Unclaimed (Kole Family)

by S. Brent

  “What little boy doesn’t care about his father?” I asked. My head was hurting even worse now. I could feel my heart beat behind my eyes. I knew my vein at my temple was ticking.

  She finally looked over at me and shrugged. She doesn’t have an answer to that.

  “I gotta go,” I said and stood up. I needed to get out of here before I said something I’d regret. If I learned anything from my fight with Pru last night is that I shouldn’t stand here and say things in anger and I was fucking angry.

  I was angry with my mother for not telling me all this and keeping my father from me, for letting me believe that he didn’t want me all these years. I was angry that he didn’t try and fight for me. That he just let me go.

  I hated the world.

  It wasn’t that my father never wanted me it was that my mother didn’t want to expose me to him. She did what she thought was best but damn, if I don’t want to yell at her for all the years of hurt and anger and resentment I felt towards that man. It was still there but some of it is now directed at my mother. I hated that.

  “Lincoln,” my mother called out behind me as I started to head towards the door. “I did what I thought was best.” I could hear the brokenness in her voice. I knew she was crying. I couldn’t deal with it. Apparently I was making every woman in my life cry. “Please don’t think he doesn’t care because he does he was just respecting my wishes.”

  I hesitated for only a moment. I didn’t know what to do with this so I just kept walking. I had to get out of here, away from her. I needed air. I wanted Pru but wait I didn’t have Pru. I pushed her away.

  “Lincoln. I love you. Please, don’t be mad,” she called out as I push the door open.

  I didn’t turn around and look at her. I just couldn’t. “I love you too mom,” I said before I stepped out the door and headed out into the warm heat. I had to get away from her. I needed to be alone. I needed more tequila.

  Prudence

  Two weeks. It had been two weeks since Lincoln and I had that terrible fight and broke up. Two, very long depressing weeks. The most miserable two weeks I had ever endured.

  I cried for days. Who had thought that I could be so invested in a two-month relationship that started with a one-night stand but I was. I told him I loved him and I did. I do. I meant every word of it and he broke my heart. I felt like he completely destroyed me. For what? I wasn’t not sure. I truly believed he loved me but he ended us, deserted me.

  He hasn’t called. I was sure he’d call when I left his house. I never thought he would give up on us that easily but he hasn’t called but then neither have I. We both said some very hurtful things, most of them were true and I don’t know if we will ever be able to move past them and it was looking very unlikely since neither of us had made an effort to contact the other. I didn’t want to consider what that meant.

  I’d considered it multiple times. I’d been only a step away, all I had to do was press send but I always stopped at the last minute. He broke up with me. He had to be the one to call. This was his choice not mine.

  Skyla hadn’t said anything about him and I was grateful. I didn’t want to hear how well he was doing. It would crush me. If she told me he was just as miserable as I was I don’t know what I’d do. Breakdown and call. I don’t know. Maybe I should ask her.

  We hadn’t been together long but it felt like an eternity. The days dragged on and I somehow force myself to go on. The love of my life left me because of my parents. I hated them even more for it. I used to want them to be part of my life and now I just want them to stay as far away as possible. They ruin everything. They did their absolute best to destroy everything I held dear.

  I haven’t talked to them since the dinner. My father called, my actual dad not his secretary, to talk about transferring to Davis or Stanford so that I could pursue medicine but I haven’t answered once. Although, I did listen to the voicemails. I wanted nothing to do with them. I may forgive them someday but not now, not anytime soon. They did this on purpose. I knew it. This was what they wanted, although they’d never admit it.

  I graduated from college. My parents didn’t bother to show up. It was just icing on my depressing cake. They didn’t even call. I don’t mean anything to Lincoln and I don’t mean anything to them. It hurt. My chest ached from the pain of my heart breaking over and over again.

  I tried not to think about it but unfortunately I can’t seem not to. My parents were easy to push to the side. I have been pretending they don’t exist for years. Lincoln was harder. I kept telling myself it will get easier the wound was just too fresh but right now that seemed a long way off. Everything reminded me of him, my room, the bathroom, the tattoo up my side, toothpaste, everything.

  Maggie and Skyla came to my graduation. I loved them. I always will. They have been a Godsend, dealing with the depressing, hysterical mess that I am. But at least I have stopped crying at the drop of hat in front of everyone. I kept my tears to myself for the most part now.

  Here I was. 21. College grad, alone, family-less.

  I felt like a zombie. I was just going through the motions doing my best not to completely lose myself in my depression. I’m on an emotional roller coaster, that only reaches varied points of depression. Depressed, devastated, miserable, sad, hysterical. I’ve been managing. Barely.

  All I wanted to do is sleep, curl up in the middle of my bed and sleep but my bed reminded me of Lincoln so I’ve been opting for the couch but then I couldn’t cry in peace. It was a lose, lose. So I traded off depending on how much of an audience I had and how much I can handle at the moment.

  At the moment it wasn’t much.

  I was sitting on the closed lid of the toilet staring at the stupid test in my hand I just peed on. The box said I had to wait two minutes but it didn’t take two minutes, it took seconds for a plus sign to appear in the empty box on the stupid test.

  Crap.

  I was pregnant.

  Pregnant with the baby of a man who broke up with me because of my parents the same day he told me he loved me and hasn’t called since. Fantastic.

  My life couldn’t get much worse. Well, I was sure it could, even though I wasn’t sure how.

  Maggie had been rambling about the crappiness of periods when it dawned on me. I haven’t had a period since before I started dating Lincoln. How had I missed that? We were careful, except for that first time when we had been extremely drunk and apparently really stupid.

  I hadn’t had much of an appetite and what I did eat didn’t seem to settle but I managed to keep it down except in the mornings. I woke up every morning puking what little I managed to eat the day before. I’d blown it off as a severe depression but once I realized that my monthly friend hadn’t visited in months. I realized that I was probably pregnant and suffering from morning sickness.

  What was I going to do?

  I wasn’t sobbing. I didn’t think I had it in me but I could feel the tears streaming down my cheeks silently as I sat here and stared at the stupid test. The stupid test that just unceremoniously changed my life forever.

  I didn’t know how long I sat in the bathroom just staring at the test but I finally managed to get up and walk out of the bathroom.

  I needed someone. I wanted Lincoln. My first instinct was to flee to my car, speed down to Dirty Ink, dive into his arms and let him hold me and comfort me. But that wasn’t an option. He didn’t want me.

  Skyla wasn’t an option either. She was Lincoln’s sister. She had conflicting interest, plus she wasn’t home.

  Maggie. I needed Maggie. I walked over to her room and knock on the door. If she wasn’t home I didn’t know what I would have done but thankfully she was. The door flew open after my second knock revealing Maggie in her thong and tight t-shirt. I saw a freakishly long body sprawled out on her bed under the sheets.

  She scanned me over and her expression grew weary. I must have looked a mess. I felt like one. I had streaks on my face from my tears. My hair was up in a messy knot. I hadn
’t even bothered to brush it. My dress was probably wrinkled beyond wrinkles and I was barefoot.

  “I’ll come back since you’re busy,” I mumbled and started to turn away. I was going to go sit in my bed and cry alone. I’d deal with this tomorrow. Right now I was going to cry until I passed out. I didn’t figure it would take to long.

  “No, we’re good,” she said to me grabbing for my arm, stopping my retreat. “Get out,” she ordered over her shoulder and I heard a man start to complain.

  “Come on, Maggie,” he whined. I recognized his voice. It was Miguel, her on again, off again boyfriend, bass player in the band Spunk.

  “I said out,” she yelled. Maggie wasn’t known for her patience.

  I saw his bare ass leap out of bed mumbling under his breath as he grabbed his jeans and yanked them on. He snatched up his t-shirt and walked over to where Maggie and I stood. Her, basically naked leaning on the door. Me, a numb mess, moments away from a full on panic attack. She was watching me like I might break at any moment. I felt like I was.

  “What am I supposed to do with this?” he asked as he looked down at his pants where he was clearly still aroused.

  “Take care of it,” she said like he was stupid and shoved him toward the door. “You have a hand. Idiot,” she mumbled as he walked off shaking his head.

  “Let me get some pants,” Maggie said. She grabbed a pair of yoga pants off the floor and quickly slid them on before sliding into flip-flops. “What’s wrong?” she asked while she dressed.

  I held up the test. Her eyes got large. No words were needed. It was clear I was pregnant otherwise I wouldn’t be holding up the stupid test. No one cries over a negative pregnancy test, at least not someone in my situation.

  “Sweet baby Jesus,” Maggie says in a quick rush under her breath.

  “I know,” is all I could get out as the tears started to really flow now. They weren’t the previous noiseless flow I had in the bathroom. I was gasping for breath and Maggie wrapped her arms around me and helped me as I crumbled to the floor in the hall while she held me and just let me sob.

  Somewhere in the middle of my break down Skyla came in and joined us on the floor running her fingers through my hair. Maggie showed her the test. They both held me until I was calmer saying comforting soothing things that I didn’t really hear.

  They help me up once I was somewhat put together. “You need Fun Street,” Maggie declared and started dragging me out of the apartment. Skyla was right behind us. Thankfully she grabbed me a pair of shoes on the way out the door.

  Twenty minutes later we were sitting on an abandon bench in the park that overlooked Fun Street. It’s not actually called Fun Street. It’s what we’ve renamed it because we always see the funniest things on this road. There was a fresh loaf of French bread between us and a container of dill dip with three fresh coffees.

  “Oh look at that,” Maggie said and she nodded in the direction of a stray teenager, “it’s teen Wolverine.” I looked over. It was. It really was. It was some teenager that looked like a younger version of Wolverine. We busted up laughing. “I want to go ask him if he has claws,” Maggie said as she made a slashing motion through the air.

  I needed this.

  “Please don’t,” Skyla begged as we continue to laugh because we knew that she would.

  “So….” Maggie started in. She thinks this is her opening to address the giant elephant in the room, well, park, because I’m smiling.

  “So…” I echoed back. My smile started to fade.

  “Look at that guy in his shorty, shorts,” Skyla pointed out a man running in daisy dukes. We all chuckled, my smile was back if only half-heartedly.

  “What are you going to do?” Maggie asked as she rips off a chunk of bread and dipped into the dip before shoving it into her mouth.

  I shrugged. “What choice do I have?” For me there was really no choice. I couldn’t have an abortion. I knew that long before I got pregnant. It was just not for me. I didn’t want to give up my child so that left only one option. “I’ll become a mother.”

  Skyla just shook her head with her eyes closed. I knew this was hard for her.

  I always assumed that I’d have kids someday this was just way sooner than planned. I also thought I’d be married with a house, maybe a white picket fence or something too.

  “A single mother?” Skyla asked. This was hitting a little too close to home for her. My chest ached. I may be in this alone. Lincoln left me. He wants nothing to do with me. What about the baby?

  I nodded.

  “Are you going to tell him?” she asked as I shoved some bread in my mouth. Both Skyla and Maggie are remaining very calm on the outside for me and I was grateful but I knew they were both freaking out internally.

  “I have to,” I tell around my mouthful. I didn’t hesitate. I have known that I’m pregnant all of five seconds but I knew I had to tell him. He’d want to know especially with his family situation. I had to tell him. I had no idea how he was going to react though.

  Maggie just nods. So does Skyla. They understood. Neither of them would approve of me keeping it from him.

  “Don’t say anything,” I said to both of them. “I need to tell him.” They both agreed to it. Lincoln needed to hear from me that we are having a baby, not through the gossip chain. The last thing I wanted was for Skyla to run off and tell her bother that he knocked me up and for him to think I was keeping it from him.

  If things weren’t bad enough they just got worse.

  Here I was. 21. College grad, alone, family-less, pregnant.

  Chapter 15

  Prudence

  Two weeks. Two weeks of attempting to contact Lincoln with no luck. I called him all the time. I feel like some sort of crazy ex, like a stalker. He never answered and I always leave the same message. “Hi, Lincoln. It’s Pru. Please call me. It’s important.” I didn’t know what else to say. This isn’t exactly something you leave on someone’s voicemail. “Hey Lincoln, remember me, Pru. Well, you knocked me up. Give me a call when you get around to it.” Yeah, I don’t think so. So I keep calling and leaving the same message because I don’t know what else to say.

  I stopped by Dirty Ink twice both times he wasn’t in. Jonas told me he was at a tattoo show in Los Angeles, once and the other time Guy just told me he was out. I didn’t leave a message. I didn’t know what to say but they said they’d tell him I’d stopped by.

  So here I was two weeks later, desperate to get a hold of him. I had to tell him. He deserved to know. He’d want to know, especially because of his father. Even if he didn’t want to be involved I couldn’t keep it from him. If he found out I kept this from him he’d never forgive me.

  I had gone to the doctor and dragged Maggie along. The doctor confirmed that I was officially pregnant. Maggie’d been a lifesaver. I cried on her shoulder more than once in the past month. She was always there for me.

  So I was officially pregnant, due December 14.

  I had to contact Lincoln. I had to tell him.

  I was standing at the front door of his house. This was my last resort. I had to tell him. If he was going to be a stubborn ass and refuse to call me back then I had to hunt him down. I knocked on the front door of his house. I really didn’t want to be here but what choice did I have?

  It took a few seconds but the door finally opened and the sight that greeted me made my chest hurt. It was Betty, Lincoln’s ex, standing there in nothing but a guy’s t-shirt. Nothing I could see anyway. Her hair was tussled like she had just woken up and she was rubbing her eyes. It was nearly noon.

  “Hi,” I said and she smirked at me. I wanted to slap her. She recognized me as well. Fabulous. We were not friends nor would we ever be. “Is Lincoln here?” I asked. I was doing my best to remain civil.

  “Why? He’s done with you,” she gloated. True, we were over and apparently he had bounced back to Betty. That hurt.

  I tried to tell myself that it didn’t matter. Lincoln was allowed to sleep with other
women. He was allowed to move on but no matter what I told myself it still hurt. I was here to tell him about his baby, not get him back, even though I wasn’t against that if it happened. Clearly that wasn’t even an option any more. He had moved on. Maybe he never really loved me after all.

  “Is he here?” I asked again. I wasn’t here for a confrontation with Betty, the super slut. I needed to talk to Lincoln no matter who shared his bed. It wasn’t my business anymore.

  She laughed at me. “No, but he’ll be home later. I’ll be sure to tell him that you stopped by,” she was clearly enjoying this. She won. She got the guy in the end.

  I was on the edge of tears. I knew it. I cried at a drop of a hat these days but Betty didn’t hang around to watch my water works or even let me respond. I don’t think I could have anyways. There was no way I was going to get any words around the lump in my throat. She saved me the embarrassment by slamming the door in my face.

  I didn’t bother to hold back my tears. There was no one here to see anyway. I just let them come, the sobs too. I was broken. If I held any hope of getting back together with Lincoln it was over now. He was done. He had clearly moved on, back to Betty. We were over. There was no turning back.

  I’d still try to tell him. I owed him that. I owed it to our baby. But there would be no more stopping by. I just couldn’t take it. I had to think of myself. I couldn’t handle seeing Betty open the door. Or God forbid see them together. I don’t know if I’d ever bounce back from that.

  I’d call, no more than once a day and that was where I was drawing the line. He needed to know but I could only take so much. I had met my limit.

  Lincoln