Luciana

by Maggie Wells

  I imagine the sound of studio laughter.

  “So your story is a little unique,” I said, glancing at my notes. “When you found out you were pregnant, what did your mom say?”

  “She wanted me to keep the baby,” Shawna said. “She even said she would raise Jack for me.”

  “How did you feel about that?” I asked.

  “Honestly, it kind of freaked me out,” Shawna said. “I’m sure you read the US Weekly story about Jack Nicholson?”

  “No,” I said. “What story?”

  “Well, basically his grandmother raised him when his mom got pregnant,” Shawna said. “But they told him that his grandmother was his mom and his mom was his sister. He didn’t know the truth until he was an adult. I was worried that my mom was going to do that to my Jack—tell him that I was his sister.”

  “That is creepy!” I said.

  “Fortunately, that’s not what my mom had in mind,” Shawna said. “Actually I don’t know what she had in mind because she isn’t raising Jack. I am. And Philippe’s mom helps out.”

  “But your mom convinced your dad, right?” I said.

  “I am pretty sure every girl on this show tells the same story. Her family pressured her to get an abortion and then for one reason or another, she just couldn’t go through with it, right? Philippe and his parents and my dad all wanted me to abort Jack. My mom fought back against all of them. Philippe’s parents were really pissed. My dad is an attorney and he got them to agree to pay child support.”

  “So that is why you decided to have the baby?” I asked.

  “No, it would not have changed anything. I had already decided to have the baby. But as my mom said to me back then, it takes a village to raise a child and now both of our families have stepped up to support us and make it possible for Philippe and me to stay in college.”

  “Is Philippe’s family still pissed?” I asked.

  “His dad is pissed about the money, yeah,” Shawna said.

  “Are you living with Philippe?” I asked.

  “No, but we are planning to get married!” Shawna exclaimed. “He lives at home with his parents and I live with my parents but we are still together.”

  “When are you planning to get married?” I asked.

  “I don’t know—when we finish college and get jobs and make enough money to get our own place,” Shawna said. “Jack will probably be ten years old by then. Just kidding.”

  “What is the hardest thing about being a teen mom?” I asked.

  “I was just watching the Candace episode,” Shawna said. “And it’s what she said. I have no friends. The friends I had in high school, and all the kids at Berkeley—all they want to do is go to concerts and get high and party all night. I can’t relate to them. They don’t want to go to the playground with Jack and me. And all the other moms at the playground are like ancient—like thirty-something. And the people at the pediatrician’s office are the worst. Everyone there treats me like I must be incompetent. By the time my friends get around to having babies, Jack will be so much older than their kids. Who will he play with? Will the other moms in kindergarten want to schedule play dates with Jack? What if he has no friends?”

  “Do you think you will want to have more kids?” I asked.

  “I sure hope so,” Shawna said. “I am an only child and Philippe is an only child. We don’t want Jack to be an only child. But we’re not planning on having another baby until after we get married. That will be years from now. I’m only going to school part-time—like Candace.”

  “Why is that?” I asked.

  “I tried going full-time and I couldn’t keep up with the work,” Shawna said. “I was so tired all of the time that I kept falling asleep when I was supposed to be doing my homework. Things got a little better when Jack started sleeping through the night. I am registered for a full course-load in the fall. We’ll see how it goes.”

  “And what about your mom?” I asked. “Does she help with Jack?”

  “No!” Shawna said. “That was all bullshit. My mom works full-time. She’s a professor at Berkeley. She has never been around to help. Philippe’s mom helps out a lot, though. She watches Jack two to three nights a week. My mom watches him every once in a while so Philippe and I can have a date night.”

  “What kind of a dad is Philippe?” I asked.

  Shawna frowned and pursed her lips. “Philippe is just a kid,” she said. “He is good for driving Jack back and forth between our houses, but when it comes to taking responsibility for feeding him, bathing him, putting him to sleep, Philippe is kind of useless. I watched the Jasmine episode and I think she got the formula right. It’s okay to be a teen mom, if your partner is an adult dad. But a teen dad? Please! That should be your next vlog series: Real Teen Dads. What a joke! Put a body cam on a teen dad—that would be good for a laugh. Now that baby might not survive as long.”

  “It would be like Survivor: Baby Edition!” I said.

  Shawna guffawed. “That’s perfect!”

  “Any regrets?” I asked.

  “Sure!” Shawna said. “I wish the condom had worked. I wish I had been on the pill. I have an IUD now—we are not taking any more chances. We love Jack but like Philippe said to me—the plan was to finish college, get married, and have kids. Oops, we got things a little bit out of order.”

  “Any advice for our audience?” I asked.

  “Use birth control!” Shawna shook her finger at the web cam. “Two forms of birth control at all times!”

  TWENTY ONE

  “WELCOME TO Real Teen Moms BROUGHT TO YOU by Luci Video,” I said into the camera. “Yay, videos!”

  “Live from St. Louis, Missouri, it’s Isabella Moran.” I checked my notes on my iPad. “Izzy was eighteen when her husband, Carlos, was killed in Afghanistan and she was already pregnant with their son, George. How old is George, now?” I asked.

  Izzy waived at the web cam. “Hi,” she shouted.

  “You don’t need to shout,” I said. “We can hear you just fine.”

  “What?” Izzy shouted.

  “Izzy, turn up the volume on your computer,” I said. I kicked myself for forgetting to do a sound check with Izzy before we started streaming. “Test, test, test,” I repeated as Izzy poked at her keyboard.

  “Okay,” she said. “I can hear you now.”

  “Great!” I said. “Let’s start over. Can we see George? How old is he?”

  Izzy bent over to pick up George and sat him on her lap facing the webcam. “Here he is. George is fourteen months.”

  “So your story is quite a bit different,” I said. “You were already married when you got pregnant?”

  “Well, not exactly,” Izzy said. “We were engaged but I was already pregnant before we got married. My parents were not happy.”

  “About the pregnancy?” I asked.

  “About the wedding,” she said. “My parents wanted me to go to college. They weren’t happy when Carlos asked me to marry him. They couldn’t figure out why we had to get married if I wasn’t already pregnant—and I wasn’t at the time. They were worried that I wouldn’t finish college.”

  “And?” I asked.

  “They were right, of course,” Izzy said. “Carlos had already enlisted and he wanted to get married before he was deployed. It was a real nice wedding and we had a honeymoon in New Orleans right before he left. But I got pregnant right away and it has been real hard, just George and me. So, no, I am not in school. I work as a hairdresser.”

  “What about your parents?” I asked. “Are you living with them?”

  “My mom kicked me out right after the wedding and I moved in with Carlos’s parents,” Izzy said. “His family was really good to me. But then his mom died of cancer right before Carlos died and I felt funny living there. I knew I needed to move out if I was going to get on with my life.”

  “I’m sorry about Carlos,” I said. “Losing him in the war—that must have been awful.”

  “Yeah,” Izzy said. “I feel like w
e really never got a chance to be married, play house together, you know? I hate this awful war.”

  “And he never met his son, right?” I asked.

  “No, Carlos just saw George as my baby bump on Skype,” Izzy said. “But he looks just like his dad. We always say that George is going to grow up to be a senator. That would be so awesome! But he is not allowed to join the Army. No way, no how!”

  “So Carlos has been gone for more than a year,” I said. “What about dating? Are you dating?”

  Izzy stood up, walked over to the playpen and set George down. When she came back to the web cam, her expression was fierce.

  “So this is about to get real,” she said. “Girls, and I mean all you girls out there who watch Luci Video, listen to me. Nobody is ever going to love your baby the way you do. It’s just like what Candace said; nobody wanted to date her once they found out that she had a kid. I didn’t have that problem but George was not Pete’s kid.”

  “Who is Pete?” I asked.

  “Pete is a guy I knew in high school,” Izzy said. “He was really more of Carlos’s friend. We ran into each other right before Carlos died and then when I coincidentally went into labor in his car, he took me to the hospital.”

  “You went into labor in Pete’s car?” I asked. “Is that what you said?”

  “Yeah, we were just friends then but I ran into him again last year, at work. We hooked up a few months ago and moved in together. That sounds like a happy ending, right? Your husband is killed in a war and then an old friend from high school shows up and wants to date you. Sounds perfect, right?”

  “So what went wrong?” I asked.

  “Like I said, George was not Pete’s kid. Your guy may say he loves you and that your kid is just part of the package. But it is not true. Babies can be annoying. They cry, they are messy, and they always need your attention. Everything George did annoyed Pete and we fought about it. A lot! And Pete was mean to George, I mean like scary-ass mean. I mean like, murderous mean.”

  “Did Pete ever hurt George?” I asked.

  “Pete hit me all the time,” Izzy said. “I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t think I could escape. I didn’t know where to go. I don’t make that much money and even with Carlos’s military benefits, it’s still hard balancing everything: rent and food and gas and childcare—you get the picture. But when I saw how scared George was, I knew I had to get him the hell out of there.”

  “That is really scary,” I said.

  “Yeah, you hear about this shit all of the time—domestic violence,” Izzy said. “But then when it happens to you, you can’t believe it’s happening. I mean, why would a man ever need to hit a woman?”

  “Why do they?” I asked.

  “I’ve had a lot of therapy,” Izzy said. “And what I learned is that the biggest misconception about these guys is that they have ‘anger management’ issues. They don't. They don't blow up at work or at the driver who cuts into their lane. Instead they have an overwhelming need to control their girlfriend—how she dresses, where she goes, and whom she talks to. That's why, before they actually start using physical violence to stay in control, they are often constantly phoning and text-messaging her so that they know exactly what she is doing at all times. They most likely grew up in a home where there was violence. I know Pete did. His dad hit his mom. They think it’s okay.”

  Izzy pointed her finger at the camera. “It’s not,” she said. “It’s not okay!”

  “And when you say you didn’t know where to go—your mom wouldn’t take you in?” I asked.

  “No, that was never an option,” Izzy said. “My mom was mean to George too, in other ways. She is a drunk. This poor little boy! None of this is his doing. I brought him into this world. Carlos and me, I mean. We were so much in love, everything felt so right. Until everything went so wrong.”

  “So what now?” I asked.

  “We are living in my cousin’s basement,” Izzy said. “And I am working in her salon. It’s not a bad setup, at least until I can save up and find us a place of our own.”

  “What about Carlos’s family?” I asked. “Couldn’t you move back in with them?”

  “It’s just Carlos’s dad and his brothers now,” Izzy said. “I don’t think they ever really forgave me for moving in with Pete. Like I was desecrating Carlos’s memory or some bullshit like that. I guess they thought I should be the lonely widow my whole life. Well, I probably will be now, right?”

  “Any advice for our audience?” I asked.

  Izzy’s expression looked wise beyond her years. “Stay in school!” she shouted. “Go to college! There’s plenty of time to have babies once you are done with school.”

  TWENTY TWO

  “WELCOME TO Real Teen Moms BROUGHT TO YOU by Luci Video,” I said into the camera. “Yay, videos!”

  “Joining us today from Ft. Pierce, Florida is Aleecia Rivera.” I scanned through the notes on my iPad. “Aleecia was fifteen when the condom broke on prom night. She has a sweet little baby girl, named Mia. How old is Mia now?”

  Aleecia sat nervously in front of her web cam holding Mia in her lap. She was still carrying probably an extra ninety pounds of baby weight and looked much older than sixteen.

  “Hello?” Aleecia’s voice wavered. “This is Mia.” She held her up. “She is thirteen months old.”

  “So what about the baby-daddy?” I asked. “What happened to him?

  “Kyle?” Aleecia said. “He is in Tallahassee. He wants to be a good daddy but we are not together anymore.”

  “Tell us your story,” I coaxed.

  “Um, yeah—well, like you said,” Aleecia said. “Kyle was a senior and he came into my work one day—I work as a cashier at Big Lots. He was the captain of the football team and I was so excited that he knew my name! I couldn’t believe it! And then he asked me out; we used to take long walks on the beach. And then he came to my church several times—I sing in the choir you know? And then he invited me to his prom and I was so excited! I didn’t know that he had rented a room at a motel where the after-parties were being held. But I drank too much—I got pretty drunk that night. I think I passed out on the bed. I really don’t remember too much about that night. Kyle told me later that the condom had fallen apart.”

  “Then what happened?” I asked.

  “My momma was mad as hell,” Aleecia said. “She grounded me and then when I found out that I was pregnant, she drove me to an abortion clinic in Orlando. There were protesters and everything.”

  “But you decided to keep the baby?” I asked.

  “I loved Kyle and he loved me,” Aleecia said. “It just didn’t feel right to kill our baby. And Kyle said he wanted to marry me.”

  “What did your mother think about that?” I asked.

  “Well, you know my mama got pregnant when she was a teenager and she kept me,” Aleecia said. “It’s not what she wanted for me, obviously, but we are happy, the three of us.”

  “Kyle wanted to marry you?” I asked. “What happened?”

  “He wanted to do the right thing. He never knew his daddy and he wanted our baby to have a daddy. And then his mom threw him out so he and his little brother moved into my mom’s garage for a while. He was going to fix it up like a little guest cottage for the three of us. And then we were going to move to Nashville and take his little brother and sister with us.”

  “But that didn’t happen?” I prodded.

  “Well, then he got recruited to play football for Florida State,” Aleecia said. “So, of course, he couldn’t pass up that opportunity. But it wasn’t long after he left that I stopped hearing from him as much. He seemed to get real preoccupied, you know, with college and football and cheerleaders and whatnot.”

  Aleecia paused and leaned down to kiss Mia’s head.

  “You know that really surprised me. I thought he would come home every weekend. But it is a long drive—I know that. And he had his little brother with him. Kyle didn’t come from a stable home situation. He had to l
ook out for his little brother.”

  “Are you still in school?” I asked.

  “Yeah, I am a junior now” Aleecia said. “I stayed in school the whole time. My school has a special program for the preggos. I guess all schools have that these days? And my church choir let me back in after Mia was born. They said they couldn’t have a pregnant teen singing in the choir but they seem to be okay with me now. Although I think Father Rick had something to do with that.”

  “Who is Father Rick?” I asked.

  “He is my Pastor,” Aleecia said. “He is my spiritual advisor. He was there at Mia’s birth and he is like a father to us both.”

  “Was Kyle there for Mia’s birth?” I asked.

  “No,” Aleecia said, sadly. “He was away at school.”

  “So how are you managing everything—being in high school and being a mom?” I asked.

  “My mom works twelve-hour shifts as a home-aide taking care of old ladies but I have lots of family around,” Aleecia said. “Aunts and cousins. I drop Mia off with my cousin who looks after three other little kids. It’s not what I thought we would be doing but it’s okay. Mia is happy. I can finish school. It’s all good.”

  “What is the hardest thing about being a teen mom?” I asked.

  “Candace,” Aleecia said into the web cam. “I hope you are watching this. I am sorry that you don’t have any friends—I friended you on Facebook. Maybe it’s the difference between Boston and Florida, but I have lots of teen mom friends. I have a whole cohort at my high school. And some in my church group and one where I work—at Big Lots. We get together with the kids. I have a baby pool in my backyard and the girls bring their kids over. Mia loves the water.”

  “So what is the hardest thing?” I repeated.

  “Well, money is tight, that is for sure. I would not be here if it weren’t for my mom. I pitch in with the household expenses, but there is no way I could be out on my own. Even after I graduate high school, I will probably be living at home for years, decades, maybe.” Aleecia laughed.