Farah's Deadline

by Brenda Maxfield

  I stepped forward and stretched out my hand. “No, you don’t have to call.” The last thing I wanted was Dad involved.

  Sam reached out, grabbed my hand, and pulled it to his chest. “It’s fine, Edie. Go ahead and give him a call.”

  Edie nodded and headed back to the office.

  “But Sam, he’ll want to come,” I whispered against his shoulder.

  “It’s okay, Farah. I don’t mind.”

  Well, I minded. Sam didn’t know all I’d planned for the day. I couldn’t imagine Dad waiting in the car while I went in to Pete’s apartment to make wedding arrangements. The baby gave a swift kick on my right side, and I flinched.

  “What is it, Farah? You all right?”

  “The baby kicked is all.”

  Sam gave a low whistle. “Baby. Still can’t get over it.”

  “Yeah, you and a few others.” My voice was strained, so I pasted a cheery smile on my face. “Sorry for snapping. I’m nervous.”

  Edie poked her head out from the office. “He says it’s fine. Please have her back right after lunchtime. Will that work?”

  “Of course, thanks,” Sam said.

  “Did Dad say he was coming?” I asked Edie.

  “No. He only gave his permission.”

  My muscles relaxed, and my breathing evened out. “Good. I forgot my coat in my room. Give me a second, and I’ll go get it.”

  I flew down the hall, grabbed my coat, and ran back to Sam. We went outside and got into his compact car. He started the engine, shifted into gear, and turned to me, “Where to?”

  “Toward Edgemont. I’ll tell you in a minute.” I didn’t want to divulge my plan too close to the Home because I was afraid he might make a U-turn and deposit me back on the doorstep.

  “You feeling all right these days? Do you see a doctor regularly?”

  “Yeah, they make sure we do.” I paused. “Sam, I need a huge favor.”

  His foot left the gas pedal and headed toward the brake. I could tell he was nervous about what I might ask, but he must’ve heard my intake of breath because his foot returned to the gas, and we continued down the road.

  “What do you need?”

  “I need to see Pete. I need to get this settled now. I’m going to run out of time.” My voice had taken on a pleading quality which made me sound spineless, but I couldn’t think about that now. I needed to see Pete, and the uneasiness in my stomach warned me this could be my last chance.

  Sam sighed and kept his eyes on the road. “He’s the guy you said you were going to marry, right?”

  “Right. He told me he’d take care of me.”

  “Then where has he been?”

  I winced, and my jaw tightened. I glared at Sam, but he looked over at me with such protectiveness, my anger deflated like an old rubber toy.

  “I have to talk to Pete face to face. I know he’s scared, but when we see each other, it’ll be all right. I know it will. I haven’t been able to see him in forever. So please, Sam, please take me.”

  Sam reached over and squeezed my knee. “Slow down, Farah. All right, I’ll take you, but I’m not leaving you there alone. I want to meet this guy.”

  “Let me see him alone first. Please, Pete.”

  Pete glanced at me. “I’ll give you a few minutes, but I’m not leaving. I’ll wait for you in the car.”

  My breath seeped out in relief. “Okay, thanks. Yes, wait for me. I want you to.” Tears burned beneath my eyelids. I clutched the strap of my seatbelt. “After Pete and I talk, you could meet him. You’ll like him. He’s a good guy.”

  Sam grimaced. “I’m reserving judgment.”

  We pulled into Pete’s parking lot, and I scanned it for his car. Again, it wasn’t there. Why was he always gone? Sam parked the car and pulled on the brake.

  “Which apartment is his?”

  “Lower left.”

  “Okay, you have fifteen minutes.”

  I shifted in my seat and turned to him. “I may need more. I’m not sure he’s here. Can you give me longer?”

  Sam pulled up the edge of his glove to check his watch. “Half hour. You can wait here with me. I’ll leave the motor running so it’ll stay warm.”

  I shook my head. “No, let me go in. I want to be in there when he comes home.”

  “You sure he’s coming?”

  “He’s coming.” I didn’t know how or why, but I was sure.

  “Okay. But I’m right here if you need me. I’m not moving an inch until you’re back in this car.” His eyes bore into mine.

  “Okay, a half hour. Thanks, Sam.” I got out of the car and walked up to Pete’s door. To be certain, I knocked. No one came, so I found his key in the potted plant, where I’d returned it before, and unlocked the door. I flipped on the light and saw everything as it always was. I remembered the last time I’d come here with Ned and Lizbet.

  Ned.

  For a fleeting moment, I wished he was there with me. I felt stronger when he was near. Ned could sit on the loveseat and keep me talking until Pete came home.

  But Ned wasn’t there, so I sank onto the loveseat alone.

  Pete’s apartment was small, but while sitting there, staring at my knees, it felt monstrous, almost like it was a living, breathing person staring down at me. I shuddered. It gave me the creeps. I jumped up and paced around in a tight circle to the table, the mini-fridge, the window, and back to the loveseat.

  I was making myself dizzy, so I leaned my head on the frame of the window. A car pulled in. I nudged the shade slats open, and my heart landed in my throat. Pete’s convertible. He’d come home. I’d been right. I watched him climb out, his slim body as trim and beautiful as ever. The shadow of a beard covered his face, and I could almost see the color of his eyes. He moved with ease, his physique obvious even through his padded winter coat. He was… laughing?

  Then I saw her. She got out of the car on the other side and laughed too. Her long, wavy red hair was like mine and fell well below her shoulders. She was tall and slender, and her face reflected complete happiness.

  Panic rose through me. She wasn’t in the plan. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to be. I plastered myself against the wall, and my eyes darted around the tiny space, searching for an escape. I rushed to the narrow door by the fridge that led outside. I’d never used it but I thought it went to a back patio. I rattled the knob, but it wouldn’t give. By now, they had to be coming up the walk. I shook the back door then noticed the lock. I twisted it and pulled the door open. The frigid air grabbed me, and I rushed through, slamming the door behind me. I panted, swallowed, and tried to catch my breath.

  I heard them enter, and their laughter floated out to me. Who was she? Was she his new girlfriend? Was she pregnant, too? I shook my head. I was being stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

  The tiny square patio I stood on was surrounded by a five-foot chain-link fence. I couldn’t see any gate. What kind of a deal was this? Was I going to have to hurdle the fence to get out of there? Sam had to have seen Pete and the girl enter. He had to be wondering. If he came to the door and knocked, and the other girl answered…

  I put my hand over my mouth, and the fuzz from the yarn of my gloves scratched my lips. More laughter. Listening to it, a rage took hold of me, and I shook as if the earth itself trembled. What was I doing, hiding outside in the ice like a fool, while he sat in there, joking it up with his new girl? Had I gone insane? Disgust at myself closed my throat.

  I swirled around, grabbed the door knob, and burst my way back into Pete’s apartment. He and the girl were curled around each other on the loveseat. When Pete saw me, his mouth fell open, and his face became ghoulish. I clamped my lips tight to keep from screaming like a hyena.

  He scrambled off the couch, and his jerking action toppled the girl to the floor. She cried out and jumped up.

  “Who are you?” She stared at me and rubbed her shoulder as if in pain. “What are you doing here?”

  I didn’t answer, but instead turned my attention to Pete.
Anger pressed in on me, pushing against my head, my throat. Pete flinched and took a step back. “Farah, what…?”

  I stormed across the room and shoved by him to stand in front of the redhead. She could be my twin. A choked groan passed my lips, which enraged me further. I needed air. I rushed out the front door, leaving them both frozen in place.

  I smacked into Sam, and he grabbed me. “Farah, stop. Stop.”

  I pushed against him trying to free myself, but he wouldn’t let go. Pete had rushed to the door behind me.

  “Farah,” he called. He stopped short and stared at Sam. “Who are you?”

  “Her brother.” Sam let go of me, and confusion flashed over Pete’s face.

  “You’re Sam?” His voice was raw with shock.

  Sam took a step closer, and his fist tightened. He was going to hit Pete.

  I ran from them both, and the loose gravel in the parking lot sprayed out behind me. Tears blurred my vision, but I kept going, not stopping until I reached the end of the next block. I couldn’t run any more. I bent double, gagging as nausea clogged my throat. My gasps made high-pitched squeaking sounds as I fought to stay on my feet.

  My vision cleared, and I grasped the pole of the stop sign next to me.

  “Farah!”

  I peered down the street and saw Sam running to me. I kept gulping air. Sam reached me and pulled me into his chest. I put my arms around him and held on.

  “It’s okay, Farah. It’s okay.”

  I cried against his coat.

  “Come on, we’re going back.” Sam walked with me, holding me tight against his side as we made it down the street. “Pete got rid of the girl so you can talk.”

  I jerked back. “I won’t talk to him.”

  “Yes, you will. We came here to talk, and you’re going to talk. The girl has gone.”

  My mind jolted over his words. The girl. Has gone. The girl. Who looks like me. Has gone.

  “You’re going to talk, and I’m going to stand outside his door and wait.”

  We were back at the apartment’s parking lot. Pete stood in the doorway, his face contorted into an expression of dread. He seemed shorter.

  Sam’s body tensed as he gave me a gentle push forward. “You’ve got five minutes. Ten minutes tops.”

  Pete backed into his apartment, and I followed. He shut the door and turned to me. We faced each other, and my stomach recoiled as I saw both fear and pity in his eyes.

  There was no trace of love.

  “Sit down. Please.” Pete sat on the edge of the loveseat. He ran his hands up and down his thighs, and his fingers trembled. “Come on, Farah. Sit.”

  He plucked at the ends of his T-shirt and attempted a smile.

  I sat. My whole body ached, and all I wanted at that moment was to crawl into bed somewhere and fall into a stupor, and then when I woke up, I wouldn’t be pregnant anymore and I could live my life again.

  Pete stared down at his shaking hands. “I’m sorry, Farah. I thought you understood.” His defensive tone grated over me like sharp nails.

  “Understood what, Pete?” I blinked at him through my tears. “Understood that you said you’d take care of me? Of our baby?” My voice was brittle, and the broken pieces fell to the floor.

  He took in a huge breath and held it.

  “Well?” I asked.

  “I’m sorry. I couldn’t do it.” His breath seeped out like a slow leak.

  “You couldn’t do it? You couldn’t do it? But you have no choice!” My voice went up the scale with each syllable. The room wasn’t big enough to contain my words. I wrenched myself off the couch and faced him.

  “Farah, sit down. Please.” He glanced up at me and his hands continued to shake. He shook all over. “We did have a choice. But you wouldn’t take it.”

  “Are you insane? That was no choice. You wanted me to kill our baby. I could never, never, never do that.”

  “So you told me a hundred times.” He fixed his eyes on something beyond me, and his mouth clenched into a small line. The sounds of my rasping breath filled the room.

  He sighed and brought his attention back to me. “No, you’re right. I shouldn’t have asked you to get rid of it. It was wrong. I’m sorry.”

  I swayed and pressed my feet against the floor, willing myself to stay upright. What was he saying? That he was glad I hadn’t gotten rid of the baby?

  Pete shook his head. “I thought I could help you, but I can’t. We’d never make it.”

  “You don’t know that.” My voice grew hushed.

  “Yes, I do.”

  “But you won’t even try. Can’t we try?” My dream split open as surely as if someone hacked at it with an ax. If I talked fast enough, I might still be able to save it. “My brother Sam is back with me. You saw him. He would help us. I know he would. I could move in, and he’d come visit and help with the baby and maybe even give us money.”

  “Farah.” Pete’s tone was sharp. “Stop. Just stop. Listen to me. I don’t want to try.”

  I crumpled onto the loveseat. “What do you mean? You don’t love me anymore?”

  I wanted to slap him silly, but suddenly I felt too weak to even move.

  It was like I’d vacated my body, and the real me hovered near the ceiling. I watched myself beg like a wind-up toy and cringed as each word spilled from my mouth. Who was that pathetic pregnant girl down there? Was she listening to her own words? Didn’t she hear what she was saying? I went from cringing to wanting to weep. Poor little sad girl, sitting there begging.

  I snapped back into myself. I became acutely aware of my surroundings, and the sounds of my breath echoed off Pete’s postered walls. The fridge hummed, and the florescent light over the stove buzzed. Pete’s look of discomfort dragged every feature into a scowl. I tumbled headlong into his mood, and the suffocating sadness made it difficult to breathe.

  I inched back, away from him. We stared at each other.

  And the truth slammed me in the face.

  “You don’t want me. Or our baby.”

  “No.”

  “It’s over.”

  He nodded. “It’s over.”

  I wanted to gather my unborn baby into my arms and wail. I wanted to cry my plight into the wind. I wanted to float up into never-never land.

  I wanted to kill Pete.

  “You’re slime.” I bit out the words.

  “Yes.”

  In a daze, I stood and walked to his door. How was movement even possible? I was gliding, and my feet barely touched the worn carpet. I straightened my shoulders and grabbed the doorknob with such finality my throat seized up. My graceful movements stopped. I jerked open the door and walked out into the daylight. Sam was leaning against the car. When he saw me, he jolted upright and came toward me. I reached out my hand. He took it and led me stumbling back to the front seat. He helped me in and shut the door.

  On the way back to the Home, neither of us said a word.

  When we pulled up under the portico, Sam parked the car in the drop-off zone, and we both got out. I didn’t tell him he shouldn’t park there. It didn’t seem to matter.

  Nothing mattered.

  Edie was standing in the living room when we came in. She seemed surprised to see us back so soon, but when she noticed my face, her surprise turned to concern. Sam shook his head at her, and she stepped back and said nothing.

  Sam pulled me straight to the den, and we sat down. Lizbet and Ned were on the opposite couch.

  “Farah, I thought you’d be gone most of the day,” Lizbet said. She searched my face and her smile faded. She stiffened. “What happened?”

  Sam sat right at my side, his leg touching mine. “Trip got cut short. No big deal.”

  He was protecting me, and I loved him for it. Ned hadn’t taken his eyes from my face. Lizbet’s gaze darted around the circle, and I knew she was trying to figure out what had happened.

  On the outside I was still, but inside, my mind whirled like a helicopter blade.

  How could I le
t go of a fantasy that I’d nursed for so long? And it was a fantasy. Today proved it. I saw my dead dream in such sharp reality that the broken edges pricked my heart. I’d been a fool. Months ago, my ex-friend Emili told me I wouldn’t get my fairytale. I didn’t want to believe her then, and I didn’t want to believe her now. But she’d been right.

  Horribly right.

  “Farah, you okay?” Lizbet asked, her voice gentle and quiet.

  “She’s fine,” Ned said, his eyes still on me. “Farah will always be fine. She’s strong.”

  Our eyes locked, and I was surprised to read pride in his gaze. He smiled, an almost imperceptible movement, but I saw it.

  I took a deep breath and turned to Lizbet. “Your brother’s right. I’m fine. I’m always fine.”

  Sam squeezed my knee.

  I put my hand on top of his. A swirling mass of emotion twisted inside my mind. It was time. Past time. I knew what I had to do. What I must do.

  My voice grew strong and decisive. “I want to talk to the Millers.”

  Lizbet sucked in air, and her gasp circled around each of us.

  “Lizbet, would you please tell Edie to call the Millers? I want to talk to them.”

  Her eyes grew huge as she rose from the couch. “The Millers? Are you sure?”

  “Yes, yes, I’m sure.” The tension in my shoulders lessened, and in a quick second I understood why I’d been so strangely drawn to them the day Jasmyn’s baby had died. Something deep inside me had known even then.

  Ned’s brows drew together. “Who are the Millers?”

  Lizbet bent close to him and whispered, “Jasmyn’s adoption family.”

  Ned’s eyes flashed to mine, and he tilted his head. I read the question on his face.

  I gave a small nod.

  “Farah.” His voice was soft, tender.

  That was all he said. Just my name — but something between us shifted and clicked.

  “Ned,” I whispered back.

  Sam grabbed my hand. “Does this mean what I think it means?”

  I looked at him and nodded again. “It’s over. My fairytale died. But maybe the Millers can still have theirs.”