by S. Brent
Great.
“Actually, I’m not going to Stanford,” I informed everyone standing around my parents. Better just get this out now, instead of playing along and delaying it. I was no longer letting my parents control my life. I was living for me. For my baby.
“Excuse me?” my father said as he glared at me. His fake smile disappeared. The vein twitching at his temple like it always did when he was on the edge of losing his temper. We hadn’t spoken since the horrible dinner that resulted in Lincoln breaking up with me but I was sure he knew that.
“I said,” I repeated like he was asking because he hadn’t heard me with my fake pleasant smile on my face. “I’m not going to Stanford.”
“Yes you are,” my father growled at me. I knew I was treading on dangerous ground here. Not only was I going against his wishes I was doing it in front of an audience.
I set the champagne I had been holding, but not drinking, on a tray of a passing waiter.
“No Father, I finished school. I am going to be a teacher,” I explained. When had I become so bold? I heard a few people gasp at my outlandish announcement.
“My office now,” my father barked as he glared at me. Not only had I refused to do what he said I embarrassed him. I wasn’t sure which crime was worse.
He turned on his heels and headed for his office, my mother followed like a good little lap dog, grabbing another glass of champagne on her way. I followed as well.
Maybe I would be out of here quicker than I thought because he was going to have me kicked out.
Once we all reached his office he shut the door quietly and started to pace.
“What is this nonsense?” he asked with his hands clasped behind his back. My mother dropped into one the chairs and started enjoying her champagne. It had all her focus. She’d let my father deal with me. I sat on the edge of the other chair.
“I don’t want to be a doctor, never have. I’m done with school. I want to be a teacher. I’m good at it. I am going to be a teacher,” I pleaded.
“A teacher,” he gasped. “Why on earth would you want to do something so…common?” He was clearly disgusted with me and my chosen profession. Hadn’t we been through this?
“I like teaching. I’m good at it. I’m making a difference,” I tried to explain. My father looked thoroughly confused. He’d never get it. My mother was more concerned with her drink then our issues.
“I forbid you from doing this,” he declared his voice raising.
“I’m sorry, but I am. I’m sorry that you don’t get it. And I’m sorry that I’m just a huge disappointment but I will never be this person you want me to be. I will never be 5’10” or a doctor or marry a lawyer. I’m going to be a teacher. I’m sorry if that disappoints you.” Forget the fact that it made me happy.
“I forbid it. You are moving back home so we can get you back on track before you completely destroy your life,” he hollered. His face was bright red. The vein was pulsing steadily now. I briefly wondered if their guests could hear us outside of his office. This side of my father had never been directed at me but I guess I never openly defied him in the past either.
“I’m sorry. No,” I said as I headed towards the door. I said my peice. I refused to sit here and argue about it. We’d never see eye to eye. It was time we all came to terms with it.
“Don’t you dare walk out of that door, young lady,” he ordered.
I reached for the door handle. “If you would like to discuss this rationally you know where to find me or you can call me, not your secretary. I love you both but I just can’t do this anymore.” I took a deep breath. I had to get this last part out. “I’m pregnant.” I announced to a completely silent room. My mother dropped her now empty champagne glass on the plush carpet at her feet. “I’m keeping the baby.” With that I opened the door and closed it quietly behind me and headed for my car as the tears started to flow down my cheeks. A few guest stopped to stare at me, even tried to talk to me. I knew they just wanted some gossip but I ignored them. I had to get out of here.
I made it to my car before I really started to sob. I did it. I had to. I had to start living my life for me, just like Lincoln said but now I was completely alone, no Lincoln and no parents to lean on, not that they were any support anyway.
All I had left was my baby, Lincoln’s baby. I rubbed my hand over my belly. I had a little bump already. It would just be the two of us. I’d be okay with that. I had to be. I’d love my child like my parents never loved me. I’d be there for him or her like mine weren’t for me. I would accept him or her for who they were no matter what.
It was late, almost midnight and I was sitting on the balcony at the apartment trying to drown my woes in a pint of ice cream and a bag of cookies. It wasn’t working too well. I’d even resorted to using the cookies to scoop out the ice cream. I knew that all I was doing was eating crap that I was going to regret later but that didn’t stop me. I just kept shoveling it in.
Maggie tried to come out and talk to me but I told her I wanted to be alone. I did.
I had been sitting out here alone for hours. I was on my second pint of ice cream, third box of cookies. My tears had dried up, at least for now. The sliding door opened and then closed as someone stepped out. I didn’t even bother to look over at who ever had joined me. I didn’t care. I wanted them gone.
I expected for it to be Skyla or Maggie but Jonas dropped down in the empty chair next to me. The chair looked like it might collapse under his weight.
“Hey,” he said quietly as he took one of my cookies. I resisted the urge to snatch it from his hand.
“Hey,” I said back quietly and shoveled more cookies and ice cream into my mouth.
“When’s the baby due?” he asked. I looked over at him. How did he know? Had Skyla told him? He’d been spending a lot of time with her lately. I thought about lying for a moment and claiming I wasn’t pregnant but what was the point.
“Who told you?” I asked.
“No one. I recognize the signs and you’re getting a little belly there,” he said motioning to my stomach.
I just shrugged. “December.” Apparently everyone knew but Lincoln. Or maybe he did and didn’t care. That was a depressing thought. Jonas just nodded and we sat in silence while he ate a few more of my cookies.
“You still calling him?” he finally asked. I didn’t need him to clarify the him he was referring too.
“Yep,” was all I said. I didn’t want to talk about this right now, especially with Lincoln’s best friend.
“Good.”
“He’s still not answering though so I don’t know why I bother,” I snapped.
“Give him time. He’ll come around.”
“When before the baby’s born, in two years, within the next 18 sometime,” I snapped. I was suddenly pissed, not at Jonas exactly but at Lincoln and everyone for trying to comfort me and convince me he’d come around and this would all work out. Things did not always work out.
Why did Lincoln deserve time? Why should I have to deal with this on my own because he needed time to deal with his shit? He dumped me because my parents were mean to him. Oh poor Lincoln. His daddy didn’t love him enough.
Jonas sighed. “Look. He’s got a lot on his plate right now,” he said as he held his hands up like I was about to attack him. I might if he touched another one of my cookies.
“Yeah, me too,” I snapped.
Jonas rubbed his forehead. “I know,” he said. We were both quiet for a moment. “Look I just wanted to check in on you. He’s my best friend and he wouldn’t want you to be going through this alone. This is hard on him too.”
“Then maybe he should answer his damn phone.”
“Yeah. Well, if you need anything call me,” Jonas said as he stood up and started to walk back inside. “I’m sorry he’s being such an ass.” I didn’t bother to look at him as he left.
“Me too,” I said more to myself than him.
I was sick of trying to be understanding. My parent
s had been hard on Lincoln. So what? They were equally awful to me. They had been for my entire life. His dad didn’t talk to him. So what? Why was that an excuse for everything? Oh poor Lincoln wasn’t good enough for his own father. He had a wonderful and supportive mother at least. That was more than I had.
Well he was about to have the same relationship with his child because he was too stupid to answer a phone.
I was out of sympathy for him. I was done understanding. He had no one to blame but himself. I’d keep calling daily but not for him, for my baby but I refused to do anything more. I didn’t need him or my parents. I’d do this on my own.
Lincoln
I was moping again, well still. Apparently, I was excellent at it. It had been nearly two months and I was yet to move on from Pru. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I was so alone without her, so lost. No other woman appealed to me. I didn’t go out. I didn’t even try. Guy and a few of the other guys tried to drag me out thinking that if I got laid I could move on. I didn’t want to get laid. I didn’t want to go out so I didn’t. I stayed home and worked.
I was attempting to keep myself busy, distracted. I worked in the shop, went to every tattoo show possible. I threw myself into my work but nothing seemed to matter. Everything I did reminded me of Pru. I’d be working on a tattoo and all I could think of was what would Pru think of this piece? Would she like it? Would she think it was ridiculous? How would it look on her body?
Every girl that passed by I compared to Pru and I barely even saw them. Their eyes weren’t large like Pru’s. Their hair wasn’t long enough. Their skin not fair enough, not enough freckles, to tall, wasn’t wearing heels, smile was wrong, and so on and so on.
Pru was in everything I did, every thought that crossed my mine. I was so pathetic it wasn’t even funny.
Jonas had forced me to take a day off. I hated him for it but he was probably right I needed a break. It was probably more that the shop needed a break from me.
I was sitting on the couch sketching absently like I often did.
“Really, her again?” Jonas said as he plopped down next to me popping open a soda.
I looked down at what I had been drawing. Pru. This time it was a close up of Pru’s face, just one eye, her cheek sprinkled in freckles, and part of her lips with her hair falling around her perfect face. It seemed all I ever drew anymore was Pru. I had sketchbook after sketchbook of drawings of Pru. Pru close up. Pru smiling. Pru thoughtful. Pru standing. Pru as a fairy. Pru clothed and unclothed. Pru doing things that I probably shouldn’t be drawing. I kept those private. I didn’t want to share my naked Pru drawings with anyone, even if they were just drawings.
Clearly I had Pru stuck in my brain.
“Apparently,” I said under my breath to Jonas as I continued to sketch. Jonas just sat there and watched me. He seemed to be considering something.
My phone was sitting on the coffee table and it started to go off. I knew that ringer. It was Pru, again. She had been calling me every day for weeks now. She left a message every time. Messages that I both refused to listen to and couldn’t delete.
I stopped drawing and just stared at my phone. I watched as it vibrated along the table.
“You gonna get that?” Jonas asked watching my phone too.
“No,” I said and went back to my drawing when my phone stopped.
“Pru?” he asked.
“Yeah?” I said. I didn’t want to talk about it or her with anyone. It was too painful.
“Why aren’t you going to answer it?”
“What is there to say?”
He didn’t answer my question. “Does she still call every day?” he asked.
“Yep.” Which caused me as much dismay or joy. I hated that she called. It made it hard to get her out of my head but I looked forward to it. It gave me hope. Pru had not forgotten about me. I was pathetic.
“Did you ever think that maybe she calls for a reason?” he asked as he took a long gulp of his soda.
I shrugged in response.
I honestly hadn’t. I was both happy and angry that she called every day. Happy because she apparently wanted to talk to me and angry because it was making it harder and harder to just let her go. We were done, over. It was for the best but why had she been calling me.
My resolve to stay away from her was slowly fading. It was only a matter of time before I showed up on her doorstep, probably drunk, since I spent a great deal of my time that way. It numbed the pain at times and made it worse others. I’d probably beg her to take me back.
I wanted her back but she deserved better than me: a bastard son of rock star, a tattoo artist, a struggling business owner. Her parents were right what kind of future could I provide for her. She deserved a doctor or lawyer or something, not me. After we fought and broke up I knew it was for the best and despite how much it hurt I was determined to let her go. What was that saying if you love someone let them go. Well, I loved her, and I was letting her go. It was best for her. So why was she still calling me.
“Lincoln,” Jonas snapped apparently I had been lost in my own thoughts. “Maybe you should talk to her.”
“Why?” Jonas just shrugged looking uncomfortable. Jonas wasn’t very good at hiding things. He wasn’t good at secrets. Everything always showed right on his face. He was clearly hiding something. He looked uncomfortable and skittish. What did he know? What could he know?
“Look, if she calls every day maybe there is a reason. Pru isn’t Betty, some pathetic cling-on that refuses to move on. If she’s calling then there is a reason. Maybe if you talked to her then you could stop moping around here like a little baby. Maybe you’d both get some closure or who knows you could work things out,” Jonas said as he stood up. This wasn’t the first time Jonas had given me the same lecture. Each time was basically the same. Call her, try to make up, or move on.
“Mind your own business,” I growled as I went back to my drawing of Pru as she stared up at me. There would be no moving on for me. I’d love her until my last breath. I just hoped there was a better future out there for her. That’s why I was doing this. For her. I just hoped my sacrifice wasn’t in vain.
“I’m doing this for her,” I tried to explain.
“Ever think that it’s not what she wants?” Jonas asked as he left the room and I tossed my sketchpad across the room.
I hadn’t. I really hadn’t. Maybe I was just as bad as her parents, trying to make her decisions for her.
Chapter 17
Lincoln
“I hate the mall,” I told Jonas for the zillionth time since he drug me out of the house and all the way down to the Galleria in Roseville. “Just in case there was a question as to that fact.” I slammed the car door and stepped out.
“Don’t worry, I am well aware of the fact that you hate the mall. You have told me every five seconds since we left the damn house,” Jonas said as he slammed his door as well. Jonas was annoyed with me. Good. I didn’t want to be here. I was miserable, ergo everyone needed to be miserable with me.
Jonas drug me out of the house telling me I was turning into a workaholic hermit. I kind of was but it was all I could manage at the moment. I missed Pru. I was half a step away from curling up into a ball and completely giving up on the world. I am pathetic. I admit it.
Jonas needed to go all the way out to the Galleria because that was where he could get an appointment for his phone. Somehow he came to the conclusion that it was his job, as my best friend, to drag me on every errand he ran. Today’s mission, to get his phone fixed at the snobbiest, farthest mall possible.
“I hate you,” I grumbled as we started to make our way into the mall.
“Ahh…and I thought we were in love,” he teased.
We made our way inside and found the store where he was getting his phone fixed. Five minutes later his phone was fixed. I was still unclear what was wrong with it or if anything actually was.
“So you want to shop around?” Jonas asked as we headed out of the store a
nd into the greater mall area.
“No,” I said as three teenage girls walked by and giggled at us. I wanted to go home, to my pathetic existence and long for Pru. I wanted to go draw more pictures of her like the crazy person I was. I was pretty sure I was one step away from actually stalking her like a true crazy person.
Jonas patted me on the back. “Come on,” he said as he let out a defeated breath. “At least let me get you a coffee for dragging you all the way out here,” he said and started to head to the Starbucks in the outdoor promenade. I followed. Coffee would at least make the ride back better.
“I’m sure you can sulk just as well with a coffee as without,” I thought I heard Jonas mumble as we stepped into the coffee shop.
Standing at the counter was the most beautiful backside I’d ever scene. I knew that backside. Long, brown waves brushed the top of the most perfect little ass connected to lean, porcelain legs that ended in heels, all attached to a small frame. She was positively glowing.
Pru.
It was Pru, my lovely little fairy.
Standing at the counter ordering a coffee was Pru, the love of my life. The love of my life that I had let go. The woman that I missed dearly, that I was losing sleep over, that consumed my every waking thought and every unconscious dream. I loved her. I still did. Pru was it for me.
My chest tightened. I considered dashing back out the door before she noticed me and then she laughed at something that boy at the counter said. I wanted to pummel him. That was my laugh, meant for me only. I missed that laugh. I wanted to hold her and laugh with her. My chest tightened. Why had I broken things off with her? Why was I avoiding her many calls?
I couldn’t flee or attack the cashier because I was stuck, unable to move. All I could do was stare at her. The kid handed her, her coffee and she thanked him. I vaguely noticed Skyla and Maggie standing on either side of her. I saw Skyla’s eyes flash to me for only a second before shooting back to Pru.