by PJ Sharon
“There it is.” Dr. Fitzpatrick pointed to the screen. “There’s the head—well-formed fingers and toes.” She outlined each feature and I watched as my baby came into view, a whole person, wiggling and living inside me. She clicked several buttons, measuring the length of the limbs, the height and width of the head.
“Everything looks great. Do you want to know the sex, or do you want it to be a surprise?”
I met her gaze, my mind foggy and detached from my body. “You can tell that?” I looked back at the screen, the image blurring in and out. I swiped at my tears, afraid to breathe and lose the image again.
“Not always, but your baby is turned at a good angle.” She waited for me to answer, her smile patient, her eyes kind and encouraging.
A clinical calm came over me. “Yeah, I’d like to know.” I’d had enough surprises—not that knowing would make a difference. I already loved the little person that was part me and part Carter.
She moved the sound head again and pointed at the screen. “Your little boy is sucking his thumb already. That’s a good sign.”
My heart hammered in my chest and I clenched my jaw to choke back tears. The image on the screen showed a fist clenched tight with a thumb stuck in its mouth, its little nose and giant head reminding me that miracles do happen.
∞∞∞
The sun was setting over the lake and the sky had those rich layers of gray, blue, purple and salmony-pink that could only be captured by an artist’s palate and never truly be described. Bill had the fire lit and the living room was cozy and warm, filled with the scent of pine from the Christmas tree. The colored lights and tinsel sparkled and danced around the room. When I looked up, an angel hovered at the top of the tree, her halo forming a round shadow on the ceiling as if she’d dropped in through a portal from heaven to check in on us. I thought of Mom and smiled.
“Do you want some hot chocolate before you beat the pants off me?” Bill chuckled. Just then, the doorbell rang. “Are you expecting company?” He asked.
I shook my head and shrugged. “Me neither,” he said. I finished setting up the Scrabble board and picking my letters as he disappeared down the hallway. I lined up the tiles—EIGRFOV.
A moment later, I heard footsteps coming my way. “Who’s...?” My words caught in my throat. Carter stood a few feet away, his cheeks red from the cold.
“We need to talk.” His hands were jammed into his pockets and his face looked serious.
I gulped. There was no way of hiding the pregnancy from him any longer. I wore a particularly baggy top, but even so, my roundness was unmistakable.
Bill gave me a look as if to ask if I wanted to be left alone with Carter. I nodded briefly. “I’ll give you two some privacy.” He turned to leave then stopped, facing off with Carter. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me, Penny.”
Once we were alone, I slid over on the couch. “Do you want to sit down?”
“I can’t believe you kept this from me.” Oddly, he didn’t seem surprised. He stood towering over me, sending my nerves into overdrive. I brought my thumb to my mouth to chew a newly healed section of cuticle and then clasped my hands together instead.
“Please, sit down and let me explain.”
He sat on the couch beside me and stared at my stomach. “So, explain.” Despite the warmth in the room, his voice had a distinct chill.
He listened while I gave him all of the reasons I hadn’t told him about the baby. When I was finished, he just looked at me like I was a stranger. “You should have told me,” was all he said, his eyes showing the hurt and disappointment I’d come to recognize on the faces of people I’d loved and lied to.
I studied the seven lettered tiles in my Scrabble tray, trying to find the words to make this right. GRIEF stood out in block letters. My throat tightened. So much had been lost these last months. I thought of all the time we’d spent apart—all that he’d missed. I looked up at him. “How did you find out, anyway?
“Your dad called me.”
“Bill?” I asked, curious and a little taken aback.
“No. Your...other dad.”
“Oh.” I thought about that for a minute, the silence growing awkward as questions and emotions flew through my mind. “Why did he do that? I mean, what did he say?”
The muscle in Carter’s jaw twitched. “He asked what kind of man I was. I told him I liked to think of myself as a good guy—someone who is dependable and honest.”
Tears burned behind my eyes and I looked down at the letters again. GIVER. “You are that kind of man, Carter.”
“Then why didn’t you trust me?” The pain in his voice clawed at my heart.
“I was scared. I didn’t trust myself. I’d gotten so used to lying...to myself, to everybody else...I didn’t know how to be honest.”
“What were you so afraid of?” His face and voice softened, a reminder of the gentleness I knew lay beneath the hurt and anger.
“I...I was afraid that if you really knew me, you wouldn’t want to be with me. I thought after I’d lied to you, that you would never trust me again. I was afraid that if I let myself need you...you would disappear...you’d leave me.” I choked out the words while I held back tears.
Carter sat very still for a long time, his eyes studying me like he was trying to figure something out. Finally he looked away. “Is there anything else you’ve been keeping from me?”
I had to think before answering. I wanted to be totally honest. “Well...I’m terrified of motorcycles, I hate the taste of beer, and I’m...not a hockey fan.”
Finally, a small smile curved his lips. “I guess I can live with that.” His face grew serious again. “But no more lies, promise?”
“I promise.” I meant it too. I wanted to be a person who could be trusted—someone my baby could depend on and be proud of—someone Carter could love and believe in. No matter the consequences of telling the truth, I would be honest from then on.
He brushed away the tears that streamed down my cheeks. Then he wrapped his arms around me, whispering against my hair. “You know what else your dad asked me? He asked me if I loved you.”
I closed my eyes and inhaled the familiar scent of him and the sweet, fresh pine that filled the air. “What did you tell him?” I asked, holding him tight and looking beyond him. I held my breath, not sure I was ready for his answer.
He released me and looked down, lifting my chin so I could see his eyes, wide and glassy with emotion. “I told him that I’ve loved you since the first time we met. I think it was when you bent down to wipe the orange soda off my skates. From that moment on, my heart was yours.”
I sucked in another quick breath before he kissed me. My mind exploded with emotions. Relief, joy, gratitude, and love washed through me. He loved me. Oh, thank you, God! He loved me. I kissed him back, hard and long, until I felt like I was drowning. I pulled away and caught my breath, half crying and half laughing. Doubt crept in. I pulled back.
“What’s wrong?” Carter’s face grew grim.
“What about Cindy?” I asked.
His face softened, cheeks reddening. “That was a mistake, and I’m sorry it hurt you. After you...I wasn’t thinking. It won’t happen again.” His eyes met mine and I knew he meant it. That was one thing about Carter, he couldn’t look someone in the eye and lie. Maybe I had some things to learn from him, after all. From the sounds of things, we had both my father’s blessings—which meant more than I wanted to think about at that moment.
Richard had called him, asked him if he loved me, and then told him I was pregnant. I didn’t know what it all meant or how it would change things, but I knew that everything would be different now. As Carter held me close, the warmth of the fire seeped into my bones, dissipating the chill that had resided there for months. I looked down at my Scrabble tiles one more time, the letters watery through my tears.
FORGIVE.
Chapter 42
Carter came back Christmas morning and planned to spend the day. We’d talk
ed late into the night and when he left to go back to Sunny’s house, he said he had a big surprise for me, and wouldn’t tell me until Christmas Day. I bugged him as soon as he settled onto the couch.
“C’mon. What is it? Tell meee.”
“Nope.” He grinned and raised one eyebrow, a cute but cocky habit I had actually missed. He was enjoying this way too much.
Bill handed me another gift from under the tree. “Another one?” I half groaned. “You are spoiling me rotten. You’ve already given me the car, the baby books, (I referenced the pile of ‘How to be a mother’ manuals), and new slippers—I love them by the way.” I lifted my feet to admire my bright yellow Big Bird slippers. I’d gotten him a pair of blue Cookie Monster ones—not easy to find in size twelve-and-a-half.
“Open it. It’s more for the baby.” He grinned sheepishly. “I couldn’t help myself.”
I tore off the paper and lifted the cover on the box. Inside were a little sailor’s outfit, and a tiny tee shirt that said, Grampa’s Little First Mate.
I busted out laughing, mainly to cover the tears, and hugged him. “You’re the best. Now it’s your turn.” I went to the tree and picked out a large, flat box with a pink and purple swirly ribbon. “I hope you like it.”
Bill smiled at me from the big stuffed leather chair and proceeded to untie the ribbons and run his thumb under the tape, no doubt planning to save the wrapping paper. He lifted the lid from the box. I watched him go still, his face frozen like what he saw inside had stopped his internal clock. The smile had disappeared and his eyes blinked several times. “Oh, Penny.” He lifted two framed pictures out of the box. He set them side by side in his lap and covered his mouth with one hand, staring at the photos.
I went over and sat on the arm of the chair, reaching around his shoulders to give him a light squeeze. I pointed at the picture on the left. “That one was taken the night of the show, remember?” It was a picture of me and Bill standing outside the rink in the gardens. Sarah had done a fine job capturing the proud, happy smiles on both of our faces. “The other one was taken at my first competition, before Mom got sick.” She’d just given me the stuffed penguin and she had her arms around me in an enthusiastic embrace. We were both wearing beaming grins, and her long, brown hair framed her face, glossy and beautiful.
“It’s perfect, Penny. Thank you.” He blinked back tears and hugged me, placing a kiss on my forehead. “I have exactly the place for these.” He rose, wiping tears from his eyes. “I’m going to put them on my office desk. If you’ll excuse me...”
I went back to sit next to Carter giving him an apologetic grimace. “I didn’t know you’d be here, so I didn’t get you anything.”
He reached over and laid a hand on my belly just as the little womb raider kicked. A big smile lit Carter’s face. “I wouldn’t say that. I think I got the best present ever.” He kissed my cheek. Then his expression grew serious. “I meant what I said last night, Penny. I do love you. But...I want to be honest.” He took my hand in his, tentative and quiet. “This is all pretty terrifying.”
I started to say that I understood when he pressed his fingers to my lips. “Let me finish.” He cleared his throat, took my hand in his, and gazed into my eyes, captivating me with the importance of the moment. “I’m not sure what’s going to happen next and I know we’re young, but I want to promise you something.”
Promises usually scared me. I knew how fragile they were and how often disappointment rode on their heels. But after everything I’d been through, I wanted to trust him. Knowing that the past and future were beyond my control, I wanted to hang on to Carter’s promise with both hands. “What is it?” I asked.
“No matter what happens with us, I’ll be a good father to this baby. And as far as I’m concerned that means doing whatever it takes to make his mom happy.” He stroked my cheek and kissed me, lingering long enough that my heart raced and heat flooded my body. He pulled back and smiled.
I couldn’t take another moment of all of this seriousness, even if my heart was about to burst with happiness. “Does that mean you’re going to tell me about my present now?” I sounded impatient and childish but I didn’t care. Too much honesty still made me uncomfortable, and I wondered if I would get over that in time. Until I did, childish enthusiasm seemed preferable to hiding behind lies. I’d broken the tension of the moment and Carter was grinning broadly. I couldn’t imagine what he might have gotten me.
He looked at his watch. “It should be here any second.” As if he’d planned it that way, the doorbell rang. “Don’t you love the magic of Christmas?” he said.
I heard Bill open the door, an exchange of voices, and then footfalls coming down the hall. I peered around Carter to see...Dad...Richard. My mouth fell open. He stood staring at me, his lips thin with tension. Dressed in his usual Sunday best for church, the gray suit jacket and tie reminded me of the holiday. I’d stopped going to church so many months ago, that I’d forgotten about Christmas being a Holy Day of obligation. A stab of old guilt hit me between the eyes, followed by all the hurt and anger I’d felt at being rejected by this man I’d known as my father for seventeen years. I stood and faced him.
“What are you doing here?”
“I invited him.” Bill spoke up, drawing my glare to shift between my two dads. “I thought it was time for you two to work things out. Carter helped me convince him to come.”
I shot an icy glance at Carter. “You were in on this?” I looked back at Richard. “I don’t think there’s anything I have to say to you.” My pulse thudded in my ears and heat crawled up my face. How dare these men think they knew what was best for me?
I wanted to escape to my room, but before I could take a step, Carter grabbed my hand. “Give him a chance to set things right. We all make mistakes.” I stared at him for a long minute, the pounding in my ears receding. Hazel eyes stared deeply into mine, a sympathetic smile drawing the corners of his mouth upward. “Doesn’t everybody deserve a second chance?”
I glanced over at Richard who stood fidgeting with his coat sleeves. “Fine. I’ll give you ten minutes,” I said. I sat down on the couch, my arms folded across my middle, protecting my belly, or maybe holding my baby for comfort, a habit I noticed kept me from chewing my cuticles. I bounced my knee to diffuse the trembling.
“Carter and I will be in the kitchen.” Bill put a hand on Carter’s shoulder leading him out of the room. “Do you know how to braise a roast, Son?” Carter glanced at me over his shoulder, his eyes filled with worry.
Richard stood there, staring me up and down. “You look...lovely,” he said.
“You now have nine and a half minutes.”
He sat down next to me. “I came to say...I’m sorry. I know that those words can’t mean much after...what I did. I turned my back on you when you needed me the most. It is unforgiveable and I’m...sorry.” He searched my face as if looking for a clue as to what I was thinking or feeling. I didn’t feel inclined to make it easy, so I kept my face hard and blank.
“Is that it?” I snapped.
His face fell and a sharp stab of pain pinched in my chest. “No, that’s not it. I need to explain some things to you.” He took a deep breath and let it out in a huff. “I’ve been in counseling. I’m sober and going to AA meetings regularly. I’m...trying to make amends.”
“Does that mean you’re okay with Sarah’s being gay?” I asked, anxious to test his resolve and reveling in seeing him squirm a bit.
“I’m working on acceptance of what I can’t change,” he said cautiously.
“Love the sinner, hate the sin?” A cliché Mom often used when she got tired of Dad’s self-righteous judgments. Her gift for sarcasm bubbled to the surface.
His eyes widened. After a moment he shot back, “Rome wasn’t built in a day, Penelope.” His usual stern expression when he said such things had turned into a self-deprecating look of amusement. It had been a saying that he threw at Mom when she hen-pecked him about his procrastination with some hou
sehold project left unfinished.
My hands stopped shaking and a cool calm took over. For the first time in my life, I felt on equal footing with him. I could see him as my mother had. She used to say he was a work in progress. And then she would say, ‘But aren’t we all?’
He sat forward on the couch, turning to face me fully. “I need you to understand why I...why I’ve done the things I’ve done.” He waited until he’d captured my attention before he started. “When I found out about your mother’s...relationship with Bill, I realized I’d lost her. I knew she’d never have a fling. It was clear that she was in love with him. It broke my heart. I was confused, angry—vengeful. I didn’t know what to do. When she told me she was pregnant and wasn’t sure who the father was, I really lost it. Part of me hated her for the betrayal. But at the same time, I convinced myself that having that baby would save our marriage. Neither of us believed in divorce. We wanted to keep the family together—to protect our children from going through an ugly breakup. I thought if she knew that I loved her enough to raise another man’s child, she would see that I was the better man—and she would love me.”
He drew another deep breath, running his hand through hair that was thin and slicked back, grayer than it had been. He looked older than I remembered, but then my parents had always seemed old to me. I thought that it should have given them an advantage, but I had accepted that wisdom didn’t necessarily come with age, given how screwed up my parents were.
My heart melted a little, knowing what a hard life Richard had led. He’d grown up with an abusive drunk for a father, survived the horrors of war, and lived with the pain of his wife’s infidelity for years, knowing that she loved someone else. But it was no excuse for how he had treated me.
“Go on,” I said, anticipating more excuses and hardening my heart to keep from giving in to the old habit of feeling sorry for him.
He met my gaze, his brown eyes shimmering. “When I held you for the first time, I loved you instantly.”