“How’s that?” he said.
He wasn’t being too rough, and anyway, her scalp ought to be tough from years of Dutch rubs. But she grimaced and said Ow! because it did hurt.
It surprised her how much it hurt.
Sally waited at the bottom of the sand dune at Tunnel Park, beside the wooden-slated fence that ran along the pitted sidewalk. The place was quiet, forgotten, now that the chill of fall was in the air. Eventually she wandered, too nervous to stand still. First into the cool dampness of the tunnel, where her steps echoed off the wet, grafitti-covered walls. Then through to the expanse of gray blue water, where seagulls, shrill and complaining. swooped overhead. Finally over to the boarded up snack shop, to a wobbly picnic table worn bare by loitering teenagers. She sat down reluctantly. Where the hell is he?
Next to the building was a chain link fence marking the end of the park. And there was the tree Sally remembered so well. The first time she saw it, the trunk had just begun to grow into the fence, its bark bulging through the chain links, looking like a burnt waffle. Sally was always sorry for it, as if it were in pain. The tree was still there, the fence now completely embedded in its side. Absorb and move on.
When she heard the sound of Cash’s car, she sat up straight and tried to breathe normally. He parked, leaped out, and came toward her. Striding. She was sure of it. It gave her the wild idea that they might go into the bushes and make out. But when he got close to the picnic table he stopped abruptly and put his hands on his hips.
“Hey,” he said with a flip of his chin. As in get to the point.
She looked at him. “I’m pregnant.”
He grimaced like she’d told a bad joke. His mouth opened, then closed. He shook his head.
“You’re what?”
“Jeez! Why does everyone make me repeat it?”
He came closer. “Are you sure?”
“I’ve been to the doctor.”
Now he seemed stunned. “But…”
“You don’t love me, do you?” she blurted. It wasn’t what she planned to say.
“Love?” Like it had never occurred to him.
“Yeah, you know. Intense feeling. Like you want to be with someone. Like you care.”
“I care,” he said.
“Then where have you been?”
“You know I’ve been working. With your dad.”
She frowned. “He’s not my dad.”
“He calls himself that.”
She was startled. “He talks about me?” Silly, she felt like she’d been given a compliment.
“He doesn’t know about us, if that’s what you mean.”
Us, like they were a couple! For a moment she felt the way she had in Cash’s car, driving to Kalamazoo, when she had believed everything would work out so perfectly for her.
It wasn’t too late.
“Haven’t you wanted to see me?” she asked.
He looked away a moment. “I thought I’d give you some time.”
“Time for what?”
He shrugged. “You know, to work out your family stuff.”
She stared at him.
“You know. Like who your dad is gonna be. Stuff like that.”
As if she could just decide! She wished it were that simple. But she couldn’t make up her mind about anything. Big stuff, such as, whom did she love? Who deserved a second chance? And little stuff, like when to use the word dad.
“Why are we talking about this anyway?” she said.
“I’m just saying I work with the guy now. It would be a little awkward, okay?”
“I’m telling you I’m pregnant! That’s about as awkward as you can get!”
Cash started pacing around. “Jesus,” he said finally. “Are you sure? Are you really absolutely sure?”
Sally nodded and he smacked his fist against his hand. “Damn it! I can’t deal with this now.” He spun in a little circle, like he was looking for a way out.
“Sorry,” Sally said angrily. “Is this a bad time? Did you get a scholarship to Harvard? Hey, I know! NASA called and they want to send you to the moon. Or did you get drafted?”
“That’s not funny. What if I am drafted? You’re lucky I’ve got such a high number.”
“You’re right,” she said. “I’ve never felt so lucky.”
He looked hurt. “If that’s the way you feel I’ll go volunteer right now. Go get my head blown off. That make you happy?”
“Calm down. I didn’t mean it.”
He put his hands in his hair. “This is totally fucked up. I gotta get my head around this.”
“I didn’t think you’d take it so hard.”
“Why not? You think I’m such a scumbag? You think this sort of thing happens to me all the time?”
She looked away. Okay, maybe she hadn’t thought that exactly, but something close to it. Mostly she’d thought of how her own life would be ruined.
“Lots of people would like to believe it,” he said, “but… I’ve got my job. I…I can find us a place to live.”
So he had thought of her! A person doesn’t say something like that unless there’s been some thought.
“I’m only sixteen!” she said. But it could happen. They could get married with their parents’ consent. Would she have to ask Pastor Voss for his permission? Or Richard? She had his last name. Maybe legally he was responsible for her. She might be stuck with both of them. Imagine, Pastor Voss performing her wedding. Richard walking her down the aisle. It was almost funny, except that Cash was looking wild-eyed and distraught and far from funny.
“What do you want me to say?” he cried.
“I want to know if you love me! We’re supposed to be in love. That’s how it was supposed to happen.”
“So you want me to marry you, is that it?”
“What do you want?”
“I sure as hell don’t want to get married while I’m still in high school! And if you say you do you’re crazy.”
“I just don’t know how you could…” she stopped, not knowing what to call what they did. Had sex. Made love. Or, the worse, fucked. “How you could…do that with a person and then just disappear?”
His eyes searched the sand dunes, the parking lot, looking at anything but her. “I should have come sooner. I wanted to. But I didn’t want you to think…” he trailed off.
“What?”
“I didn’t want you to expect too much.”
Oh. She was a fool.
“I told you I didn’t want a girlfriend. You knew that!”
“That was before you...” There was that damn word again. “Oh, what do you call it?” she asked, exasperated. “What do you call what we did?”
He looked at her strangely. So he thought she was a lunatic. So he was finding out he didn’t like her at all. Didn’t she know it would happen?
“You mean in casual conversation?” he said. “Like when I’m chatting with your dad?”
“You don’t have to be sarcastic. I just want to know, what was it to you? Sex? A quick lay? Were we making love?”
He groaned. “God no. We’re teenagers. We were screwing around, that’s all.”
That’s all.
“I’ll tell that to the kid,” she said.
“For chrissake, I’m sorry! God, my parents are going to kill me!”
It seemed he might cry. Sally didn’t expect that.
“You don’t love me, do you?” he asked suddenly.
Or that.
“What if I do? What if I said I loved you the minute I saw you behind the counter at the Texaco? What if I said we should get married?”
She didn’t mean it! But please, for once, couldn’t she be the one to walk away?
“I’d say your hormones have got you thinking all crazy-like,” he said. “You don’t know anything about me.”
As if that was all love was! Knowing facts or history. She didn’t know much about her father either, but—she saw it now—she loved him. The shock of it was electric, especially since the person
she was thinking about was Richard. All the years she’d spent wanting him must have somehow changed her cells, until he truly was a part of her. More biological than Pastor Voss.
Did that mean she’d decided?
And what did that mean for her baby? For her and Cash?
She tried to pick her words carefully. “Have you ever thought that these things happen for a reason? That maybe love is just choosing someone?”
He looked her straight in the face. “No,” he said, and it felt like cold water. They’d never looked at each other like this. Not even in his car, when their faces were touching. Looking into someone’s eyes and not having to look away, was that love? Because she couldn’t do it.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “but we’re not playing house here.”
He was right. He couldn’t be any kind of father. Any more than she could be a mother. Anyway, it wasn’t the baby she wanted. It was him. Or if not him, then someone.
“You might not need to tell your parents,” she said.
“Why?”
“I can go to Grand Rapids and, you know, take care of it.”
His face went slack. “You’d do that?” he asked.
“Believe it or not, Voss would take me,” she said. That’s what she’d call him. Voss. And Richard would be Dad. It was only a matter of deciding.
Cash stopped in front of her and rubbed his hands together.
“I’m not sure how I feel about that,” he said quietly.
She didn’t know why, but this made her angrier than ever. “Nobody is sure about anything!” she said. “But if I’m going to do it, I’ve got to go on Saturday. I don’t want anyone here to find out.”
“I’ll come with you.”
Maybe she could marry him. Wasn’t he a decent guy? Why’d he have to be so decent after she made up her mind?
“No,” she said. “I have to go alone.”
“Why?”
“It’s supposed to look like a party. Girls only. I have to wear a magenta dress.”
“Jesus,” he said. He seemed to consider this. “I don’t even know what magenta is.”
“It’s like pinky-purple, I think. Or red.”
“Are you scared?” he asked. “I mean, how do you know it’s safe?”
“The doctor has been doing it for twenty years, I guess. The pastor knows him.”
“How much does it cost?”
“Three hundred dollars.”
He whistled. “Holy shit.”
“Lenny gave me most of it. Pastor Voss is paying the rest.”
He shook his head. “Lenny? This just keeps getting weirder. I’ll pay him back.”
“He won’t take it.”
“Then I’ll give you the money and you can give it to him.”
“Where am I supposed to say I got it?” she said.
“Say what you want. I want to pay him back.”
“What about Voss? You want to pay him back too?”
He thought a moment. “Nah, screw him. But Lenny. Where would he get three hundred bucks?”
Sally shrugged. “I didn’t ask.”
“So that’s that, huh?”
Panic seized her.
“Cash? What’s going to happen with us?” Embarrassed, she went on. “I mean, will we go to the movies and hold hands? Should I have you over for dinner? Or do we act like, you know, nothing happened?”
He stuffed his hands in his pockets and shuffled his feet.
“You want me to buy you a teddy bear or something?”
She saw he was serious.
“No thanks.”
He nodded a moment, then gave her a long look. “I’ve got to get to work. You want a ride?”
She shook her head and watched him go, thinking I had sex with him! Over and over like a drumbeat in her head. But the truth of that was already fading. Replaced by this: one day far from now Cash might pass her on the street. If she was with someone who loved her, truly loved her, say a husband, or maybe a father, she might point and say See that guy? He once got me pregnant. That someone would stop and stare. Say that again?
But she wouldn’t. She was so tired of repeating it. Besides, the more you say a thing, the less it means.
Nell
It’s difficult to hear yourself described in certain terms—irresponsible, unprofessional, lacking judgment—when you know yourself to be the exact opposite. Just as you know that the more you protest, the more desperate and guilty you appear. Besides, actions alone tell the truth. Hadn’t Nell been reminded of that when her eighth grade friend Mary—the last real friend Nell had—bragged about being such a great cook, and then right in front of Nell put a half-eaten sandwich in the refrigerator with no plastic wrap covering it? See, Nell saw these connections where other people didn’t. So she didn’t say much when Sergeant Van Zandt said she was being suspended from her job for two weeks and suggested she think about the qualities required of members of the Auxiliary Police Department. She knew she’d have to find some way to prove herself.
Mandy’s case was her best chance. She had an appointment at the Department of Human Services that very day.
If only she weren’t feeling so down. Normally a mood like this could be improved by writing in her diary, but she’d given that up. Its orderly lined pages infuriated her, implying as they did that life’s events could be strung together in a pleasantly slanted line, I’s dotted, T’s crossed. Writing her thoughts down would not change the fact that the house was a despicable mess, what with her mother picking up extra shifts at the plant, and Sally moping around, lazy and weepy. Worthless, actually. As if she were the only one humiliated by what happened at the banquet. Not caring that Nell had not been to church since that night. That she’d probably never go back. That she’d lost the one thing that gave her strength.
She went to the bathroom to brush her hair before heading over to the city services building. There, leaning against the faucet, was an envelope with her name on it in Sally’s writing. Puzzled, Nell took the letter into the living room and opened it.
Dear Nell,
You’d better sit down because I have some news for you and it will be a shock. I have thought long and hard about whether to tell you this and I finally decided that although you are mostly a pain in the butt (here Sally had drawn a dopey smiley face) you are my sister and you should know. So here it is. The reason I did not come home that night is I was with Cash. I let things get carried away, and by that I mean that I went all the way with him. I know what you’re thinking and since you will already hate me for this, let me warn you it gets worse. I am pregnant. Yes it is for sure. Mom took me to Dr. Maas. So you see I don’t really have the flu. The final piece of news is that I am not going to have the baby. Pastor Voss is going to take me to a special place in Grand Rapids to have the procedure. Do not try to talk me out of it because it is what’s best for me and it is my life. Sorry, Nell. I have messed up good. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but you don’t have to bother yelling at me either. I already know.
Love, Sally.
Nell’s hand flew to her heart. The news was like the blast of a shotgun, delivering not one stinging wound, but a rash of them. Sally had sex. Sally was pregnant. She was planning…an abortion?
She sank into the sofa, seeing things she didn’t want to see. A dark car and a boy’s long sinewy arms. Sally’s head thrown back. Revulsion flooded her, followed by this: What was it like?
She shuddered, ashamed and confused.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen! First Nell would get married and have her wedding night. Then she would sit on the edge of the bed and have a sisterly talk with Sally about sex. She’d tell her what to expect when it was her time. When she was married. Nell would tell her how beautiful it was. God promised that. But there was nothing beautiful about being sixteen and doing it with a greasy long-haired mechanic.
And what was this about Pastor Voss?
Instinctively she reached for the phone. She had to talk to her mother! She had
to hear it from her! Why didn’t you tell me? she’d ask.
She stopped. Had the pastor told Prudy about the terrible scene with Nell in his office? She imagined him and Sally and her mother sitting in the back booth of some empty diner off the interstate, crumpled tissues littering the table, their coffee turning cold in untouched cups, making a pact to keep Nell out of this. Sally saying You know how she is. The pastor murmuring in agreement. Such a good heart, but her expectations are just completely unrealistic. He and Prudy exchanging a glance.
How dare he have any part of this!
Oh, she wanted to strangle Sally! How could she do such a thing? She felt it personally, as if Sally had said Oh yes, Cash, let’s have sex! It’ll drive my sister crazy! Did she for a moment consider Nell or their mother or her Christian upbringing? At what point did Sally decide that nothing else mattered but her own selfish desires?
And, a baby! The idea that Sally was capable of having a baby was as surprising as seeing a dog twirl on its hind legs wearing a tutu. It was a trick you might see on television, some glassy, far-away possibility. Your own dog was never more than just a dog, fleas and all.
As for abortion, she couldn’t even think of that without a sort of veering off, panicky feeling. No one Nell knew would ever consider such a thing. And anyone who would consider it was someone she didn’t want to know.
She couldn’t let her go through with it, that much she knew. But how would she stop her?
Nell looked at the letter again. I don’t expect you to forgive me, Sally wrote. Tears sprang to Nell’s eyes because Sally was right. Nell couldn’t forgive this. In her heart she would always know that her only sister—the sister Nell was meant to have, the one Sally was meant to be—was gone. That’s how final it seemed. Like Sally was forever lost.
Nell followed a receptionist down a dingy carpeted hallway to a room marked Mrs. Van Dam, Department of Family Services. She was here to talk about Mandy, but all of that seemed strangely distant in light of this latest bombshell. She had a folding-in sense that brought to mind the time she saw, on television, a building being demolished. Though the sound was turned down, she would swear the room she was in vibrated as, on screen, foundation and façade gave way and walls imploded in a graceful, relieving collapse.
Hello Loved Ones Page 30