. "Becca's Dedication is on Tuesday. Do you think you could come with?"

  "Is that a church thing?"

  "Yeah. My mom set it up. You go and dedicate your baby to Jesus."

  Tiff looked skeptical. "You sure they'll want me there, Sare?"

  "I want you there. So it doesn't really matter."

  "Your mom's not gonna be happy."

  "Nope." She suddenly realized, though, exactly how uncomfortable it might be for Tiff, because churches didn't come a whole lot more anti-gay than the Assembly of God. In the same instant, she also realized that that was exactly why she wanted Tiff with. She was dreading going in alone.

  Tiff shrugged. "Sure, I should be able to." She gave Sarah a little smile. "I'm honored."

  Sarah scoffed. "Yeah, well, my mom set it up. I wasn't even sure I was gonna do it. I haven't actually been to church in months. My mom made me go meet with our pastor a few times. I think she was scared I was gonna sneak out in the middle of the night with a coat hanger or something if he didn't talk some sense in to me. You know, what with all the secular influence from public school and debate. She doesn't trust me worth a damn."

  "Yeah. I've noticed."

  "I kind of wonder if she set this up just to get me back to church."

  "Knowing your mom, that wouldn't even surprise me."

  78

  Sarah brought Becca into the bedroom and laid her in the swing around eight that evening. The girl cried for awhile - maybe ten minutes - and then passed out.

  "Tiff," Sarah said when the living room was quiet. "What the hell am I gonna do?"

  They were sitting at opposite ends of the couch. Tiff looked at her, her eyes neutral.

  "I mean
, Yale is out, right? I can't bring Becca to Connecticut. I can't have her in the dorm rooms. I love her and I want to take care of her, but..."

  "You don't want to give up on Yale."

  "I don't want to give up on everything. It's not just Yale. It's giving up school around here, too, it's giving up on debate, giving up on law..."

  "Yeah."

  "It's just hard. I was so ready, you know?"

  "So why did you have her?"

  Sarah sighed. "Honestly? I felt like I had to."

  "Why are you keeping her, then?" The question was gentle, not accusing.

  Because she has my eyes. Sarah looked at Tiff. "She's mine, Tiff. She needs me. I want to be there for her. I mean, Cal wants to give her up for adoption, but what if..." What if her new parents are like my mom, and she turns out to be gay? "It just feels like turning my back on her." She drew a shuddering breath. "Besides, I already promised her. I won't take it back."

  "You're gonna be a good mom," Tiff said. "You already are."

  Sarah shook her head. "I don't feel like it. I can't even afford this place. If I piss my mom off, I have nowhere to go. I can't go to school with Becca. I can't get a job. I can't afford daycare." She paused, suddenly reminded of debate. "My god. I'm like a real, live harms card."

  Tiff laughed. "A harms card on a Head Start case? Yeah, I can see it."

  "I was thinking Welfare. But Head Start works."

  "Welfare? No. Come on, Sarah, your mom's not gonna kick you out."

  If she knew how I really feel about you, she might.

  Tiff laughed again. "You remember those two guys running Head Start at the Eddington tournament? One of 'em had that really weird hair?"

  Sarah smiled despite herself. "Yeah. And you cross-examined him about his hair?" She shook her head. "We so should have lost that round. I never understood how you could always get away with that stuff. I could never get away with that."

  "And he was like" - Tiff dropped her voice an octave - "'I don't see what my hair has to do with Head Start.'" She guffawed.

 

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