by M. Leighton
Lauren actually laughs. Laughs! It’s soft, but audible. I guess she knows exactly what I’m up to. I never was as good at these games as she was. Thankfully, she doesn’t push it today.
“Angel went to college. Got pregnant. Married a bartender. Devastated the family, of course.”
“Of course.” There’s an eye-roll in my words, but it’s anyone’s guess whether Lauren notices.
“Not everyone can hold on to a good life when it’s given to them.”
“No. I guess not. We all grow up. Change.”
“Yes. Some more than others.”
More puzzling statements.
I just smile, mainly because, if I don’t, I’m afraid I’ll reach over and throttle Lauren. She’s more irritating now than she was in high school, and frankly, I didn’t even think that was possible.
I clear my throat and steer the conversation back into less personal waters. “So, this position. Anything you’d like me to know or keep in mind as I get started?”
“Just a couple of things. Number one, if you have any questions, bring them directly to me.”
“Cassie told me to ask Bruce, so if it’s a bother—”
“Disregard Cassie. I’ll be your primary contact.”
“Okay. If anything comes up, I’ll come straight to you.” That makes me uneasy for reasons I don’t quite understand yet. “Anything else?”
“Don’t screw up. Our corporate clients are very important to Lees and Hammer. Discretion is key and mistakes aren’t tolerated. When it comes to these businesses, we have a one strike policy.”
I nod. That seems harsh, but whatever. “Got it.”
Lauren takes a sip of her drink then stands, holding out her free hand. I take it. “Then welcome aboard. Let me know if you need anything.”
She gives me a polite smile and moves around to her desk. She pulls out the chair, sits down, and immediately starts going through papers like I’m not even in the room.
Just like that, I’m dismissed.
I make my way to the door and walk out without a word or backward glance. That was weird and uncomfortable and…just weird. And I’m so damn glad it’s over!
I stab the down button at the elevator, suddenly anxious to get home, even though home right now is the same place that once felt like a prison. As I walk, however, I’m not picturing the huge trees that grace the front yard or the vast fields that surround it. I’m picturing a face. The face of a boy I knew a lifetime ago and wondering what kind of man he has become.
1989
17 Years Old
Chapter 20
My sleep was fitful. Not that I was surprised. Whereas with Dane I wanted the night to last forever, this time I wanted it to fly by. I wanted to close my eyes one second and open them the next to find morning creeping through the curtains in my room.
But that didn’t happen.
I had to tough it out until three thirty a.m., at which point I was so exhausted the only thing I could do was sleep. I was sluggish when my alarm went off, but only for a second.
Then I remembered what lay ahead.
I got up and raced to my backpack, took out the test, tucked it under my T-shirt and ran to the bathroom. I managed to pee on the stick before the nausea swept in with an unholy vengeance. I’d forgotten to get some crackers in me before getting up.
As I sat on the floor, curled around the commode, I tried to imagine what five minutes would be. Not that it mattered. The little window showed two pink lines before I could even get my second puke out. That didn’t change after three dry heaves, or roughly five minutes.
The knock at the door startled me. I shuffled to my feet and scrambled to bury the test in the trashcan. I made a mental note to smuggle it out after my shower, before Momma could empty it. She was a stickler about empty trashcans. God forbid we have company, none of whom ever came to the second floor at all, much less to my bathroom, that might see a tissue in the trashcan.
Oh, the audacity! To throw actual trash into the actual trash can.
My irritation was in full swing by the time I opened the door. “What?”
My mother frowned, clutching her throat as though I’d slapped her. “I suppose that’s the thanks I get for coming to check on my daughter.”
I exhaled through my nose, the air hissing like a snake. “I feel like crap, Momma.”
I pushed past her and stomped back to my room, fully intending to close the door, but another wave of nausea hit me before I could. Hand over mouth, I ran back the way I’d come and flung myself at the toilet just in the nick of time.
When the heaving was dwindling once more, I rested my head on the lid and just sat there. I didn’t open my eyes when I heard the rustling of my mother’s robe. I didn’t open them when I heard the faucet cut on either. I simply sighed in relief when the cool cloth touched my forehead.
“Come on. Up, up. Let’s get you to your room.” Her voice was surprisingly tender, for which I was grateful. I couldn’t handle her at that moment. I felt like my skin and my bones were being torn apart by the tempest of emotion that raged inside me. I just wanted to be alone so I could sort through it all, figure out what to do.
I lumbered to a stand and let Momma lead me back to bed, where I rolled onto my side and curled into the fetal position. “Thanks, Momma.”
“I’ll be right back.”
I listened to her footsteps as she made her way downstairs, and I listened to them again as she made her way back up. I heard her come into my room again and set something on the bedside table, and then I felt the mattress sag when she perched beside me.
“Here. Take a sip of ginger ale and a bite of cracker.”
I levered myself up onto my elbows and did as she asked. My stomach thanked me. Until I lay back down.
I murmured sickly, trying to get out of bed quickly enough, but before I could, my mother was racing away and returning with the trashcan from the bathroom. Unceremoniously, and much to my horror, she dumped the trash onto the floor and gave me the empty basket to throw up in, which I did. The ginger ale and cracker came right back up, and through my tearing eyes, I saw the blue and white stick strewn just a few feet from me.
Momma started to turn away, but I stopped her. “Can you sit with me for just a few minutes?”
I was buying time, anything to keep her from seeing what I desperately wanted to remain hidden. She did as I asked, and when I scooted over, she sat in the curve of my body and rubbed soothing circles on my back. Little did she know that nothing could soothe me. I was strung about as tight as a human being could be strung.
She started humming, which did actually cause me to relax a little, but I was still completely focused on how to keep her from seeing the incriminating stick on the floor. What I didn’t count on or consider or have any way of planning for, however, was another voice in the room.
“What the hell is this?”
My mother leaned back just in time for me to see my stepfather standing in the center of the room, holding up the used (and very positive) pregnancy test like a nail he was getting ready to hammer into my coffin.
I closed my eyes, praying this was all just a dream, that it was only happening inside my head, but when I opened them again, both my mother and Alton were staring at me.
“Brinkley?”
They awaited an answer.
I only had one to give them.
“I’m pregnant.”
Chapter 21
My mother and Alton spoke at the same time.
“Brinkley Renee!”
“You little whore!”
Momma was taken aback.
My stepfather was furious.
Me? I had no idea what I was.
Other than pregnant.
By Dane James.
“Please tell me it’s Chad’s.”
I looked from my mom to Alton and back again. And then I laughed. I couldn’t help myself. Most teenaged girls had to worry that their parents would disown them if they got pregnant. Not me. I only had to worry a
bout getting pregnant by the wrong boy.
“It’s not.”
Alton’s anger was barely controlled when he spoke again. “Jesus Christ, you’d better not say it’s Dane James’.”
To that, I said nothing.
“You trashy little slut,” he said, coming at me. He actually grabbed my upper arms and started to shake me, but before he could rattle my teeth, my mother stepped in.
“Alton, calm down. We can fix this. We can fix this.”
When he released me, I crawled to the corner where the bed met the wall, as far from my stepfather as I could get. He stared daggers at me as Momma urged him back, away from the bed. Away from me.
“She’ll have an abortion. No one will know. I’ll take her to Columbia. Or Charlotte. To a clinic. You can tell people she and I went to a spa for the weekend. When we come back, no one will be the wiser. She’ll get more serious about Chad and she’ll marry well. It’ll work out fine. You’ll see.”
She guided him out of the room, all the while he was cussing a blue streak under his breath, calling me every name he could think of, some of which were even new to me. Before she closed the door, my mother threw me a look that told me to stay put and keep my mouth shut. She needn’t have worried about that, though. Alton had scared me. For a few seconds, I actually thought he might hurt me. The look in his eyes…it was frightening. I had no desire to be near him, or to push him to that point again. At least not right now. I didn’t feel well and I had a lot of thinking to do.
I didn’t see or hear from anyone for the rest of the day. I could hear Momma downstairs puttering around. A couple of times I heard her voice, something about scheduling a time. I assumed it was my abortion she was making arrangements for, as though I’d go along and not have any problem with getting rid of a baby made in love with the guy who saved me from dying inside on practically a daily basis.
On and off, I cried. I cried for the untimeliness of the pregnancy, I cried for what might happen next, I cried that my mother hadn’t thought for one second that I might not want an abortion. I cried for myself, my youth, my future.
I just cried.
I spent part of the afternoon, when I felt better, staring out the window, imagining Dane waiting for me at our rock. And me never showing up.
It had been weeks since I’d seen him.
It might as well have been a lifetime.
If I thought for one second he’d be there now, I’d leave. I’d run out the front door and run to him and never look back. But he’d be in school, where I should be. And then he’d be at practice, and then he’d come home and work. And I’d miss my chance with him. Again.
Only tonight, no one would stop me. I’d already made up my mind that I was going to see him, Alton be damned. The worst had already happened. We’d been found out. There was no reason not to go see him now. I had to tell him about our baby.
I showered and dressed with great care, putting on a shirt that made my eyes look greener and my most flattering pair of jeans. Dane would remember this night, this conversation forever. I wanted to be beautiful for him.
If I hadn’t been ravenous from not eating all day (and probably from being pregnant), I’d have skipped dinner, but my stomach was growling so vigorously I almost felt queasy. When I appeared in the dining room doorway, neither Alton nor my mother said a word. In fact, Alton didn’t even look up, like he was disgusted by the sight of me.
I took my customary chair across from my mother, and I dug in, filling my plate with a huge helping of every item she’d prepared. When I was halfway through and feeling stronger—and braver—I cleared my throat and made my announcement.
“I’m not getting an abortion.”
If someone had dropped a pin a mile away, it could’ve been heard in the dense and complete silence that surrounded the table.
At first, they both just stared at me. Neither said a word.
The first one to speak up was Alton, and he was even fairly calm when he did. “Then you’ll leave.”
He said it as though he was informing us that the sun was supposed to come up in the morning. No big deal.
Only it was a huge deal.
“Pardon me?”
He even continued to eat, shrugging when he reiterated. “Your choices are: have an abortion or leave. Up to you.”
My mother kept her head down and kept eating. If that’s even what she was doing. It looked more like she was pushing food around her plate with her fork.
“Ummmm, no. I won’t be leaving. I won’t be leaving, and I won’t be having an abortion. It’s my body. My baby. I get to make the choice.”
“No. You don’t. You won’t be making a fool of me. I promise you those are the only two choices you have.”
His anger was coming back. I could see it in the red tinge that was suffusing his face.
“You can’t make me have an abortion.”
“Then get out. Pack your shit and get out.”
I hadn’t expected this, so I had no defense prepared. “No.”
Alton slammed his fists down on the table so sharply, so suddenly, so forcefully that it rattled every glass, plate, and piece of silverware. It sounded like a gunshot, and my mother and I both jumped.
“You don’t get to tell me no! You will either get rid of that piece of filth in your belly, or you’ll leave here and never come back.”
I was getting angry now, too. “You can’t make me do either! I’m a minor. You can’t put me out on the street.”
“The hell I can’t! Try me. Try me, little girl, and see what happens.” Alton stood up so abruptly his chair tipped over and hit the floor with a loud clatter. “I’ll ruin his life, Brinkley. Do you hear me? I’ll destroy him and his father. I’ll dismantle his whole life. How do you think he’ll feel about you then? When you’re all homeless. And he has another mouth to feed. An unwanted mouth to feed. How much do you think he’ll love you when he finds out the mother of his brat could’ve saved him a lifetime of misery, a lifetime of guilt, but she was such a selfish little bitch she couldn’t be bothered to think of anyone else? How do you see that working out, Brinkley?” As if I might not have heard him screaming at me, my stepfather bent down in my face and roared, “Huh? How will that work out for you?”
With that, he turned around and stalked off, walking out the front door and slamming it behind him. My mother and I sat in the wake of his fury, the quiet falling around us like fire raining from the sky.
“Brinkley, how could you?” Her voice trembled as though she was close to tears.
“How could I what? Make a mistake?”
“You’ve ruined everything. Everything I fought so hard to give you, it’s all ruined if you don’t do this. Can’t you see how stupid you’re being?”
“Stupid? For wanting a child made in love? How is that stupid?”
“Because that child will only be a burden to you. One day, it will be the chain that holds you back, the regret you can never outrun. Is that what you want for your life? You’ll suffer, Brinkley. All alone, you’ll suffer and he’ll be gone. One day you’ll wake up and you’ll have wasted the best years of your life. You’ll be poor and alone, with nothing to show for it.”
“Is…is that how you feel about me, Momma? Is that why I was never enough to make you happy?”
At least she had the good grace to lower her eyes in shame. But she didn’t deny it, because it was true. I was a burden to her. I was the chain that held her back. I was her one big regret. And Alton was the one who’d saved her from a life of poverty and solitude. Or at least that’s how she saw it.
“I’ve done what I could to give you opportunities in life, Brinkley, but if you don’t make the right choice now, there’s nothing I can do to help you.”
My heart rose up in my throat, choking me. “You mean there’s nothing you will do to help me. You could. You just won’t.”
At that, she brought her eyes back up to mine and said simply, “It’s the same thing.” Momma wiped her mouth, laid h
er napkin beside her plate, and rose gracefully to her feet. “Have the abortion, Brinkley. Don’t push him. He could make this so much worse for you. And for Dane. If you don’t think of yourself, and you don’t think of me, think of him.”
She walked away after that, leaving me the heaviest weight of my life resting on my shoulders. But none of it, nothing she’d said, the weight of it all, the scariness of it all, was enough to make me waver. Not for one sliver of a second. I was pregnant with Dane James’ baby. I could no more kill it than I could kill him. If I had to leave in order to give our baby life, I would. I could be that strong. For it. For the little bundle that would carry a piece of him and a piece of me, for the embodiment of our love, I could be strong.
No longer hungry, I pushed away from the table, too. I walked up to my room, my head abuzz with the surrealness of the situation. Of all the outcomes for my life, I’d never imagined this would be the route it would take. I’d thought I might fall somewhere in the middle of what I wanted and what Momma wanted for me. Graduate high school, go off to college with Dane, even though we’d both have to pay our own way, prove to all the people of Shepherd’s Mill that he was a good bet, and live happily ever after. Vindicated. Accepted.
But how would it all pan out now? Could I risk telling Dane? Alton obviously hated him. He would probably love having an excuse to make Dane’s life miserable. And how could I live with myself knowing I was the one who made that happen?
I couldn’t.
I loved Dane James. I wanted him to be happy. I’d imagined he might be happy with me, but what if that wasn’t possible? Could I live with myself knowing that he hated me for destroying not just his life, but his father’s, too? Could I take that chance?
With a hollow heart, I realized that I couldn’t. As much as I wanted a life with Dane James, I couldn’t risk what Alton might do, what I felt he actually would do if given the least bit of encouragement. Reputation was everything in this town. He would protect his with every weapon at his disposal. And, when fighting with me, Dane was the ultimate weapon. The only thing he could use to hurt me or manipulate me.