by Teisha Mott
She had gone to bed as soon as they came home from dinner. She prayed that she would wake up and find that the past nine weeks had been a nightmare, and that she would be back at NYU, back to being Micah's girlfriend, planning her birthday weekend, back to a time when she did not remember that Jeremy Malcolm existed, back to the time when she was proudly perched on the pedestal of her parents' minds. Either that, or she would not wake up at all. Well, she was awake, and everything was the same as it had been the night before. She had a baby inside her, her parents now knew, she would have to tell her grandparents and the rest of her family, and no doubt, she would have to finally talk to Jeremy. Samantha really, really wished she had not woken up this morning.
There was a light knocking on her bedroom door. Samantha did not respond. She did not want to see anyone.
There was another knock.
“Samantha, it’s Grandpa. Can I come in?”
She winced. She definitely did not want Grandpa to come in, but she couldn’t very well tell him to go away. She sat up in bed and pulled on her glasses.
“Sure, Grandpa!” She smiled weakly at her grandfather as he entered.
“Samantha doll,” he said gently. “Your Mommy and Daddy told me what happened. Are you okay, love?” His eyes were kind, and she knew he was not going to judge her.
Samantha could not help it. She began crying again. “I’m so sorry, Grandpa…”
“It’s alright, darling,” Grandpa said. He sat at the foot of her bed and took her into his embrace. “It’s only a baby. It’s not the end of the world!”
“It’s the end of my world, Grandpa,” Samantha sobbed. “I have ruined everything! This is a disaster!”
“Oh, fiddle faddle!” Grandpa smoothed her sleep tousled hair. “This isn’t a disaster. The 1907 earthquake -- now that was a disaster, not to mention those wretched September 11 attacks. This is a baby, Samantha. Your little baby, and my great grand baby. There is no disaster here!”
“But Mommy and Daddy hate me!” Samantha tried to explain. “I’m supposed to be the perfect one. Nothing like this should ever happen to me!”
“Well, nobody’s perfect, love. Not even you. And I’m positive your parents don’t hate you. But now, tell me about this young man. It’s not that, Micah boy you have been seeing, is it? Because Grandma told me you two had broken up.”
“No, it’s not Micah.” Samantha wiped her eyes. “He went to Columbia. You know him -- or at least of him. He’s Phillip’s protégé -- the one he was going on about at my birthday dinner?”
“I see!” Grandpa nodded. “Well, at least we know he is bright and ambitious. That’s a good start. Are you in love with him?
“No,” Samantha shook her head. “That’s just it. I don’t even like him.”
“So how, pray tell, did you find yourself in this position? Was it just a random hook up?”
Samantha blushed. This was not a conversation she was comfortable having with her grandfather! “Grandpa what do you know about ‘random hook-ups’?”
“Hey, I am old but I am certainly not cold!” Grandpa pointed out. “Besides, I am retired with nothing to do all day. When I get really bored, I watch those rubbish shows on cable -- the ones on the WB that Klao and Bianca love so much, with that boy that has the creek named after him and the one with those two women who talk really, really fast. I’m hip and with it, so come on! Tell me what happened.”
She was saved from having to answer by another knock on her bedroom door. This time, the callers did not wait for a response. It was her parents. They came right in.
“Dad, we need to talk to Samantha alone,” Dr Persaud said.
“Your timing sucks, Andrew!” Grandpa stated. “I was about to get the 4-1-1!” He gave Samantha a cheeky wink, and she could not help but smile.
“I see you watch BET too, Grandpa!”
“You’ll get the ‘4-1-1’ another time,” Dr Persaud told him.
Grandpa kissed Samantha’s head as he left the room. “If they put you out, you can come live with your grandmother and me! Parents love you, but grandparents are always on your side!”
Samantha looked at her parents through huge, scared eyes.
“Stop looking at us like that!” Mrs Persaud said. “We’re not going to put you out.”
Samantha breathed a little sigh of relief.
“How are you feeling this morning?” Her mother asked, sitting next to her on the bed.
“Awful!” Samantha sniffled. “I never meant for any of this to happen, Ma! I cannot tell you enough how sorry I am.”
“We’re sorry too,” Dr Persaud told her. “And particularly sorry that you found yourself in a situation like this and instead of coming to us and letting us help you, you lied and snuck around, and got your sister and your cousins to lie and sneak right along with you.”
Samantha sniffled. She could not look at her father.
“We’re very disappointed, Sammy,” her mother added gently. “And more than that, we’re definitely concerned. This sort of behaviour – getting drunk in a nightclub, keeping things from us – that’s not you. You’re our responsible young woman; the one we never had to worry about. What has gone missing with you?”
“I don’t know,” she mumbled.
“Well you need to start working out what has gone totally wrong in your head and get it right,” Dr Persaud advised. “You’re going to be a parent and you have many big decisions to make between now and then. You have to figure out how you’re going to sort out school and Jeremy and child care…. Have you given any of it any thought?”
Samantha did not respond. Was her father for real? That was all she could think about since First Response had broken the news in the form of two angry pink lines. She had thought about it a lot. There were a myriad of solutions, but none of them seemed palatable. Since that day, all she could think of was baby, diapers, midnight feedings, incessant crying, stretch marks. And Jeremy Malcolm.
Her father sighed. “Although you thought you could do this all by yourself, and chose not to include your mother and me, my dear child, we’re going to help you anyway. Here’s what we suggest. We think you should sit out your final semester of NYU and stay right here with us!"
Samantha could not believe her ears. “Sit out?” That, she thought, was the worst idea she had heard in her whole life. Of all the ideas she had tossed around in her head - living with Aunt Phoebe, working part time at Persaud Financials so she would not have to be totally dependent on her parents or her trust fund, talking Nursey into taking care of the baby when she came home in December, the myriad of ways she would hide this baby from Jeremy Malcolm -- none of them included sitting out NYU. She would not sit out NYU. Her 18 month servitude would end in December. She would not postpone it an entire year. Nikki and Bridget would not graduate before her and she would not put off her goal of being the Governor of the Bank of Jamaica by a whole year.
“That’s right!” Her mother nodded. “Sit out, get a job, have your baby, learn to take care of it and go back to finish next year. And when you go back we might consider hiring you a Nanny because we are done raising children!”
“But – but – but…” She could not even find the words to say. “But I can’t not go back to school! I only have one semester left!"
"Well, you have more important things to worry about right now than your last semester at NYU!" Mrs Persaud pointed out. "You’ll finish, but right now your health comes first, and your baby's health. My dear, you cannot go back to NYU and be on your own up to three weeks before your due date. Babies don’t follow agendas – you were three weeks early, not to mention Andie who decided that she was coming whether we liked it or not seven weeks before she should have. You’re not going to be the girl who goes into labour in the middle of exams!”
“This sucks!” Samantha muttered.
“Yes, dear. It sucks for all of us!” Her mother responded. “But all of us, especially you, have to deal. But here’s the bright side - you have paren
ts and grandparents and a sister and a brother who love you unconditionally. Please, Samantha, take this as a lesson. Never think that you can do anything or mess up so badly that you can’t come to us, okay?”
Samantha nodded. She felt even worse now that her parents were being so supportive. She wished she had gone to them sooner as Andie and Klao and Bianca had suggested. She would have spared herself two weeks’ worth of worry.
Her parents got up to leave her room.
“Oh, one more thing, Samantha”
“Yes, Daddy?”
“You’re going to have to talk to Jeremy sooner or later. You can’t keep this from him forever.”
“I know,” she sighed.
“I know you know,” Dr Persaud said. “Just don’t take too long to talk to him. He deserves to know. Get dressed and come down. Breakfast is just about ready and Grandpa will soon start to fuss.”
***
Friday, May 30
It was like déjà vu, Samantha thought as she scanned the terrace of La Fa restaurant at the Ravi P hotel in New Kingston. Finally, after having to listen to Andie and her parents go on and on about all the reasons she should talk to him, and after Jeremy himself had phoned her incessantly for five days, she had relented and agreed to meet him at La Fa for lunch. This was not a conversation she was looking forward to having, but since it had to happen, she was going to make sure it was as quick and painless as possible. Samantha practiced in her mind exactly what she would say to him as she drove from Norbrook to New Kingston. "Yes, Jeremy I am pregnant, and as you’re no doubt aware, you’re the father, and yes, I’m keeping it."
At this point, she assumed he would try to say something - something along the lines of 'I told you the night of your birthday that I did not want you to call me and tell me you’re pregnant!’ But before he could say it, she would put up her hand and interrupt him - she practiced putting up her hand as she navigated the Rav4 around a wretched bicycle man who was bobbing and weaving in the road. "I know you don't want to have a baby. You made that abundantly clear, but in my ire..." She frowned. Did people really say the word 'ire' in common conversation. Whatever! She was going to say it. Where was she? Oh yes. Ire. "In my ire, I made a mistake with the Plan B, so there is going to be a baby, but you don’t need to feel obligated to help. I’m perfectly prepared to do this baby thing by myself, Jeremy. I expect nothing from you, so you can live your carefree life, and sleep with hundreds of women and tell your friends about it, not worry about child support or visitations, none of that stuff. I have absolutely no qualms about being a single mother!"
She imagined him about to piss himself with relief as he mumbled some unconvincing crap about being willing to help, but again she would raise her hand. "It's okay, Jeremy. Lots of Jamaican women are single mothers. Not because I’m a Persaud means that I'm going to be any different from any of them. I’ll take the year off from NYU, have our – my -- baby, and then finish up next year. After that, I’ll be back on track towards becoming governor of the Bank of Jamaica just as I have always planned!" She frowned in the rear-view mirror and wondered whether Jeremy knew anything of her plan to be the Governor of the Bank of Jamaica. Maybe she would leave that part out. In the end, she would shake his hand and politely wish him good luck at Persaud Financials, leave La Fa and head to the salon to get her hair trimmed, highlighted and flat ironed, in preparation for Grandpa’s 78th birthday party tomorrow night.
That was going to be it. After that, she would never have to look at Jeremy Malcolm again. She only hoped, as she parked her Rav4 that Andie was wrong and the baby would not be a boy. A little chocolate coated dimple-faced boy like his father. She couldn't bear to have to look at Jeremy 2.0 every day for the rest of her life. Since there had to be a baby, she hoped it would at least be a polite little girl, who looked just like her. She frowned as she scanned La Fa, looking for Jeremy. Good Lord, she hoped he was not late. She would lose her mind if she had to sit and wait on him!
And there he was. Tucked away in the far corner of La Fa's terrace. Samantha had chosen that table on purpose where no one, especially the ubiquitous TATTLER would see them. She studied him for a moment as he sat there. He did not look like ‘The Incredible Hunk’ today. Today he looked more like an overgrown ‘little boy lost’, as he fidgeted around, arranging and rearranging the table setting. She felt sorry for him. All this was her fault. She had gone down the road of perdition and taken him with her. But it was okay, she assured herself, remembering her speech. Today, she would give him his out. This was not going to be his problem. She and her baby were going to do alright on their own.
Jeremy stood as she approached the table.
“Thanks for meeting me…” He began but she cut him off.
"I didn't have much of a choice, did I Jeremy?" She snapped, not purposely being disagreeable, but not quite sure how to be nice to him without the influence of alcohol.
Jeremy was a bit taken aback by her draconian tone. She hadn’t even greeted him. He frowned and looked at her. She didn’t look pregnant. Just really, really angry. What on earth was she angry at him for? If anyone had the right to be angry it was him. After all, she still managed to get pregnant after he went out of his way to get the Plan B.
“Can I offer you an aperitif, Miss Persaud?” The La Fa waitress appeared wearing her red and black uniform along with a grin so wide that her teeth looked like a zipper, clearly pleased to be waiting on ‘Ravi P's’ granddaughter. Samantha looked at her, wondering what she had to be smiling so broadly about. No, she didn't want a stinking aperitif. She wanted the waitress to go away so she could give Jeremy her speech before she forgot it or lost her nerve.
“No thank you!” Samantha told her, really trying to be polite.
The waitress glanced and Jeremy. “Sir?”
He shook his head. “Give us a moment please?” He waited until she had sashayed away to serve another table before speaking. “So how are you? You ran off the other day before we could talk. Are you okay?”
She nodded. “I’m fine...”
“When is it due?”
Samantha did a double take. He asked her when it was due! That meant he assumed she was keeping it, which probably meant that he was not totally against the idea of a baby… Maybe there was hope. Maybe she didn’t have to do 'the baby thing' alone after all...
“December. The doctor said the 27th is term, but any time up to three weeks before that, or after...” Samantha paused to assess his reaction so far.
Jeremy dug his thumbs into his temples, trying to massage away the threatening migraine “Samantha, why didn’t you call me?”
Jeremy was going totally off script. This was not how the conversation should be going.
“What difference would it have made whether I called you or not?" She asked, feeling thrown. "What could you have done?”
“I don’t know…. Something…”
“Something like what?”
“I don’t know…” Jeremy shook his head. “I don’t understand. Didn’t you take the plan B like I told you?”
Samantha did not respond. Her silence spoke volumes.
“How could you do this, Samantha?” He was trying not to raise his voice. “How difficult were my instructions – one right away and one twelve hours later. It wasn’t heart surgery! Do you think I want to be a father?”
And there it was. Exactly the reaction she knew she would have gotten. Now they were back on script. This is what she had expected, but it didn't make his rejection sting any less. She was determined not to cry, so she channelled the other emotion that was so close to the surface these days. She got angry.
“Do you think I want to be a mother?” She retorted. “I don’t want a baby either, or more specifically, I don’t want your baby!”
“Well, guess what? Thanks to your damn carelessness and mindlessness, you have one!”
Blow two. Samantha dug her fingernails into her wrist. Her carelessness; her mindlessness. She was going to have a baby. It was
entirely her fault, and he wanted no part of it. She recalled her well planned speech. It was time to deliver it. Time to give him his out.
“Well, here’s the good news, Jeremy,” She said, sounding much calmer than she felt. “You don’t have to be a part of this. I don’t want anything from you. You had a right to know and so I’m telling you, but none of this has anything to do with you!”
“What do you mean this has nothing to do with me?” Jeremy wondered who was this strange girl sitting across front of him. “This is my child…” He sighed. “Look, I think we’re being counterproductive arguing like this. We should be talking about different ‘plan B’, like how we’re going to deal with this, and as far as I can see, our only real option is to get married and....”
Now that was certainly not in the script. That was a totally different movie all together. “What?" She spluttered. “Did you just propose to me?”
“Well, yeah. I mean, do you have a better plan?”
“Yuh mad to hell!”
"What you mean I mad to hell?" Jeremy asked indignantly. "We have to get married and do this properly. You cannot be a single mother, and I’m not going to be a part time father!"
"You just said you don’t want a baby!" Samantha reminded him.
"This isn't about what we want. It stopped being about us when you decided not to take the Plan B!"
"First of all, just so we’re clear, when hell freezes over, I’ll buy a sweater, not marry you! And since it was my decision not to take the Plan B, I’m dealing with this!”