Her eyes grow wider, her body returning to its tense state, but she stays silent for a couple of seconds, as if refusing to answer. Almost at a whisper, for only her and I to hear, she replies. “I don’t want to talk about it here,” she says, looking in Mark’s direction, as if he’s the reason she didn’t want to answer. I look back at Mark confused, wondering if she knows him. However, from seeing the same confusion on his face at seeing Kasey, I’m pretty sure they don’t know each other.
Looking back at her, I try again. “Why did you leave, Kasey?”
Her face turns stunned. “You left me first, if I recall. I waited for you, and you never came,” she utters.
“What do you mean I never came? I did go back and you were already gone.”
“I wrote to you, waiting for you to come to me and you never did,” she declares.
“Wait, I’m confused. When did you write?” I ask her, now more confused than before. Searching my mind, I know I never got any letters from her.
“Man, this is one interesting conversation.” Mark’s sarcastic tone rings out, making Kasey and I look in his direction. I shoot him with a glare and when his eyes go wide, I know I’ve made my point. He simply lifts his shoulder, a typical response from Mark.
“Look, I have to get back to my daughter,” she says, trying to tug her arm from my hand. I tighten my grip enough to hold onto her, refusing to let go.
“No, Kasey. I’m pretty sure we need to talk,” I repeat.
She shakes her head at me. “Not here,” she says again. .
“Then where? Because we are going to talk. I need to know why you left.”
“I didn’t have a choice, Joseph,” she insists, sounding bitter. “I was forced to leave.”
Taken aback by her answer, I keep trying to comprehend what she means. It isn’t what I was told when I went back looking for her. “I did go back, Kasey. Your parents told me you left for college out of state, but they wouldn’t tell me where,” I try explaining.
She snickers. “Of course they would say that,” she disappointingly grumbles.
“Then where did you go?” I ask her.
She looks in Mark’s direction, looking hesitant as to whether to reply, but finally looks back at me as she answers. “I had to leave because of what happened the night before you left. I was left with no choice,” she whispers, so only I can hear.
“You keep saying you didn’t have a choice, but you’re still not making any sense, Kasey. Why wouldn’t you have a choice?” I ask her, forcing myself to try and understand.
Her silence makes me think, it occurs to me, the realization hitting me like a ton of bricks as I remember back to that night. The fear has dropped into the pit of my stomach as I take in the only explanation that would force her to leave.
Looking back in the direction of where the little girl left, I ask, “How old is she, Kasey?” I force myself to ask around the shock taking over my body.
She looks hesitant to answer, but then does, “She turned four in March.” Her eyes grow glassy from the tears building up.
Taking in her answer, I quickly do the math in my head, confirming what I was thinking; Josephina is my daughter.
I feel Kasey try to yank her arm from my grip, but I continue holding onto her, refusing to let her go. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I growl at her, no longer being able to control the anger coursing inside of me. I want answers and I want them now.
She frantically looks around. “I already told you. I’m not talking about it here,” she says, as she finally manages to free her arm from my grip. She tries to walk around me, but I keep her planted to the spot when I lift my arm out to block her way.
“If not now, then when? Because whether you want to or not, Kasey, we are going to talk about this. I had a right to know.”
She looks in the direction of the street, taking her lip in between her teeth, nervously chewing on it for a moment before facing me once more. “See that park?” she says, pointing her chin in the direction across the street. I look to see a park. “I always take Josephina to it after I’ve packed up, usually around two. You can meet us there.”
Knowing I have no other choice by the look on her face, I simply nod my head in agreement, lowering my arm to let her walk away. I watch her stroll away without another word, blending into the small crowd until she steps into a tented booth.
“Care to explain who that was, or what just happened?” I hear Mark say at my side, breaking through the many scenarios traveling through my mind. I watch Kasey disappear into a tent as I answer, “That was the old neighbor from Savannah I told you about. And I’m pretty sure that little girl is my daughter,” I say in disbelief, still trying to absorb the shock of the situation.
My heart feels like it’s dropped into the pit of my stomach as I say it and it’s making me feel like shit. The problem is, I don’t know who’s to blame.
Mark only whistles before saying, “I sure hope Elizabeth likes kids.”
THE TIME FOR me to start packing up my items came faster than I wanted. Some days it seems like the day drags on. Others, like today, can go by faster than I wish them to go. Today was one of those days I felt like I wanted time to completely stop.
I wasn’t ready to face Joseph yet. I wasn’t prepared to explain Josephina to him anymore. That time had disappeared long ago when I had desperately waited for him to show up. Of course, I had just as many questions as he had for me, but my questions had long been pushed away. I’d faced the reality that I might never see him again, forcing myself to realize he would never come looking for me; choosing to believe he never wanted anything to do with us.
At least, that is what I told myself.
I had given up on Joseph. Given up the notion that he would show up like some knight in shining armor to rescue Josephina and I; it never happened
Forcing myself to return my focus on packing, I let out a sigh, wishing again that time would slow down. Normally I would want to hurry to put everything away, excited to finally be done with the day so I can take Josephina to the park, but today was the opposite because I know Joseph will be there waiting. At least, I think he will be.
Giving myself the excuse that I’m taking my time so I don’t misplace anything, I make sure everything is packed and ready to go for next week. I slow my pace a little, only because I’m dreading seeing Joseph again.
Even as I keep packing, I keep wondering to myself… What is he doing here? Was he purposely looking for us? Shaking the second thought from my mind, I have to tell myself that he wasn’t. If he had chosen to look for us, he would have done it a long time ago. He should have done it when Josephina and I really needed him, when I had begged him to come to us.
“Mommy, hurry. You’re taking too long,” Josephina whines up at me as she tugs on the hem of my shirt. “I really want to go play now.”
Sighing, I know that I’ve already made her wait longer than I should, so I quickly start to pack the last of the items into the container in front of me. Taking the box back to my small SUV, I lock it up and grab a hold of Josephina’s tiny hand, leading her straight towards the park.
I’ve been bringing her to this park since she was a toddler; when I first started selling my soaps at the local Farmers Market. I didn’t have a choice but to bring her with me every Saturday. I didn’t know anyone at that time being that it was only Josephina and I back then. I moved to Madison in hopes of providing a better future for the both of us.
The closer we get to the park, the more my stomach is beginning to turn. The nerves are starting to build up with every step I take, knowing Joseph will be there waiting for us.
The sight of him sitting at a picnic table, his head hung low facing the ground and his elbows resting on his knees, tugs at my heart. I can see the stress rolling off him as he runs one hand back and forth across his nearly bald head. That was the first change I noticed about Joseph. Growing up he always had a full head of hair. Now he had it cut so short all over, it practically looked lik
e he was bald. It made him look more masculine, instead of the young boy I remembered.
Even with the distance between us, I can tell he’s concentrating hard, making his body look tense and worried. Seeing him like that, knowing the reason why, hurts me just as badly. I never meant for him to find out this way, but I never thought he’d come back into our lives.
Josephina sees him, excitedly shouting, “Look mommy, it’s your friend,” before letting go of my hand and bolting straight for Joseph.
He must have heard her because his head snaps up and when he spots her running towards him, his face lights up, smiling. It’s the kind of smile that could light up a dark cloudy day.
Walking faster to catch up to them, I can already hear Josephina asking the many questions that I knew she would; her curious little mind always wanting answers. She had begun asking me questions when we returned to my booth, but I kept telling her I couldn’t answer them at the moment, earning me a very disappointed scowl. She knew I was purposely avoiding her questions.
It isn’t that I didn’t want her to know the truth; I just didn’t know how to tell her. Up until now she’s been told she didn’t have a dad, like every other child does, because she was special. I know it wasn’t the answer she deserved, but it was the only answer that I could ever give her. I didn’t know what had happened with Joseph. Even now, I still don’t know. And I accepted that.
The first question I hear come from her mouth is, “How do you know my mommy?” The moment she finishes saying it, I grow worried about his answer; leaving me fixed to the spot I’m standing in, hoping that he doesn’t say more than necessary.
“Your mommy used to live next door to me when we were little,” he answers, his voice sounding soft and gentle as he speaks to her.
Josephina’s eyes light up. “You grew up on a farm too?” she says, the excitement clear in her voice as she asks the question, surprising Joseph.
Josephina has never known the truth of where I really grew up. The only place she knew of was the place she was born, which happens to be a farm. So of course it would be the place she would envision that I grew up as well. Knowing I need to stop her curiosity before Joseph can reveal the truth, I say, “Josephina, I don’t think it’s very polite to bombard Joseph with questions.”
She’s about to say something, but I purse my lips and narrow my eyes straight at her in a warning not to challenge me. She stays quiet for a couple of seconds before asking, “Mommy, can I go play now?”
“Yes, sweetheart, but you know the rules. Stay where you can always see me, okay?” I remind her.
She smiles as she nods her head and runs off towards the play area without looking back, too excited to play. Smiling to myself, I watch her start to climb the jungle gym. When I know she’s safely playing, I quickly avert my eyes back to Joseph, remembering that he’s still there.
I see him intensely watching her. His stare focused straight at her as she moves around with the other children. He doesn’t take his eyes off her at all; the admiration on his face is astonishing.
Standing there, I wait for him to face me. When he does, I explain her earlier comment, trying to clear his confusion. “Sorry, Josephina thinks I grew up on a farm my whole life. It’s the only thing she knows about me,” I tell him.
Joseph’s somber face is staring back at me. “I don’t know what to say to you, Kasey. I’m so angry right now, but at the same time, I’m more hurt and confused than anything else. In my head I keep repeating what you said earlier, without being able to understand a word of it. What do you mean you were forced to leave, when I was told that you chose to leave? It’s as if you were trying to punish me by not telling me I had a daughter, or that you were even pregnant. Was that your intention the whole time?”
“You think that I chose to keep her from you?”
“What other explanation can there be, Kasey? I came back after boot camp and you were already gone. I came back looking for you. Your parents told me you left for college out of state. So the way I see it, you had already made your decision by leaving. You made the decision to keep her from me,” he says, his voice laced with anger.
Just as mad, I take a deep breath to try to calm myself before I respond. “I didn’t choose to leave, Joseph. My parents forced me to when they found out I was pregnant. I didn’t have a choice,” I tell him, my mind going back to the awful memory of when my parents confronted me.
It happened one night as I came home from work. That day I had worked a double shift when someone had called in sick. I didn’t want to at first, but I wanted the extra money, so I stayed. Later regretting it as the day grew and I began to feel sicker.
“Kasey, your father and I would like to speak to you,” I hear my mother say as I walk into the house from work.
Quickly closing my eyes, I take a deep breath to help fight off the nauseating feeling that has been following me around all day. I don’t know what is going on with me lately. I think I might be getting sick, or have the same flu as the other girl at work, because I feel like throwing up again.
Walking in the direction of the kitchen, I see my father walk in from the back porch. Both of my parents look angry. The panic inside of me rising as I walk my way towards them. Did they find out I had Joseph over the weekend they were gone?
Apprehensively, I take a seat in one of the chairs at our dining room table, my father taking a seat across from me. My mother stops her pacing before she begins speaking.
“Young lady, is there something you’d like to tell us?” she asks, the infuriation in her tone further worrying me as she stares into my eyes, waiting for my answer; an answer I can’t give her. I shake my head at her, still trying to fight off the nausea that is rising in the pit of my stomach.
Rapidly walking straight up to me, she slaps me on the face. “Don’t lie to me!” she shouts.
Bringing my hand up to my stinging face, I look over at my father and his face is expressionless. “Look at me,” my mother growls, as she tightly grasps my chin in her hand forcing me to look at her.
“Tell us who the father is!” she shouts down at me, making me wince both from the pain of her gasp and tone she’s using.
I’m confused and full of fear now as I sit there, my face still burning. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I frightfully say to her, which is the truth.
She shoves my face away. “You can’t pull off that innocent act anymore, Kasey. You thought we wouldn’t notice you being pregnant? All you’ve been doing is throwing up every morning, sleeping at all hours of the day, and when you aren’t throwing up, you’re eating everything in sight. I’ve noticed you haven’t had your period recently. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?”
Taking in her last sentence, I realize she’s right. I haven’t had my period, but I’ve neglected to notice because of how sick I’ve been feeling. It never occurred to me that I could be pregnant.
“So I’m going to ask you again. Who. Is. The. Father?” she growls.
I don’t know what to say. I’m too scared to tell her anything in fear of the consequence.
“I don’t know,” I rapidly whisper to her, swallowing the pit of fear from her reaction.
I see her hand come at me, and I don’t fight her as she slaps me again. “You slut!”
“That’s enough, Caroline,” my father demands, his voice low, but stern. “Kasey, we’ve decided to send you to my sister’s farm up in Wisconsin. We’ve already bought you a bus ticket. That is, unless the father of the baby takes responsibility for you and takes you in. But regardless, you’re not staying under this roof. We don’t condone sinners is this house. So, we’ll give you one last chance to speak up about who the father is,” he grimly discloses.
I close my eyes and wonder whether I should speak up about Joseph being the father. Even if I did tell them, would they believe me? He isn’t here anymore to stand by my side as I tell them. What am I supposed to do? I sit there silent for a couple of seconds, finally shaking my h
ead to answer. The guilt drops to the pit of my stomach knowing that I am lying to them.
“Then it’s done. You’re going up north with your aunt. Remember that this is your mistake, Kasey, so you now have to live with the consequences.”
Joseph’s voice jolts me from my memory. “Why didn’t you go to my parents for help?”
“I wanted to, but I couldn’t. I was too scared of what they’d think of me, or that they wouldn’t believe me,” I reply, remembering my thoughts from just moments ago. “I didn’t know I was pregnant, but my mother noticed right away. She knew before I did, because I was so sick all the time and all I wanted to do was sleep when I wasn’t working.”
His brow furrows as he asks, “You said you tried writing to me, when?”
“Several times, actually. The first letter I left in your parent’s mailbox the night before I was scheduled to leave, hoping they’d get it to you somehow. I didn’t leave any details, only that I was moving up here to Wisconsin with my aunt. Then again when I was seven months pregnant, knowing you’d be done with boot camp, hoping it would get to you in time before I delivered. I waited everyday, up until the day I delivered for you to show up, but you never came. The last time I wrote to you was right after Josephina was born. To notify you about Josephina, but it came back a couple months later stamped: return to sender. I pretty much gave up after that.”
I didn’t cry the day my parents confronted me. I couldn’t. The fear had taken over. It wasn’t until the day I received the returned letter that the tears came. Until then I had stayed strong, waiting for him to rescue me, waiting for my knight in shining armor. Instead, that day I learned Joseph was never coming for us, and there was nothing I could do but move forward with my baby.
I don’t know if it’s the pain of remembering everything, or knowing that Joseph never knew. Regardless, it’s all caught up to me, and the tears are uncontrollably falling down my face. They keep coming like a broken dam.
With Me Page 3