by K. Marie
Twenty-Nine
Garland endured watching the Disney movie “Tangled” with Autumn, while I prepared a dinner of vegetable lasagna and salad.
He tried convincing me to order take-out, but I insisted on cooking, and was now regretting my stubbornness. I had absolutely no appetite, and the aromas from cooking had my stomach churning with nausea. But the meal managed to get completed without a hitch.
“This is delicious,” Garland said after taking several bites of his lasagna.
I don’t claim to love cooking, but I did fancy myself a fairly good cook. “Thank you. Not that I’m bragging or anything, but I’ll have you know my cooking skills are legendary,” I told him with a smug smile.
Autumn giggled at Garland’s look of wide-eyed astonishment. “Forgive me, I must have missed you on the Food Network,” he said with a straight face.
“Ha-ha, joke all you want, but I’m as good as any of those show-offs,” I laughed.
“If this lasagna is anything to judge it by, I believe you,” he said with a wink.
“Are you not hungry?” Garland asked, eyeing my still full plate.
I’d been mostly pushing my food around with my fork. “No, my appetite isn’t that great I guess,” I answered.
“Huh,” he grunted, eyeballing me several unnerving seconds before returning his attention back to his food.
I shifted uncomfortably, wondering if my guilt was obvious. But thankfully, we managed to get through the remainder of dinner without comment on my lack of eating.
Afterward, Garland insisted on putting the dishes in the dishwasher while I got Autumn ready for bed. I honestly longed to join her, I was exhausted, and past ready for bed myself. I was also nervous to be alone with Garland.
After reading Autumn a story and kissing her goodnight, I returned to the family room to find Garland slouched on the sofa. He’d removed his shoes and looked quite at home. He looked up from his almost ever-present phone when I approached.
“Thank you for taking care of the dishes, I’ll bet you don’t do that very often,” I said, settling down next to him. “In hindsight, I probably should have taken a picture for the scrapbook,” I added teasingly.
“No, I don’t often do dishes. But then, you’ve got me doing quite a bit of things I don’t often do,” Garland told me.
I regarded him curiously. “How so?” I asked.
“Let’s just say you’re in a unique position, Camry,” he said cryptically.
I swallowed hard, wondering how fast he’d change his opinion if I tell him I’m pregnant.
“Yeah? And if I asked you to rub my feet?” I asked playfully.
“Then your wish is my command,” he declared.
No fool to pass up an opportunity, I reposition myself so that my back rested on the arm of the sofa, and my feet in his lap.
Garland grinned, then commenced to rubbing.
“How long do I have you for?” I asked.
“How long do you want me for?” he countered, pinning me with a laser-focused gaze.
I felt an instant jolt of unease, sensing his question was a loaded one.
My brain raced, trying to mentally navigate the land mine he’d just thrown in my path, but I decided to simply go with the truth. “I want you always,” I told him.
“Are you certain? Because I get the distinct impression you’ve been avoiding me,” he said in challenge.
“I-I haven’t been avoiding you,” I stammered awkwardly, knowing that that was exactly what I’d been doing. But how in the hell did he know that?
“Why would you say that? I questioned suspiciously.
Could I possibly be the world’s worst liar?
“Because you lied to me about last weekend,” Garland told me, proving I am.
I stared back at him in surprise, unable to utter a single word of defense. How could he possibly know that?
“How do you know whether or not I lied about last weekend?” I asked, finally remembering how to speak.
“Does it matter?” he countered, slapping my question aside. “What I find of more importance is the reason you lied.”
Trapped in my own web of lies, I eyed him uneasily, trying to figure out how best to respond. There was no way I could defend myself against his allegations, I did lie to him. I just couldn’t believe he’d known it the entire time. I was curious as hell to know how he knew, but I would only be incriminating myself by focusing on it.
“You’re right; I did lie to you about last weekend, and I’m sorry. I was still unwell and I didn’t want to worry you,” I lied.
Tell him! My conscience urged.
Why I continued lying to him, I didn’t know. It seemed ridiculous at this point, yet, I still hesitated.
“I worry more when you’re not being honest with me. Trust is a fleeting thing, and I can’t trust you if you lie to me,” Garland said in reprimand.
“If you’re ill, I want to know about it, period. So, I’ll ask you only once more for the truth,” he warned, tone uncompromising.
He obviously didn’t believe me. I couldn’t even lie about my lies convincingly.
I looked at Garland helplessly. He’d just given me an ultimatum, and I knew the next words to come out of my mouth would be the most important.
I had to tell him.
I’d already betrayed his trust, I couldn’t compound that by continuing to lie. So instead, I let the floodgates open. Lowering my face to my hands, I bawled my eyes out.
I had been containing my turmoil and worry past the breaking point.
“Hey, you’re worrying me, sweetheart, why are you crying?” Garland asked in a soothing voice, having moved close enough that his hand now caressed my back.
I only shook my head in despair, tears flowing unchecked.
“There’s nothing you can’t tell me,” he assured.
I knew I was probably freaking him out, but I was unable to stop it.
“Look at me, Camry,” Garland urged, attempting to coax me into being a grown-up.
I told myself to quit behaving like a baby; that I got myself into this mess and I had no right to be crying about it. But, it took me long minutes to comply. Finally gathering the courage, I lifted my head and looked Garland in the eye, as I told him what he didn’t want to hear.
“I’m pregnant.”
Garland visibly flinched, all but recoiling at my news, then he just sat there staring at me blankly; likely in shock.
There, I’d said it, now I sat here waiting for the fallout.
“Is it mine?” he asked, voice barely audible.
I shouldn’t be shocked by the question; I’d been recently engaged to another man, but it still managed to tear at me just a little.
“Yes,” I answered. “I went to my doctor last week as I told you I had, only, I didn’t have a stomach bug.”
I quickly explained about the antibiotics. “I’m so sorry, Garland, I had no idea,” I said miserably, on the verge of tears again.
But I gave a start when he let out a heated expletive; one that was definitely not of the English language. Garland got suddenly to his feet, his cool control seeming to have evaporated as he began to pace the floor.
“Jesus, Camry…” he muttered, squeezing his eyes shut and raking both hands through his hair in an agitated manner.
I sat frozen in place, watching in fascination, as Garland lost his shit as predicted.
I knew he wouldn’t be happy about the news; imagined he’d even be upset, but I didn’t visualize this scene. Garland was always so damn confident and controlled, presumably unflappable. But apparently, finding out your worst nightmare had come true could throw all of that out the window.
After about ninety bomb-ticking seconds of pacing, Garland finally came to a stop in front of me on the sofa. He stood regarding me as if I were a stranger. I swear, the man transformed right before my eyes; visibly pulled himself together, eyes went cold with resolve.
“Get rid of it, Camry,” he ordered, voice cool an
d detached.
I stared back at him stunned, feeling as if he’d just delivered a physical blow.
“I’m not fit to be a father. You see, I had a child once—as well as a wife, and they both died because of me. The thought of bringing another child into this world after so miserably failing the first one, is inconceivable…”
Thirty
“Are you sure you want to do this, Camry?” Marie asked on the other end of the phone, for what must have been the tenth time. We’d gone over this ad nauseam the past three days.
The days following my disaster with Garland passed in agony. The monumental burden of decision making weighed heavily on my mind every waking moment. But, in the end, I knew what I had to do.
“I’ll be first in line to scratch his fucking eyes out if I ever see him again, but you should at least talk to him before you go through with this. At this point, I don’t know whether to feel sorry for him, or suggest you get a restraining order,” Marie said of Garland.
“I have nothing to say to him,” I stubbornly maintained. As far as I’m concerned, there was nothing left to discuss, Garland made his feelings clear.
Marie let out a heavy sigh, clearly exasperated by what she viewed as me being unreasonable. “I give up, if you’re determined to go through with this, I can’t stop you. I’ll be there for you either way, but Cam, make sure you’re doing it for the right reasons, okay?” Marie said in concern.
I knew what she was driving at, but she was wrong, my decision had nothing to do with my anger at Garland. I had several good reasons to not be a single mother of two.
“I’m doing the right thing, Marie, the right thing for me,” I assured her.
“Then, I’ll see you Wednesday morning,” she said resignedly.
I lay curled up on the sofa minutes later, tears having dried up since last Wednesday, but still feeling every bit as devastated.
I kept asking myself, what did I expect? Things turned out exactly as I feared they would.
I was reluctant to tell Garland about the baby; couldn’t fully understand my own fear, but I do now. I feared his rejection. Not just his rejection of the baby, but also of me. It’s amazing how bad past experiences could subconsciously fuck with our heads. But as it turned out, my fear had been warranted.
Garland was no different than David.
He left that night; albeit reluctantly, when after my moment of shock, I’d screamed for him to get the hell out like a crazy woman.
I completely lost it.
I couldn’t believe the amount of agonizing pain I’d felt at his flat-out rejection. I knew Garland didn’t want children, but still, when the man you’re crazy in love with told you to abort the child you’re carrying, it was still shattering.
And though it didn’t make me feel any better about it, I now at least knew why he had such an abhorrence to fatherhood. The tragedy he’d suffered was incomprehensible. Though, I admit that in that moment, I’d been more concerned with my own pain.
Now though, I lie here with my heart aching for him, which pissed me off. My compassion for him and my own anger and heartache were at odds. On a rational level, I understood his strong reaction, but on an emotional level, I still felt stabbed through the heart.
I’m pregnant with his child, right now, in real-time; and he’d simply told me to get rid of it. He said it with no more inflection than if he’d told me to let a fly out of the house.
Garland let me down majorly. But, I also let myself down.
After dropping Autumn off at summer camp on Tuesday morning, I returned home to find Garland sitting on my doorstep.
I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, I’d declined all of his calls the past week, and hadn’t responded to any of his texts. I refused to open my door to him when he showed up the day following our fallout, and also the day after that. I’d also managed to avoid him over the weekend, by hiding out at Marie’s. But though his was the last face I wanted to see, I knew I couldn’t avoid him forever.
I eyed him with animosity as I approached, wondering how long he’d been here in Michigan, and why he wasn’t back in Miami enjoying his fucking life.
I also wondered how long he’d intended sitting there gathering dust on his thousand-dollar slacks.
“What do you want, Garland?” I asked resentfully, coming to a reluctant halt several feet away from him. I was unable to get to my front door without having to leap over his head.
He looked tired, like he hadn’t had any sleep, and I wasn’t at all sympathetic.
“May I come in?” he asked.
“No,” I answered bitterly, unable to temper it. Just standing here having to look at his face was tearing me apart.
How could I love someone who caused me so much pain?
“Please, Camry, I ask only that you give me a chance to make things right,” he said pleadingly.
“Make what right, Garland? This can’t be made right! I’m carrying a baby that you want nothing to do with, do you have any idea how that makes me feel?” I asked, trying my damnedest not to cry. I’d cried enough for him.
His eyes looked pained, regretful, as he stared at me in silence.
Garland obviously have his own set of issues, but this was like bad mojo for me. How could I have gotten it so wrong twice? How could I have chosen two men who’d turn their backs on their own child?
“But what did I expect, that you’d actually be a grown-up and take responsibility?” I asked angrily, lashing out to hurt him as much as he’d hurt me.
“Look Garland, all of this was a big mistake—us together, was probably a bad idea from start. I didn’t become pregnant on purpose, but you can consider yourself off the hook, I’ll be terminating the pregnancy tomorrow. So, you see, you can now go back to Miami burden-free,” I informed him, attempting to mask my pain with sarcasm.
I felt a physical ache inside my chest.
“Are you done?” Garland asked in a frosty voice, eyes blazing as he rose to his feet.
I took an instinctive step back when he descended the stairs, advancing towards me like an angry avenging angel.
“You don’t get to rid yourself of me that easily, and you don’t dismiss me, ever,” he said, piercing me with an icy glare.
It was as if someone had suddenly flipped a switch.
I stared at him dumbly, taken aback by his abrupt change in demeanor. Just two minutes ago he’d been contrite and pleading, seemingly docile and tame. But that was clearly an illusion.
“I was an asshole, I behaved like a moronic child and there is absolutely no excuse for that. I will support whatever decision you make, but despite what I said before, I would never coerce you into aborting our child,” Garland told me.
Surprised, I regarded him thoughtfully, absorbing his words—his complete about-face from his previous PTSD freak-out.
But his words were of little comfort now, it was too little too late. “It doesn’t matter, Garland,” I said sadly, “Me becoming pregnant was a disaster, for both of us. Terminating is the best decision,” I reasoned.
“It’s not the only option, Camry, you don’t have to do that. Come to Miami with me, I will support you, Autumn, and our child—you’ll never want for anything,” Garland told me.
I eyed him in dawning. It seemed whatever temporary lapse he’d suffered the night I told him I was pregnant, was now over. The real Garland stood before me now, the businessman. And I couldn’t decide what hurt more, the thought of bringing a child into this world that he didn’t want, or the fact that he’d just offered to “support” us as though we were just an obligation to him.
“No, thank you, I don’t want to be supported. Nor would I in good conscience bring a child into this world knowing its father resented it,” I bristled defensively.
“Don’t twist my words, you act as if I just offered you lodging and a child support check. And don’t be insulting, just because I don’t want children doesn’t dictate I would be resentful of ours,” he tossed back, having the audacity to
sound aggrieved.
“Yes, you’re pregnant with my child; and I have a responsibility as a father, but that isn’t the only reason I want you in Miami,” Garland said.
“You told me that my wanting to have a child with you would be a deal breaker, remember that conversation?” I reminded him.
“It’s an unplanned pregnancy, so whether I’d wanted children or not, seems a moot point after the fact,” he argued.
I snorted a humorless laugh. “So now you want the unwanted baby—the very one you so cavalierly told me to get rid of?” I asked incredulously, being deliberately mean. I hadn’t yet gotten over that sting.
But, my words served to silence him. And as I glimpsed the brief flash of remorse in his eyes, I no longer felt so proud of myself.
Garland considered me quietly, troubled eyes full of regret, and I immediately wanted to kick myself for feeling a tug of compassion for him. I remembered that he’d previously lost a child.
“I’m sorry, Camry. If you don’t believe anything else I say to you, believe that,” he said with sincerity.
I believed him. I knew that he was sorry for the way he’d handled things before, and for hurting me. He’d apologized in all of his texts and voicemails. I didn’t doubt his regret nor his sincerity, but it doesn’t change anything. Despite his words, I was still pregnant with a child he didn’t want.
“I believe you, Garland, but the fact remains the same. This baby is a reality you don’t want, and you won’t be doing it any favors by being its father under duress.” I told him.
“Are you terminating the pregnancy for me or for yourself? Because you can’t assume to know what I want,” he said coolly.
“Can’t I?” I challenged.
“No, you can’t, because I just had six hellish days in which to reflect on what I do or do not want. Keep the baby, Camry, marry me, come to Miami,” he told me.
Marry him? He can’t be serious. “So, now you want an unwanted baby and an unwanted wife?” I asked in disbelief.
There was no way in hell that was happening.