My Life as a Rhombus

Home > Mystery > My Life as a Rhombus > Page 9
My Life as a Rhombus Page 9

by Varian Johnson


  He winked at me. “Georgia Tech is a pretty good school.”

  Again, I focused on the basketball as it sat sandwiched between David’s lean, muscular torso and his sculpted arm.

  Sarah leaned over and elbowed me in the ribs. “Now you’re supposed to flirt back.”

  I picked up a pillow from her bed and whacked her across the head, but was sure not to really hurt her. “I’m flirting on the inside,” I said, before sticking my tongue out at her.

  David looked at his watch. “I’m late.” He reached out and hugged Sarah. “Y’all be safe.”

  Sarah rolled her eyes, but still returned her brother’s embrace. “We’ll be sure to sleep with the lights on.”

  David hugged me as well. “Keep Sarah out of trouble.”

  I nodded. Either I was helping her get out of trouble, or I was getting her into more trouble than she had ever experienced.

  David grabbed Sarah’s suitcase, and we all shuffled out of her room.

  We got to the kitchen door, and I tapped Sarah on the shoulder. “Aren’t you going to say goodbye to your mother?”

  “I haven’t spoken to her in two days. I’m not about to start now.”

  I let David walk a few steps ahead of us. “You didn’t tell her, did you?”

  “There’s nothing to tell,” she said, before shrugging. “At least, there’ll be nothing to tell after this weekend, right?”

  “Where’s Sarah?” Helen asked as I entered her work shed. The sky was dark and overcast, but Helen’s industrial floodlights basked her entire backyard in a sea of artificial moonlight.

  “She’s taking a shower. I figured I’d come out and check on you. What are you doing?”

  “Sweeping.”

  I frowned. The only time Helen cleaned her work shed was when she had too much on her mind to be creative.

  Helen pointed to a pile of clay pots in one of the corners of the shed. “You can help by separating the good ones from the bad.”

  I looked toward the corner. I’d be lucky to find one good pot out of the twenty or thirty stacked on top of each other.

  “Thank you for not saying anything to Sarah about the pregnancy,” I said.

  “I did as you asked.”

  I had to beg Helen not to say anything to Sarah about our plans to sneak to Atlanta. Sarah had enough pressure on her without someone else throwing in his or her two cents. Not that what Helen would have said was bad—I just figured it was unnecessary at this point. Sarah had made her choice, and we had to respect that.

  “You don’t approve of our plan, do you?”

  “Do you expect me to approve of you lying to your father and sneaking an underage girl across state lines to terminate her pregnancy?”

  I gulped. “That’s not quite how I would put it.”

  She brushed a few wisps of hair from her face. “I’m just glad you didn’t try to convince me to go with you.”

  “I thought about it, but I didn’t want you getting into trouble if things didn’t turn out as planned.”

  “I’m not the one you should be worried about.” Helen’s usual jovial grin had been nonexistent the entire evening. Instead, her pink lips formed a hard and stern line across her face. “Sarah could get into a lot of trouble.”

  “She’s already in a lot of trouble,” I said. “And if I don’t go with her, she’ll go anyway. By herself.”

  Helen stopped sweeping and leaned against her broom. “Are you sure she’s ready for this? It’s not like she can change her mind halfway through the procedure.”

  I fought the temptation to roll my eyes. “Don’t forget who you’re talking to. I know what she’s getting herself into.”

  “But does she know?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “But at least she’s the one making the decision.”

  Helen propped her broom against the wall. “You’ll need to make sure she gets on some type of birth control after she’s recuperated.”

  “I plan to take her with me the next time I go to the clinic,” I said. “With an allowance like hers, she shouldn’t have any trouble affording birth control pills.”

  The work shed was only a few yards wide, so it only took Helen a few steps to traverse the room. “You know, those pills would be a lot cheaper if you covered them with your father’s insurance.”

  “No. What I do with my body is none of his business.”

  She smiled at me, but not in a happy way. “You still blame your father, don’t you?”

  I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. I could feel my tongue turning to paste. “He made me do it.”

  “He was only doing what he thought was best.”

  “It’s my body.”

  “But you’re his child.”

  I snorted. “No man has the right to tell a woman what to do with her body.”

  “But don’t you see? You weren’t a woman. You were only fifteen. Did you really think you were mature enough to have a child at that age?”

  I shrugged. “I guess we’ll never know.”

  Helen reached out and gave me a hug.

  “You do realize you’re covering me in dust,” I said.

  She patted me on my back, surrounding us in a dust storm. “That’s why God created showers.”

  I left Helen in the shed and headed back to the house. Sarah was in the living room, petting one of the cats and flipping through the five television channels that Helen got with her standard TV antenna. She looked like she could be a twelve-year-old, the way she was curled up in her pajamas on the couch. She looked too innocent to be pregnant. But, I had probably looked the same way.

  “You finished outside?” she asked once she noticed me.

  I nodded. “Come with me. I want to show you something.”

  I led Sarah from the living room to the guest bedroom. I motioned for her to sit on the bed while I pulled my scrapbook out of the trunk in the closet.

  “It’s kinda like a diary with pictures,” I said as I placed the scrapbook in her lap.

  Sarah tried to hand it back to me. “If it’s that personal, I don’t want to look through it.”

  I shook my head. “I want you to look through it.”

  Sarah opened the book and pointed to a photo. “Is that your family?”

  “Yeah.” I began pointing out pictures. “That’s Mom and Dad from college. There’s Helen.” I slid my finger to the corner of the page. “And there’s me, without teeth and in need of a diaper change.”

  Sarah laughed and continued to flip the pages. As she looked through the book, I gave her a history lesson on each page. Finally she got to the page I was waiting for her to see.

  She ran her fingers along the large, solitary “A” glued to the page, just as I did every time I looked at the scrapbook.

  “I guess you don’t need a college degree to figure out what the ‘A’ is for,” I said.

  Sarah closed the scrapbook. “Why did you do it?”

  “I was too young to have a child. Dad and I thought it was for the best.”

  “That makes sense—”

  “I’m sorry.” I finally looked at her. “I’m lying.”

  Sarah didn’t say anything. Her eyes told me to take all the time I needed.

  “It wasn’t my decision,” I continued. “Dad made me do it. He thought I was too young to have a kid. He thought it would ruin my future.”

  “He was probably right,” Sarah said.

  “Maybe.” I reached over and grabbed her hand. “Are you sure about this?”

  “I think so.”

  “I just don’t want you to have any regrets.”

  As Sarah smiled, her lips trembled a little. “It’s too late for regrets, isn’t it?” She handed the book back to me. “I’d better ge
t to sleep. I have a big day tomorrow.”

  Sarah pulled back the blanket and crawled into bed. Just like my father used to do, I leaned over and gave her a peck on the forehead. I could only wonder, if I hadn’t ended my pregnancy, would I be doing the same thing to my son or daughter every night?

  At exactly six o’clock, Gail pulled into the driveway. Sarah and I were already up, with our luggage collected in the kitchen.

  “Hey, Gail,” I said as she entered the house. “I should have known you’d be on time.”

  She cut her eyes at Sarah. “Have I ever let you down?”

  “Nice to see you again, Gail,” Helen said. “Do you want anything to eat?”

  Gail inhaled deeply, before looking at her watch. “Sure, I’ll take a few bites.”

  “That’s good,” Helen said, nodding toward the table, “because I already fixed you a plate.”

  Gail eyed the steaming plate, which happened to be next to Sarah. Gail stuck her head up and marched to the table. She then very deliberately slid her plate to the other side of the table and sat down.

  “Good morning,” she said to Sarah.

  “Morning,” Sarah replied back. Sarah’s trademark accent seemed to make Gail frown even more.

  “Why aren’t you eating?” Gail said.

  Sarah looked down at the table. “The nurse told me I couldn’t eat this morning.”

  That made Gail sit back. Maybe she had forgotten why we were going to Atlanta in the first place.

  “What time is your appointment?” Gail asked, a little quieter.

  “Eleven o’clock.”

  “Then we’d better get going.” Gail rose from the table and stuck a piece of bacon in her mouth. “We still have to stop by my sister’s place.”

  We trudged out of the house and into the foggy, cold morning air. Gail pulled her suitcase from her trunk and dumped it into mine. Sarah had positioned herself at the front passenger side door, but with one look from Gail, she quickly retreated to the back seat.

  I jumped in and started the car. I was glad I had a good collection of music, because something told me there wouldn’t be a lot of conversation on the three-hour trip.

  As I pulled out of the driveway, I looked at Helen through my rearview mirror. From the way she leaned against the handrail, to the rollers in her hair, to her fuzzy green housecoat, she looked exactly like she had looked when Dad and I had made our trip to Atlanta.

  The nice thing about the quiet drive was that I had time to think about what Sarah was doing, and the part I was playing in it. Was she mature enough to make this decision? Should her mother have been informed? I had tossed and turned most of the night, contemplating whether I should call her mother or not. I had awoke a few hours later with my hands still wrapped around the cordless phone.

  Sarah spent most of the trip faking a nap in the backseat, while Gail reread the same ten pages of a novel. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one nervous about what we were getting ourselves into.

  Gail had assured us that her sister spent more time at her boyfriend’s house than she did at her own apartment, so Sarah would have plenty of privacy. When we arrived at the apartment, Gail’s sister stayed long enough to hug Gail and slip a key into her palm before she darted across town to see her boyfriend. We invited Gail to come along with us to the clinic, but being the genius that she was, she wisely declined.

  Fifteen minutes after we left the apartment, we were there. The parking lot was surprisingly full. I didn’t know whether we should be happy or sad about other people being in our situation.

  I had prayed every night for the past three years that I would never see this place again. But here I was, walking across the same asphalt desert toward the building of my salvation. At least I wasn’t the one having the procedure this time. Lucky for me, unlucky for Sarah.

  “So this is it?” Sarah asked.

  Although I didn’t have to, I looked at the silver-plated numbers attached to the red brick face of the building. “Yep, this is the place.”

  “It’s not quite what I was expecting.”

  I almost laughed. “What did you think it would look like?”

  “I don’t know. It doesn’t even look like a hospital.”

  “It’s not a hospital.”

  The one-story building could have housed a law firm just as easily as it could have housed a women’s clinic. There were no protesters in front of the building, thank goodness. Sarah was having a hard enough time walking in, without a barrage of people yelling at her.

  Forget Sarah—I was having a hard enough time just being there. It was so … quiet. Although it was almost ten in the morning, it sounded like the entire city was asleep.

  Sarah teetered at the edge of the sidewalk running in front of the building. “How long until my appointment?”

  I looked at my watch. “Five minutes closer than when you asked me five minutes ago.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry for what? Being nervous? I’d be more concerned if you weren’t.” I wrapped my arm around her shoulders. “Let’s drive around for a while. Maybe we’ll even find an ice cream shop around here.”

  “I can’t eat before the procedure, remember.”

  I cringed. “Sorry, I forgot.”

  We walked away from the building in slow, timid steps. I couldn’t speak for Sarah, but I wanted to run as fast and as far away from the clinic as I could.

  We got back in the car, but I didn’t start the engine. “Sarah, it’s not too late to change your mind.”

  “I know.”

  I began turning the key in the ignition, but Sarah stopped me.

  “Am I doing the right thing? What if I’m making a mistake? What if—”

  “Sarah, this is your life. Whatever questions you have about this, I can’t answer.”

  She nodded and let go of my hand. “Let’s go for that drive.”

  “Will you be ready to go in when we get back?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. Will you wait with me?”

  “Of course.”

  “For how long?”

  “For as long as it takes.”

  “And what if we never go inside?” Sarah asked.

  I finally started the car. “Then we go back home.”

  Two weeks after our trip to Atlanta, things were pretty much the same as they had been before. I still helped Sarah with her trig homework. Gail and Sarah still didn’t get along, but at least Gail and I were back on good terms. I was still infatuated with David. And most importantly, Sarah was still pregnant.

  We must have sat outside that clinic for three hours. Sarah would come close to going inside, but she could never quite enter the building. She wasn’t ready to make a choice like that. I was glad she was mature enough to realize it. I didn’t know if I would have been as mature if I were in her situation.

  Of course, in typical Sarah fashion, she still hadn’t told her family about the pregnancy. She wanted to have one last weekend of freedom before she told David and her mother and “all hell broke loose.”

  Sarah’s plan was to go to the basketball game that Friday night and then go to a house party afterward. I was looking forward to going to the game (and seeing David in those shorts), but going to the party was a different matter. It had been so long since I had gone to a house party, I was afraid my body was allergic to music. And even if I did find the courage to dance, who would dance with me? David wasn’t the partying type, so there was no hope of wrapping my arms around him. Knowing my luck, I’d spend most of the night hiding in a corner.

  However, all the anxiety I was having over the party was nothing compared to the worry I got from Dad right before I was about to leave for the basketball game.

  I placed my hands on my hips. “What do you mean that you and Jac
kie are going to the game? When did you decide this?”

  “Earlier today,” he said as he stared into his bedroom mirror and combed his hair. “I’ve heard a lot of good things about the basketball team. I figured it would be a good game.”

  “Dad, you haven’t been to a basketball game at my school since my freshman year.”

  His gaze locked with mine through the reflection in the mirror. “Neither have you.”

  I winced. “Well, why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

  “Like I said, we decided at the last minute.” Dad put his comb down and turned around. “Do you still plan on going to that party tonight?”

  I nodded.

  “Who are you going with?”

  “Sarah.”

  Dad searched my face, as if he was looking for a lie. “Gail isn’t going?”

  “No. She isn’t into high school parties.”

  “She sounds like a smart girl.” He turned back to the mirror. “I’m sorry, but you can’t go—”

  “—Dad!”

  He sighed. “You can’t go unless I meet Sarah first. Will she be at the game?”

  I nodded.

  “Good,” he said. “Jackie will be here in a few minutes. You can ride with us to the school.”

  I trudged back to my room. I should have been happy that Dad was going to a game with me, right? I mean, I had been complaining for years that we didn’t do enough together. I just wished it were me and him going—not me, him, and his mistress.

  I called Sarah and told her I’d meet her at the game. She actually sounded happy to be finally meeting my father. Compared to her home life, Dad and I were the All-American Family.

  I looked at myself in the mirror. My clothes were all new, thanks to a shopping trip with Sarah. The hunter green sweater I wore fit me exactly the way it needed to. It hid the rolls at my stomach, and it made my chest look curvaceous.

  Sarah had bought one just like it, to hide her growing mid-section.

  The gymnasium was at a full roar when Dad, Jackie, and I walked in. The teams were only warming up, but people were already cheering. We were the best-ranked team in the conference, and we were playing the second-best team. Both sides of the gym were full of students and parents. I looked around for Sarah. After a few seconds, I caught a glimpse of her. She was parked behind our team’s bench, and it looked like she had managed to save a few seats.

 

‹ Prev