Never Give Up

by Heidi Lis

  Two seconds later.

  Micah: Want me to go with you?

  Oh hell!

  Me: NO! I need to do this alone. Long over due… trust ME!

  Micah: Are you sure baby? I don’t want you to get upset… NO MORE!

  Me: I’m sure, but thanks. After a few nights with me, you might want to leave again (just kidding) XXOO

  Micah: Not funny, Elsa! Never. I want you always. Let me know when you’re done. I mean it. Not a minute later, that way I can be on my way to you. You know nothing about me anymore. Need to catch you up.

  Me: Yes, you are a bit of a mystery to me. Like where do you work? What are your favorite things? How are your parents?WOW… lots.

  Micah: Hey, no worries. We have time, baby.

  Me: Yes, we do. Okay. Off to get this over with. Wish me luck!

  Micah: Be careful, luv you pretty girl

  Me: Um… thanks. Luv you too <3

  Driving to my parents, my stomach’s in knots. I’m not entirely sure what I’m going to say to them. Calling them beforehand was a good idea since my dad had a golf date scheduled. Thankfully he canceled since he knew I was coming. Gripping the steering wheel, I’m playing out my conversation with them in my head.

  I want to shout, yell, scream, and holler. But knowing that none of that will help, I need to find a way not to get that upset. My mom asked me over and over why the urgency when I called, but I gave her no indication the reason for my visit. If I gave them an idea as to why I want to see them, they would use the time it takes me to get there to formulate a defense, it’s what they do.

  Pulling into the driveway, all of my anger I had bottled up ready to unleash on them is slowly wavering. Sitting in my car, looking at the white two story house, I feel like I’m the girl back in high school. Thirty minutes ago I couldn’t wait to get here, right now I’m dying to leave. Slamming my car door, I’m somewhat choked up knowing how differently things could have been if my parents would have just told me Micah or even Matt came to see me. All my heartache, all my pain, and yet, they said nothing. Angrily, I’m biting back tears. More upset than ever for what grief they put me through. Mentally cursing them, I unintentionally slam the front door and I’m engulfed with the smell of cinnamon rolls and coffee. Yep, my mom, is pulling out all the stops today. My two favorite things. Question is, why on earth did she make them? Perhaps her way of bribing me in some way. Well, the only thing it does it make me more upset. Maybe she was already knows my visit was going to be less than pleasant.

  Mom comes around the corner of the kitchen, smiling from ear to ear, and pulls me into an embrace. She’s a few inches taller than me, but we do resemble one another. Same hair and eye color, even the round shape of our faces. Looking at her I can get the idea how I’ll look when I’m older.

  “Hello mother, how are you?” I say placing a timid pat on her back. She’s tense, because we normally aren’t a touchy-feely family. That all changed when I was sixteen.

  She’s rubbing my back, giddy as ever. “I’m so happy you came home for a visit.” She’s pointing to the counter. “Got coffee and cinnamon rolls just for you.”

  Her over joyous welcome is a nice touch, but it’s not her usual style. Yep, she knows something is up.

  “Well, there she is.” My dad says sweetly, walking in behind me. My dad is a tall, thin man. He’s aged well. Both my parents are in their sixties, but for the most part are in decent health. He’s not built by any means, just in good shape.

  Turning my head around, I’m not sure if I want to cry or smile. “Dad.” I don’t say more than that, and he takes notice.

  Tilting his head, he draws me against him. “I’m better now that you are here. You don’t stop by much anymore.” The slight hesitant pause he had before he spoke was odd. The fact I never asked him how he was is another odd thing.

  I wonder why!

  This small talk goes on for some time. We sip our coffee, nibble on the cinnamon rolls, but time for small talk is closing… quickly.

  “Um, I need to speak with you both about something. Some of which, you may not want to talk about.” My eyes go between them waiting to see any emotion from them.

  My dad's eyebrows arch and my mother stares at her coffee, but her eyes twitch a few times.

  “Okay,” his word lingers as his eyes show slight concern. He starts tapping his finger against his coffee cup.

  “Why did you never tell me that Matt or Micah came to see me? That they talked with you, why not tell me? Why lie?” I keep my questions coming not even waiting for an answer.

  My dad’s face reddens; he’s not happy or prepared. Accusingly, he keeps his glare on me. “What lie? I told you no lies, I call it watching out for your best interests. Like always. I’ve done it before and will do it again if need be.” He said that so fast and matter of fact, it’s like he’s rehearsed it before hand.

  Damn, he’s not pulling any punches.

  Tearing my eyes from him, I ponder what my dear mother might add to this conversation. She’s tight-lipped. I’m staring at her and like always she’s avoiding me.

  “Mother, what do you have to say?” My eyes stare intently on her twitching face. She’s trying to control her emotions, like an actress.

  Sipping her coffee she seems totally relaxed. She adds a soft smile nodding her head. Finally she settles her eyes with mine. “Elsa, we do what we need to do. It’s as easy as that,” she politely says, straightening her posture. “That boy has been nothing but trouble for you.”

  With that, she’s back to sipping her coffee. The only thing I want to do is go over and slap the cup from her hands. That might help me keep her attention for once. Like always, they think they know best.

  “Like hell,” I accuse. “You want to control my life. I’m an adult for Christ’s sakes.”

  My dad doesn’t even pause; he’s on his feet in an instant. “Like back when you were sixteen? Come on Elsa, this boy is no good.” His finger is in my face when he shouts.

  I mimic his standing position with my own finger pointing at him. “Who the hell gives you the right to tell me who I can and cannot see?”

  “Obviously, we need to. Seems the only choice you can make is a poor one. Do you know the embarrassment we felt? Our sixteen-year-old pregnant daughter. Do you Elsa? Put yourself in our shoes for once?”

  I’m rendered speechless. There is no talking with these people. They don’t get it, never did. Why I thought I could reason with them was a big mistake. I can’t do this anymore, I don’t need their approval. Not sure why, or what I even hoped I would accomplish with them, but whatever it was, I’m not going to get it. I know if I told them Micah was in my life again, it would throw them for a loop.

  It’s not worth the trouble. Storming toward the front door, I hold it open, so the screen is the only thing standing in my way of getting the hell out of here. But, I pause, turn around and let my mouth have its way first.

  One hand on the door, my other is clenched tight. Not caring if the neighbors can hear me, I shout, “You know, did it ever occur to you to put yourselves in my shoes? Do you have any idea what I’ve been going through for five long years? Any IDEA?” I’m shaking with rage, but the lack of compassion in their faces, haunt me. “No, all you see is yourselves! It’s a pity, all I needed from you was compassion and a bit of understanding!” My shouting is now a whisper spelling out what I needed from them all along.

  “Listen little lady,” my dad says taking a step forward. “You have no idea what life is all about. Your little high school fling was nothing.” He dismisses me with the flip of his hand.

  “Nothing?” I’m back to raising my voice. “I loved him! I still love him, you just don’t get it! YOU should have told me he came looking for me. I should have been the one to decide if I wanted to see him or not.” This time I look in my mother’s eyes. “Not you two!”

  My dear mother is holding onto my dad’s shoulder, maybe to hold him back. “Elsa, you were always such a fool when it
came to him. You let an older boy take advantage of your innocence.” Rolling her eyes, her voice goes low. “Look where it got you. That’s not love honey, that is pathetic.”

  So not expecting that!

  Tears sting my eyes, I had no idea they harbored such horrible feelings. Not an ounce of love and understanding, no, it’s the look of distaste and pity.

  Resting against the door, I realize they stopped loving me the day I stood in this exact hall telling them I was pregnant and scared out of my mind. Seeking help and a bit of understanding—only to find none of it was the last thing I expected when I told them the news.

  “You both, to this day, just don’t get me.” I’m not sure why I feel the need to explain, but I do it. “If you had listened to me even once back then, you would have known I loved him. We were young, careful even, but I was never forced into anything.” I’m near speechless, looking at these people who are my parents but right now I realize they are nothing more than strangers.

  My dad’s posture straightens, and his look runs colder if that’s even possible.

  “Okay, miss high and mighty. What would have happened? If you would have talked to Micah? Or do I assume you have since we are having this conversation today?” He walks closer, but his voice keeps getting louder. “Did you tell that boy he left you high and dry, pregnant with his kid?” He pauses a second before an evil smirk takes over his face. “Who is the one hiding secrets now?”

  My head snaps like I’ve just been slapped, and I damn near spit fire. “I’m not hiding this, or lying to him. I will tell him when the time is right.”

  “Is that so?” My dad all but gloats as his eyes squint and his evil grin reappears. No idea why.

  “What the fuck?”

  That’s all I hear coming from behind me. It’s him—he’s here and my dad knew it. He must have seen him, and he—he set me up. Oh my God, how could he do this?

  A look of horror flashes across my face, and I gasp before my hand clamps over my mouth. I turn to see Micah and his brother Matt standing, eyes wide, with a look of shock washes over their faces.

  Oh NO!!

  “Micah.” It pains me knowing what he heard. How awful it is for him to find out this way. Desperate to get to him, I about pull the damn screen door off its hinges.

  He backs up a step, holding his hands up. “Tell me what—what the hell is your dad talking about, Elsa?” Eyes wide with shock, he keeps his eyes locked with my dad’s.

  I step forward, pleading with him. “Micah, please not now. Let's go back to my place and talk, privately.”

  Tilting his head back looking toward the sky, he’s cursing. “Elsa, tell me what. What the hell is he talking about?” His shock now erupts into anger. He’s not getting the answers he’s looking for.

  “Micah,” I cry, losing every ounce of energy I had left. I can’t fight him and my parents at the same time. The only one who will lose is me.

  Micah’s eyes widen. “HOLY SHIT, it’s starting to make sense now. My God, Elsa were you really pregnant?” Planting his feet wide apart, his hands are clenched and shaking.

  I’m not sure how anyone can go from confusion, shock and now anger in a matter of two seconds, but he sure did. What I know is my parents are not saying a word for a change. Matt is still in shock, he’s frozen to his spot, and I’m just at a loss for words. To say I’m hurt is an understatement. I’m confused and annoyed. My parents, yet again, take a hold of a situation and do what they saw fit, not caring if it hurts me in the process. It seems my feelings were never their top priority.

  Shock has set in and I’m a trembling mess. Big ugly cries escape from me as I turn to see the smug faces of my parents. Watching Micah come unglued only seems to amuse them.

  Mustering the strength, I’m digging deep to find my voice. “Are you happy now? You did this on purpose! You knew he was behind me,” I say, controlling my sobs. “I hate you both now more than ever. It was my story to tell, not yours.” I’m not only sickened, I feel more hopeless than ever before. How dare they make me feel ashamed, when all along all they have ever done is made me feel worthless.

  Micah’s still raising his voice, still shouting as shock has settled in. He’s being held back by a struggling Matt. Micah no doubt is stronger than his brother. He’s wounded, heartbroken and feels betrayed.

  “What the hell, Elsa,” he keeps saying it over and over followed by a string of, “what the fuck?”

  I need him to calm himself so he can begin to understand. My instinct is to run into his arms and hold him tight, but right now I’m afraid he’d reject me. I’m not strong enough for that today. It’s going to take a small miracle for me to fix this.

  “What do you want me to say, Micah?” I shout back with my patience starting to run thin. I’m on the brink of losing it.“Not here. Please?” I continue to beg, “let’s go talk, I’ll tell you—all of it.” Just take my hand Micah…just hear me out.

  Stretching out my hand I invite him to come with me. I need him more than ever. This is not the way I wanted him to find out. But he now knows the truth. I’m desperate for him to reel in his emotions long enough so I can explain. Oh God, I want the chance to tell him my side of this story. How can he be mad at me? He was the one who left; I was the one dealing with a baby. Surely, he will see this…wouldn’t he?

  His lips snarl, his nose flares, and he’s not backing down an inch. I can see my hope of reaching him slipping away. He’s far to seething mad to ration with.

  Dejected, he is looking at my outstretched hands like they are most vile. “Tell me right God Damned now!” His says with his lips pressed tightly, and his eyes narrowing on me. It’s not a welcome feeling. It’s potent and I’m feeling more insecure by the minute.

  The guttural roar of his voice is even more threatening with his angry stance. Standing tall, defiant, and ready to explode, he’s way beyond reasoning with. Matt is all but shouting, trying to get him to calm his ass down. Taking a glance over at my parents, they stare with a smug expression on both of their faces.

  “Hey bro,' don’t lose it now. Take a few deep breaths, and go talk with El. You two need to talk this out man.” Matt is toe to toe with his brother, forcing Micah to back down. I know Micah would never hurt his brother, but he’s not thinking clearly. I’m fearful Matt’s going to get punched in the face. Please listen to Matt, I silently pray.

  Matt’s the only adult right now, finally a voice of reason.

  Unfortunately, Micah’s not hearing him at all when he pushes back. “FUCK THAT, I want to know why the hell I never knew? Why keep it from me, Elsa?”

  He’s not stopping, he keeps pushing, but doesn’t stop for a second to hear me out. I knew he’d be upset, but not at me. If he would just take a second to step back and breathe. He doesn’t, he’s yelling at my parents, he’s shouting to the sky… and he’s back to yelling at me.

  Frustrated, hurt and getting more disgusted by the minute, I let him have it. What am I going to lose? They are all pushing me past my melting point. Micah’s anger is misplaced, it should be at my parents, not me. “Are you kidding me right now! Seriously?” Holding my hands up, I don’t even know how to deal with him right now. This nitpicking he’s doing with me is beyond ridiculous.

  “Yeah,” this time he’s dropped his shouting to a mild yell. “I guess I am.” His body relaxes some as he lowers his shoulders. Matt is standing close to him, and my parents are still on the front steps, quiet, but ever so smug looking. Their faces void of any compassion.

  Sagging my shoulders, I close my eyes tight, fighting back the sting of pain this is causing me. “You left Micah; I had no idea where you were. I found out after you left me. After you broke it off with me.”

  Opening my eyes, I’m pleading for his understanding. My throat is sore from all the shouting. I’m sure the neighbors by now have come to see what’s happening at the Winter’s household.

  My finger shakes violently as I lift it right at Micah’s chest. We are close, but I left s
ome space all the same. The moment I’ve always feared is being played out in front of my eyes. My parents are present, Micah is beyond furious and poor Matt looks confused as hell. If I could just wish myself away.

  He takes two steps back. “Come on Elsa, you could have told Matt or my parents.” This time his face and body language looks drained. Crossing his arms he appears to be in more control of his emotions at the moment.

  The calmer side of him is much more pleasant than the screaming lunatic from a few minutes ago, but he still has a sour edge to his voice.

  The husky voice of my dad startles us all. “Listen kid, you knocked my little girl up and took off. Like hell, would I let her embarrass herself, or us, with that announcement?” My dad’s distaste for Micah is rearing its ugly head, he’s even telling him how much I embarrassed them. Ouch!

  Matt’s relaxed behavior has taken on a sudden change as he’s now swearing and kicking the grass. He’s in disbelief. It’s one thing to know he has a nephew, but hearing how my parents felt towards me is chilling in itself. He’s struggling to catch a breath with his hands on his knees. He’s visibly shaken to his core.

  Walking up to my dad, Micah’s mellow mood is gone, replaced with bewilderment. “Are you serious? It was my kid you were talking about, let alone your daughter. I loved her, she was everything to me!” He says deadpan.

  Not backing down, my dad strikes back. “Funny way of showing it.” He’s pushing Micah’s buttons and I wish he would just, shut the hell up. I wouldn’t blame Micah for taking a swing at dear old dad.

  “Yeah,” Micah asks him. “You think you know me or what I had to do?… you don’t.” Turning his body, the look I get from Micah scares me shitless. It’s like he just ate something sour. “So what Elsa, you got rid of my kid… you aborted it?”

  I froze not sure if I’m mortified or shellshocked?

  I’ll go with utterly shocked. And sickened. Stumbling to my knees, I feeling like the wind was just knocked out of me. My chest constricts while I grab my throat struggling to breathe. “WHAT, you think I got an abortion?” That idea is so vile I taste it in the back of my throat. He believes that’s what I did. It must be because the look he is giving me—says it all. His anger is because he thinks I got rid of his child. Of all the things, this is the lowest I’ve ever been. Losing Micah, giving up Michael, none of it compares to how I feel right now. This is a new low.