Pregnant at 17

by Christine Conradt

  “Is she sick?” Chelsea wasn’t sure how kittens were supposed to act but this one seemed rather sleepy.

  “Nope. But we’re keeping her here until she’s old enough to adopt out.”

  “How old is that?” Chelsea asked as Hope settled deeper into her arms and began to purr. She loved the way it felt next to her—so soft and fragile. And she loved that she could make it feel comfortable enough to just fall into a deep slumber. This kitten is so vulnerable and yet so trusting, she thought. It believes everyone who holds it will keep it safe. Hope has no idea what kind of place the world really is.

  “Twelve weeks,” Sonia announced, and went to a drawer on the far side of the room. She pulled out a white liquid and began to prepare a bottle for it.

  “Is that milk?” Chelsea asked.

  “Kitten formula. It’s easier on their tummies. Some vets will let kittens go at eight weeks, but I like to wait until twelve.”

  “So young,” Chelsea mused.

  “Have you ever had a pet before?” Sonia asked as she handed Chelsea the little bottle. “Put a drop on her lips and let her lick it off, then squeeze just a tiny bit at a time.”

  “No pets. My dad didn’t want one,” Chelsea said as she fed Hope. She was careful not to put too much of the formula on Hope’s pale-pink little lips, determined to prove she could follow Sonia’s instructions.

  Sonia stood up and started to pack items into her black leather bag: latex gloves, antibiotic wash, and gauze.

  “What’s that for?” Chelsea asked.

  “It’s my vet bag. I keep it in the car in case I come across injured animals as I drive.” Sonia filled three empty syringes from a small bottle and capped them.

  “That’s medicine?”

  “Tranquilizer. Some animals, when they’re hurt, are in so much pain that they’ll bite and struggle if you try to touch or move them. One of the doctors I work with here was bit really badly on the hand by a dog that had been hit by a car. Had to have surgery to repair the damage. Anyway, I only tranq them if I have to. The majority realize you’re trying to help.” Chelsea couldn’t help but wonder if Sonia viewed her as one of the many stray wounded animals she’d saved.

  “Maybe we should take her with us tonight. . . .”

  “Who? Hope?” Chelsea lit up, unable to contain her excitement. “Can we?”

  “I’ll go get a box,” Sonia said and exited, leaving Chelsea alone with the kitten. She looked down at Hope’s soft round belly and almost imperceptible little claws that would appear and disappear as she kneaded her tiny paws against Chelsea’s hand. There was something wonderful and scary about the responsibility of taking care of this little thing. If someone didn’t bottle-feed it and keep it warm and safe, it wouldn’t survive. It depended completely on her to make all the right decisions.

  At least she had Sonia to tell her what to do. Sonia not only knew how to raise a baby animal to adulthood, but she could bring it back from the brink of death. The way Sonia had come in and taken command of the situation with Cody blew Chelsea away. She’d been so calm, so in control. When they’d first arrived and heard that dog whining in pain, Chelsea could hardly stand it. Her heart rate shot up and all she could think to do was beg the universe to let the poor thing live. But not Sonia. Sonia stayed cool and collected as if it were the most natural thing on earth. I wish I could be that way, Chelsea thought as Hope, now starting to doze off, stopped licking the formula from her lips. I wish I could just always know exactly what to do like she does.

  Once again, Chelsea wondered how she was going to raise a baby, if the thought of taking care of a kitten seemed overwhelming. Surely she would be able to manage, she thought. After all, women all over the world did it every day. But Chelsea couldn’t quite silence that little voice of doubt that had taken up residence in her head.

  Hope slept in the corner of her box, nestled in a little blanket the entire ride from the clinic to Sonia’s house. Chelsea glanced down at the kitten a few times to make sure she wasn’t being jarred by the occasional bumps in the street, and the rest of the time she spent staring out the window. Finally, after a long silence, she spoke.

  “I wasn’t at the bar to try to find a guy or anything,” Chelsea said. She could tell by Sonia’s reaction that the statement seemed like it came out of the blue, but it really hadn’t. Chelsea had been trying to think of a way to explain to Sonia why she decided to call the number on Jeff’s card even though she knew from the wedding ring on his hand that he was married. She wasn’t sure why at this moment she was struggling with guilt again, but she was.

  “Okay,” Sonia said.

  “You know, my dad started bringing me with him to the bars when I was little. He wasn’t there the night I met Jeff or anything, though. I don’t really like hanging out at the Lucky Lady but, I don’t know, it’s still better than just being home by myself. Does that make sense?” She looked over, hoping to gauge Sonia’s reaction. Sonia just nodded.

  “I can understand that.”

  Chelsea expected Sonia to say more but she let Chelsea continue. “There’s a bartender there, Rascal, who has always kinda been like a big brother and watches out for me.”

  “That must make you feel good,” Sonia said casually. “Having someone look out for you like that.”

  “For sure,” Chelsea said, opening up a bit more. “I used to get so scared being home alone. Especially after the thing that happened with Mikey. For a long time I had nightmares that Greg was trying to get into my bedroom to kill me. In the dream, I would try to get my window open so I could get away but it was stuck. I couldn’t lift it up at all.” Chelsea paused. “Anyway, I just don’t want you to think I was out trolling for some rich guy or something.”

  “I didn’t think that, Chelsea.”

  “When I first met Jeff, I guess I liked him because he was different from most guys. I thought so, at least.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He had on nice clothes and didn’t make any gross sexual comments or anything. He just seemed . . . classy. And nice. But the truth is, I knew he was married. I asked him about it on our first date. Why he wasn’t wearing his ring. He had it on the night I met him. But that’s the thing. I knew. When I decided to call him, I already knew and that didn’t stop me from picking up the phone and dialing his number and I don’t know why it didn’t.” Chelsea waited for Sonia to tell her how inconsiderate and selfish that was, but she didn’t.

  “Do you think you’re responsible for breaking up our marriage?” Sonia asked. That was it. That was the thing Chelsea couldn’t bring herself to say. Now that Sonia had said it, the guilt doubled. I need to say it out loud. I need to be honest and admit that this whole crazy situation started with me deciding to call a married man.

  “If I hadn’t called him, I never would’ve seen him again. So yes. I guess I did.”

  “How do you know he wouldn’t have come back to the bar looking for you?” Sonia asked. Chelsea hadn’t thought of that. There was certainly the possibility Jeff could’ve done that.

  “Look, Chelsea,” Sonia said slowly. “You didn’t break up our marriage. Jeff did that. Jeff’s the one who took the vow to be faithful to me. Jeff’s the one who broke it.”

  “I’m still sorry. You’re a good person. You’re letting me stay with you and you save animals and . . . well, you deserve a good guy.”

  Sonia smiled at her. It put Chelsea at ease. She didn’t know how Sonia could not harbor even an ounce of hard feelings for her. But somehow, she was able to see everything that had happened in an objective way and Chelsea was grateful.

  “You deserve a good guy too.”

  When Chelsea heard that, she knew she’d made the right decision in trusting Sonia. She’d never felt this sort of a connection with someone before. Sonia had come into Chelsea’s life at a time she felt the most lost. Maybe her mom had pulled some strings from the other side, finding someone who could give her daughter guidance when she couldn’t. Maybe the universe just
provided it to pregnant teenage girls without them having to ask. Regardless of how it all came about, Chelsea wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

  Chelsea’s thoughts were interrupted when Sonia’s SUV pulled into a driveway, and she took in her surroundings. Holy crap, she thought, staring up at a huge structure with immense windows tucked under pointed eaves. The double front doors sported twin wreaths made of intertwining branches and bright red berries. This is where Jeff was when she would talk to him on their late-night phone calls. This is what he would come home to after their dates, their clandestine meetups in various boutique hotels. It seemed surreal. She’d pictured his house many times, imagined coming home with him after some office party for his work, after they were married. But she’d never pictured it quite like this. This house was much bigger and more stunning than the one she’d created in her mind.

  Pulling the kitten from its box, she snuggled it up against her neck and stepped out of Sonia’s SUV. Grabbing her worn overnight bag from the back seat, she followed Sonia up the front walk, past the row of small hedges that lined the stone path and to the front door.

  The inside was even more impressive than the outside. Chelsea stepped into the foyer and looked up at the glittering chandelier that hung from the ceiling high above their heads.

  “You can just leave your bag there by the stairs if you want,” Sonia said, picking up the mail from a narrow glass table and sifting through it. “We can take your stuff up later.” Cuddling Hope close, Chelsea set her bag down on the marble floor and walked with Sonia through the living room and into the kitchen.

  “If you put Hope down, she’ll explore the kitchen. Just keep an eye on her so she doesn’t go too far.”

  “Sure.” Chelsea gently set the pint-size cat down on all fours. Wobbling a bit, and overcome with excitement, Hope meandered around the room examining every inch.

  “If you want to cut up the tomatoes, you can do that, too,” Sonia said. Glad to have something to do, Chelsea washed her hands while Sonia pulled out the wooden cutting board. “Knives are right there.” Sonia nodded toward a big wooden block sitting on the counter.

  Even the knives are expensive, Chelsea thought as she pulled one with a serrated edge from the block. Chelsea turned to take a peek at Hope who was playfully batting at Sonia’s purse strap, which looped over the edge of the chair. Satisfied Hope was fine, she began to carefully slice the tomatoes. Chelsea glanced over at Sonia, who looked as much at home making dinner as she did saving Cody’s life.

  “Can I ask you something?” Chelsea asked after a moment.

  “Sure.”

  “Jeff said you lost a baby. Is that true?” Chelsea tried to say it with sensitivity but she wasn’t sure it had come out right. She didn’t want to bring up something that was painful for Sonia, but she needed to know if Jeff had lied to her about that, too. Sonia inhaled deeply before answering.

  “Yes. That part is. I got pregnant a year and a half ago and I lost it.”

  “I’m sorry,” Chelsea uttered. It was all she could think of to say.

  “Thank you. At least he was honest about something, right?” Sonia wore a thin smile, trying to lighten the conversation. “If you asked me what’s the one thing I always wanted . . . it was kids.” She paused, thinking. “That was a hard time for both of us.”

  “You would’ve made a good mom. You remind me a lot of mine,” Chelsea responded without even thinking, the words coming straight from her heart. She saw Sonia smile and knew she was touched.

  “Yeah?”

  “She was a very warm person,” Chelsea continued, eager to talk about her mother. “Loved kids. She was always happy. She came here from Germany to be a nanny and met my dad. They fell in love and she stayed. She was only twenty-two when they got married.”

  “That was pretty brave of her.”

  “That’s what love does, though, right? ‘Love conquers all.’ That was one of her favorite sayings. Except in German.”

  “You speak German?” Sonia asked, intrigued.

  Chelsea nodded. “I can read it too. My dad speaks it pretty well but when he tries to write it, he misspells a lot of words.” Sonia grinned. Chelsea liked that Sonia wanted to know more about her life.

  “What happened to your mom?” Sonia asked, and turned on the faucet to rinse off a carrot. A taut feeling crept up in Chelsea’s throat.

  “She got cancer when I was two and she couldn’t have more kids after that. We thought she’d beat it but it came back five years later.” Sonia stopped cutting up the vegetables and gave Chelsea her undivided attention. There weren’t a lot of people Chelsea could talk to about her mother’s death. She rarely mentioned her mother at all to her father because he would quickly withdraw when she brought her up. It was nice to be able to talk so freely with Sonia.

  “She always said it didn’t matter—that she couldn’t have more kids—because I was enough for her. She also said that someday she’d have grandbabies. Only after I went to college and married a great guy, though.” The wave of regret that washed over Chelsea took her by surprise. “I guess if she only gets one of the three, it’s still okay. . . .”

  “That’s not really a dream that has to die,” Sonia said. “You’re still so young. . . .”

  Chelsea shrugged. In seven short months, she’d be carrying the baby around in her arms instead of her belly. That was barely enough time to get her GED. And then what? She couldn’t take a baby with her to college classes. There wouldn’t even be time for college. She’d have to pick up extra hours at Stella Luna just to pay for the baby’s diapers and food.

  “I read online that teen moms a lot of times don’t graduate and some never get married. They say it makes your life worse, but if you weren’t going to have those things anyway, you’re not really losing out on anything, right? I mean, maybe in that case, a baby makes your life better.” Chelsea put it out there hoping to hear what Sonia had to say about it. If anyone could understand how being a mom could make her important in the grand scheme, she believed it was Sonia.

  “You can have those things if you want them. I can help you,” Sonia said, and paused. “One of my favorite sayings is, ‘You can have anything you want but you can’t have everything you want.’ You should make your choice based on what you really want, not what you think you can’t have.” Chelsea hadn’t heard the saying before, but she liked it. The idea that nothing was closed off to her if she really wanted it was inspiring. And yet, there would be sacrifices she’d have to make down the road. If she decided to keep her baby, there would be things she’d have to give up, but if being a mother was really what she wanted, she could be successful at it.

  After dinner, Chelsea scooped up Hope, who had fallen asleep on the furry white rug that spanned the floor of the living room, and carried her in her box up the stairs. Sonia opened a door at the end of the long hallway and showed Chelsea her room.

  Sonia set Chelsea’s bag on the bed. Chelsea looked around at the richly appointed furnishings: the queen-size bed with an expensive duvet, oak desk with a matching chair, and double curtains.

  “There are three guest rooms,” Sonia said. “Jeff was in the one downstairs.”

  “Oh.”

  “There are towels in the bathroom and extra blankets in the closet,” Sonia said as she fluffed a pillow and turned on the lamp.

  “Thanks.” Chelsea set Hope’s box down. Sonia picked up the kitten and put her on the bed. Hope found the most comfortable spot, right in the center next to a pillow, then curled up and closed her little eyes.

  “If you need anything, let me know. I’m going to turn on the security system for the house. If any window or door opens without the code, an alarm will go off and the police are automatically called.”

  “Okay.” Chelsea sighed, reassured.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go into work tomorrow. Do you need to call in?”

  “I’m off tomorrow anyway.”

  “Okay. Well, good
night,” Sonia said.

  “Good night.” Sonia turned to leave, but Chelsea stopped her at the door. “Sonia?”

  “Yes?” Sonia turned back.

  “Thank you for everything.”

  “You’re welcome. Get some sleep.” With that, Sonia left, gently closing the door behind her. Chelsea sat down on the bed, sinking into the goose-down duvet. Here, she felt safe. Not just because of the security system that would dial the police if breached, and not just because Sonia was sleeping just down the hall and would know what to do if Greg came to find her, but because the burden of life had somehow been lifted from her shoulders, even if only temporarily. Tonight, Chelsea didn’t need to worry about anything except taking care of Hope, who snored an almost imperceptible kitten snore. She could take a hot bath and climb into the marshmallow of a bed and just let her mind relax. She pulled one of the parenting flyers she took from the community center out of her bag and began to read through it. She knew she couldn’t live here forever. Eventually, she’d have to go back to her father’s trailer, to the gelato shop, to being a single expectant teen mother who still had no idea how she was going to take care of a baby. But tonight, wrapped in the warmth of luxurious cotton sheets and protected by Sonia’s cutting-edge security system, she felt safe from the world. She had no idea where Greg Foster was, but it didn’t matter. He couldn’t get her. At least not tonight.

  Twelve

  Unjust Reprisals

  Light was streaming in through the kitchen window when Chelsea entered, fully dressed, with Hope tucked into the crook of her arm. The rich smell of coffee brewing filled the house, though after such a restful sleep, she wasn’t sure if she even needed any. Sonia looked up from her tablet and smiled.

  “Good morning. Almost noon, actually.”

  “I can’t believe I slept so late,” Chelsea said apologetically.

  “You must’ve needed it.” Sonia smiled. “Hey there, Hope. . . .” Sonia crossed the spacious kitchen and pulled a white ceramic mug from the cupboard. It matched all the other white ceramic mugs there. “Would you like some?”