by Johi Jenkins
“Is that a question or a statement?”
“Tommy’s quite fond of you. I can’t change that. I can only assume that you’ve allowed this to become public. That’s harmful to the family.”
“You assume incorrectly. You four are the first to know other than me,” she says with more than just a hint of disdain. After she says it she remembers her mother, but doesn’t rectify to Mr. Gallager, as her mother hardly counts. How sad that she forgot that conversation so quickly. “You think I’m somehow happy about this? That I would run and tell the entire town?”
“I didn’t mean to make assumptions,” he says. It sounds like an apology, but the man isn’t apologizing. “I appreciate your discretion. The way this town goes on… it could be harmful to the family. I’m ready to do whatever it takes to prevent that from happening.”
“Do you think you have the power to make me disappear?”
He smiles with certainty, but hints that he is open to alternatives. “Some secrets are best hidden in the light.”
“It won’t take nine months for this secret to be obvious.”
“You may not have been born in a desirable family, but your strong physique may make you a worthy specimen to carry our name. In fact, replacing your father’s name would probably be an incentive to you.”
Margarette almost laughs. The nerve of this man! “Is it that hard to tell that I hate this? Why would I want to do any of that?”
“I partially agree. You may hate your situation, but when a young woman at a social disadvantage says she intends to deny me… well, that runs contrary to my experience. At bare minimum, at least your child deserves better. Something better than what you have? You might feel different about it if you start to give the idea a chance. Soon after you will be convinced.”
“I generally try to avoid making choices that limit my options. Not one person in your family is happy.”
“I am.”
“Then you must be the most selfish one of them all,” she says, testing him.
“Perhaps.”
“And yet you don’t fix it?”
“I’m all but consumed by my work. This town needs people like me to fix what’s broken here. Growth comes through pain, sacrifice and hard work. As such I judiciously expend a great deal of effort, and also neglect.”
“And you’re the happy one?” Margarette raises an eyebrow.
“I enjoy the power of influence. I have everything my father worked for and the ability to continue the family name. I have a family that depends on me. That is who I am, that is who we are, and that is what makes me happy.”
“What’s the value of your family when it hates you?”
He makes a sound almost like a scoff. “This isn’t about popularity. They will always follow me, no matter what you may think they feel.”
“What I think? I thought you were smart.”
“I thought you were a harlot.”
“I’m done with you.” She stands up and starts to turn around to leave.
“Suppose I want my grandchild to be born,” he calls, making her pause.
“What you want makes no difference to me.”
“Please sit down.”
Margarette looks at him defiantly.
“Please,” he repeats, almost pleading. “I need to tell you something.”
She returns to her previous seat.
“I don’t think that you are aware of May’s limitations,” he says, “but she was probably more hurt by your comment than you realize. She hasn’t been able to conceive for years, despite expensive fertility treatments.”
Interesting, Margarette thinks. The fact that the father would tell Margarette that very personal information makes her feel almost sorry for May. Almost.
She just stares at Mr. Gallager, choosing not to say anything about what he just revealed.
“So you see, a healthy child of Tommy’s, therefore, is of my utmost interest,” he continues. “We would give that child the opportunity that you cannot provide. My family can take care of him.”
Him? The son of a bitch already imagines a little heir.
She crosses her arms. “I can take care of my own child without your assistance.”
“Who’s being selfish now?”
“You don’t own me. You can own the town, but not me or my child.”
“I hoped you would be smart enough to see the opportunity that I’m offering. You need to understand how your life would be if you fail to accept this gift.”
“Gifts come with strings.”
He chuckles. “You are smart. When can you start?”
“Start what?”
“Come work for me, at the bank.”
“What?”
“You can see Tommy every day if you want. We can say you two are together. Before you start to show we can have you both plan to get married quickly. Half the people in the town can’t count months. Who knows when you two got engaged?”
“That’s insane.”
Mr. Gallager’s tone becomes serious. “Maybe it is. But the greater risk is on you. Your mother spent almost every dollar her mother left her. Did you know that? Of course you did. You probably see the mail more than she does. The power’s been cut off a few times. She doesn’t work. How do you expect to raise a child on your own?”
“I’d ask how you found that out, but that would only make you feel more important. I can take away your influence in an instant by leaving.”
“You could, but… you’re much smarter than that. Who would you really be hurting?”
After a guilty self-reflection and reluctant pause to admit it, she sadly thinks, Me and my baby.
She nods.
“I can promise you many things, but most important of all I can offer stability. Stability that you will very much crave if you go your own way. But it depends greatly on how well you play along.”
“What happens when you have what you want?”
“Planning is a valuable skill. Who knows, by then I might need you to stick around to keep Tommy in line.”
“Don’t count on it.”
“Don’t worry about that dear, my expectations are already low.”
“You don’t even know how I feel about Tommy.”
“I don’t think I need to. I’m convinced this could work.” Mr. Gallager pulls open a drawer and removes a card, which he hands to Margarette. She takes it reluctantly. “Here’s a card for our family’s doctor. Dr. Johnny is a personal friend of mine, and he will be the starting point to this agreement. See him promptly tomorrow morning.”
A “Dr. Johnny” in a small town could only mean one doctor. Alice’s father Dr. Walker is apparently now expected to meet with Margarette in the forthcoming day.
“I’m not sure you can ID the father at this stage. That’s what you want, isn’t it?” She eyes the card with distaste.
“He will be thorough,” he says dismissively. “But don’t hold it against me, dear. This child will be proven as a Gallager before any of this sees the light of day.”
“There are many things that I am uncertain of, but not that.” She stands up again, and he does as well.
“Take care of yourself, Miss….” He pauses as if he has forgotten her name. “Margarette,” he rolls his tongue and finishes with a smile as he stares deep into her eyes.
She walks out and her knees buckle in the hallway. Her throat is dry and she feels like she has just sold her unborn child into a life of servitude. She looks down and finds Tommy staring up at her from the bottom of the stairs; his face bears no expression. While she was afraid earlier of his reaction when he found out, now his lack of reaction annoys her. She is disappointed in him for not standing up for her. He was on par with her life, though. Life is constantly letting her down.
Behind her a voice echoes off the study walls. For a moment it almost sounds southern. “Tommy, get in here,” calls his father.
Tommy slowly ascends the stairs to the second floor. His eyes are on her the entire time, and they t
ell her how frightened he is; of the news, of his father waiting in the study. With a pained glance, he passes Margarette and enters the study, closing the door behind him.
Nobody told Margarette where to wait, so she moves to the next room, which looks exactly like the living room. Or sitting room. Who knows what terms these rich people use to label a place with chairs. She sits down and after a minute feels eyes on her, and looks up.
May leans against the wide doorway, watching Margarette like a cat ready to pounce on a mouse.
“You all done here?” May asks.
As coy as she can make it sound, Margarette answers, “Sure am.”
“I’m glad Tommy dropped by before your little date. Perhaps you can come back next week with a new surprise.”
Margarette chooses to ignore the girl, but the girl does not wish to be ignored.
“So you finally got what you wanted?” May asks.
“I never wanted this.” She thinks of a million things to say, but says none.
“What, you never wanted to ruin Tommy’s life? The fact that you didn’t want it doesn’t change a thing.”
“What if I ran away? Would that make things better?”
“Give up your lotto ticket? I don’t think so.”
“I don’t want to be with Tommy. He’s not my type.”
It’s true. She doesn’t like how forward he is with her. He treats her with intimacy, as if they had been going out for years, yet they barely know each other.
“Why don’t you want to be with Tommy? What, are you a lesbian?” May smiles thinking she finally got to her.
“No. But I’m sure Tommy wouldn’t mind if I was.”
“Harlot,” May mutters, making a disgusted face. Then she walks away.
Deciding that the living room is not safe, and afraid of encountering Mrs. Gallager, Margarette retreats through the dark checkered kitchen. She freezes in front of the back door, afraid to touch it, hoping it would open on its own and let her escape. But the door does not open. Her thoughts and fears cause a paralysis in her decision-making. She just slumps down on the last stool in the kitchen and starts to cry.
Chapter 13. Stuck
A week later Tommy and Margarette sit under the stars. Margarette had seen the doctor on a Monday, and by that Thursday they knew for sure. She had seen Tommy every day, and spent most evenings with him.
That Sunday there is an eclipse, and Margarette’s house is empty as usual, so her small patio is a good quiet spot to watch the skies. The setting is almost perfect except for the blood-sucking mosquitoes. An old comforter and a few layers of blankets are spread out underneath them.
“You’re perfect,” Tommy says.
“My ears are too big,” Margarette replies.
“So you’re almost perfect and you can glide over the trees.” He pulls back her hair. “Let me see. Oh no. You’re an elf.”
“Am not,” she says, pulling her hair back over her ears.
His playful reaction seems to be genuine. It’s not at all what she had prepared herself for. He laughs. “I didn’t know I’ve been sleeping with a creature of the forest.”
“Shut up,” she says, shoving him, but laughs.
“I’m shutting right up.” He cradles her neck gently and kisses her. His lips are still new to her, and she enjoys how he moves them over hers. She kisses him back, and he leans into her until they are lying down on the blankets.
Tommy seduces her right there on the lawn. She recently discovered that sex with him could be truly enjoyable when done properly. Lying down, for starters, and not doing it out of spite were helpful changes. She likes it more each time and her sexual drive has considerably increased, possibly a side effect of being pregnant, or just a consequence of having sex.
In truth, she also enjoys his company, even if only to have someone to talk to. Still, underneath complex layers of reassurance and pleasure she is withdrawn, resigned to the idea of not really having any other choice.
After the spectacle with his family a week before, Tommy did take her out to graduation dinner, which at first was awkward because both were quiet and thoughtful, trying to read each other’s thoughts. It wasn’t until Margarette made a poor joke about never buying that brand of condoms again that Tommy revealed he was thinking the same thing and they finally started talking.
He had been plagued with the unpleasant thought that he could not be the father of her child because he had indeed used protection. This was despite the fact that Margarette had said back in his house that she had never had sex with anyone else, a fact that quietly pleased him. He would never admit this to her, but during the two weeks that she refused to talk to him he had pictured her with Luke Sharp’s kid brother, Paulie. They hung out sometimes, Tommy knew. And when Tommy had followed her to the drug store and seen her meet the kid there, he had burned with jealousy. Despite the sheer unlikelihood of Margarette going out with a guy like Paulie, Tommy had imagined them together, a dark thought that spawned from his desperation.
So with as much tact as he could manage, which in Tommy’s case meant he just flat out asked, he questioned if her relationship with Paulie was anything more than friendly. Her open denial and casual dismissal of the kid left little doubt in his mind that she was telling the truth and that she was indeed pregnant with Tommy’s child. And that he was the luckiest guy in the world.
His pleasure in the revelation transformed his previous silence into an animated professing of his feelings for her. She had been feeling down since the talk with Mr. Gallager, and Tommy’s enthusiasm was a welcome change. His words lifted her spirits and gave her hope that despite the awfulness of the situation at least the father of her child wanted her. His blue eyes shining with excitement combined with a cute stray lock of blond hair that had fallen over his forehead made him look truly beautiful.
So when he asked to come in once he drove her home after dinner, she agreed. She didn’t want to face her mother alone, and she realized she didn’t have to. Not anymore. He took her hand as they walked together up to the porch in the darkness, but she let go before going in with the excuse that she needed to look for her keys. As she looked down inside her purse, he approached her and without a warning took her face in his hands and kissed her.
The feeling of his soft lips moving serenely over hers blew her mind. She just stood there, unable to react, her heart beating furiously against her chest. After a few seconds his tongue parted her lips and the kiss deepened; then she started kissing him back. She trembled as the sweetness engulfed her.
They made out for a good minute or two before he pulled back an inch, his hands still on her face. “I wanted to do that for the longest time,” he whispered against her lips.
“You should have,” she blurted then, because she thoroughly enjoyed his kiss. But she chided herself internally for saying it. It was admitting too much.
Tommy smiled in the darkness and kissed her deeply again. This time she responded in earnest, even pressing her body against his. And to her dismay her eyes slowly filled with tears that she forced to contain, and she thanked the night for hiding them, as she considered the pang of enjoying her true first kiss after already being pregnant. Luckily Tommy didn’t notice her flushed face because he was too busy being happy.
When they finally went in, not only was her mother still awake, but she actually remembered her conversation with Margarette on the phone earlier that evening, much to Margarette’s surprise. The introductions were as awkward as expected, even while Tommy reiterated that he would take good care of Margarette and the child. Margarette’s mother cried but she didn’t shout, and then retreated into her bedroom.
With promises to pick her up the next day to take her to the doctor, Tommy left, but not before he hugged Margarette and whispered that everything would be alright. Hearing it from him made her feel a little hopeful. She went to bed glad that the really long, emotional day was finally over.
***
Mr. Gallager had asked her to start working i
n two weeks, so the following Monday, a week after seeing the doctor, Tommy takes Margarette shopping for work clothes. She will start the following week. She tells him that she doesn’t want him to spend too much money on her, but secretly likes it. If his family—his father—wants her to work for him, he should be paying for her work clothes, she rationalizes. And Tommy’s money is technically his father’s money, so she doesn’t feel so bad about it.
And Tommy did knock her up, she figures.
She is pretty happy with her reasoning. Tommy drops her off at her house after shopping and she waves him thanks from the porch as she opens the front door.
It is jarring at first and she stops at the sight.
Her mother is sitting by the open oven door at the stove, not moving.
She turns back to Tommy but she can already hear the departing hum of his engine as he drives away. She drops the two bags of clothes that she is carrying and rushes to the kitchen, throwing the door behind her to close it. She reaches for her mother’s back and pulls at the fabric of her shirt, tipping her sideways. Margarette smells the rotten gas escaping the pipe. Her hands are shaking as her mother falls limp to the floor; on her mother’s face is an escaping grin from an otherwise locked stare.
“Mother?”
Margarette pats her mother’s back and quivers as she starts to cry. Her mother’s arm is twisted behind her and Margarette can’t move it from under her weight. She shakes the sagging body before her, willing her mother to be alive. Her mother stirs, as if she had just been sleeping, and nothing else. Margarette closes the oven door and it slams shut.
“I don’t want to be me anymore,” her mother says, her smeared makeup making her look like a sad but frightening drunken clown. Margarette can smell the rectified spirit on her. “Can I be someone else?” she slurs as if reading from a list in her head. “I’m scared, I’m insecure, I’m ugly; my legs, thighs, face, eyes, lips, hair, arms, stomach… all I am is a mess of thoughts and feelings.”
“You can be whomever you want,” Margarette replies, swallowing back a sob.
“Don’t leave me, Margarette… I would die if you left.”