by Heidi Lis
Through tear filled eyes, I drift my gaze between each and every one of them. Matt, who I thought might understand me the most, looks uncomfortable at best. His eyes look helpless. My mother is chatting in my dad’s ear. I don’t even get their attention it seems. Then lastly, I hold my breath to look directly at Micah. He’s detached from any emotion, he simply is studying me. My look, my body language, any sign or clue.
Eyes raised, he roars, “Well, where is my kid then?”
It’s hard not to hate him with everything I got right now. I understand he’s dealing with emotions he has no clue how to handle, but he keeps pushing me and pushing me. If we were alone, that would be one thing. But, to do it here with my parents…it’s not the right time or place for this.
Oh My God! His lack of having a normal conversation with me pisses me off. Like now, he’s carrying on with his theatrical groaning, and continual questions. He never pauses enough for me to answer. Okay, Micah you want it right now…well fine!
On wobbly legs I go to stand. “Fuck you, Micah. Maybe if I knew how to get in touch with you, I would have told you. I had NO ONE! NO, ONE!” I scream so loud, my damn throat cracks. I can’t keep up with wiping away my tears, so I let them fall. I’m focused on enlightening Micah. He wanted this. “I was ALL ALONE, my parents were embarrassed by me, their daughter. I was forced to live with my aunt for six months. I had to give him up for adoption and then return home to tell everyone I was on a six-month vacation.” Retelling my past feels like it should be someone else’s horrid past, but sadly it’s mine. Makes it that much more vile.
“Jesus Christ,” Matt says under his breath.
“What the hell?” Micah can barely form the words. “This is so fucked up.” He wipes his face with his hands, in disbelief, and shock most likely
“All this time…” He stops mid-sentence, searching my eyes. He’s looking for the right words to say. I can see the fight in his eyes. He wants to comfort me, but he also needs to come to terms with the fact he has a child. He’s just not handling the news well.
Throwing his hands in the air, he shakes his head. Anger washes over him once again. “I’ve got to get out of here,” he says flustered, anxious even. “Elsa, you should have gone to my parents. If they had known you had MY BABY, they would have helped you.”
I can see him struggling but the idea I should have gone to his parents is idiotic I was sixteen…not twenty-one.
“Like hell, boy.” My dad finally speaks again, like he hasn’t done enough damage already.
The tone of his voice, sends shivers down my spine, and the only thing I can do is close my eyes. I halt my next few breaths. It’s like a firecracker was lit under Micah, he’s going to explode. This cycle is getting us nowhere. What’s the point.
“You,” He’s enraged, pointing his finger at my dad. “Shut the hell up! Because of you I never knew I had a baby. You bloody hell should have called my parents. I blame you for this shit.” He’s not done as his attention swings back to me again. “Elsa I’m so pissed at you. I don’t get why you did not go to Matt or my parents. Fuck Elsa, a baby?” One minute he’s furious, outraged, and more upset than I’ve ever seen him. Then, all of a sudden when he’s finished shouting, a look of loss and remorse takes hold with the way his shoulders curl over his chest. He’s conflicted and overwhelmed, that I can understand, but yelling and blaming me is just too much.
God, my patience is running thin hearing the same thing from him.
Matt again tries his best to calm his brother’s manic behavior. “Hey man, getting mad at your girl will not help. You’re angry, and understandably so, but put yourself in her shoes, brother. Don’t forget you left her without her knowing all the facts.” Ah! A voice of reason in this madness.
“She should have been open and honest with mom and dad, Matt. She decided not to, this is on her and her parents. Who gives them the right to make that decision on my part?” Micah’s jerky movements about gives me whiplash. One minute he’s talking with his hands, then he changes direction.
A part of me understands where he is coming from, but I wish he could understand how I feel. I hope after he has time to clear his head, he will. Why am I more understanding than him? The only thing I can think is the fact I’ve lived with this for so long? He’s only had a few minutes, and he never had a chance to have a voice in what happened to his child. The fact he keeps talking like I’m not standing right here though, is pissing me off.
He keeps going between Matt and my parents, back and forth this and that. It’s like I’m watching a ping pong match. Blame is being thrown around, and now Matt is joining in on the blame game. I’m a bystander at the moment, watching this train wreck play out before my eyes. The sad thing is my name is being tossed around in their arguments, it’s like I’m not even around.
Clearing my throat, I want his attention. “I’m right here, look at me Micah,” I edge my way closer to him.
“Not right now Elsa, not right now.” He’s still visibly shaken staring at the ground instead of looking directly at me. I’m not getting anywhere, it seems he’s more interested in this back and forth with my parents.
My dad’s non-stop insulting Micah, with the help of my endearing mother it only upsets Matt more. Which leads to more shouting and yelling between them.
I wonder if they would notice if I left, most likely not. “Screw you all, NONE of you understand what I went through. I’m the one who was pregnant… alone… at sixteen. I had my baby ALONE.”
“Our baby.” He says remorseful.
I have no problem looking Micah in the eyes, but for some reason he has an issue doing the same with me. Too bad.
“Yeah, our baby, but where were you?” I whisper, trying to make my point as calm as I can. His eyes wince but never leave my mine, this time.
No, answer.
I keep going.
“That’s right, not with me. No, you took off, with no more than a few words with why. So why, would I go to your parents? Why, Micah? I had no one. My parents, were embarrassed with their daughter. They were cold, calculated and shipped me off like luggage only to return broken and very much lost. You know what I got when I got home… not a damn thing, no hug, no, I love you’s. I got shit, it was as if it never happened. How do you think I felt?” I kept my tone as calm as I could, the sadness in my eyes desperately trying to reach Micah.
The way he’s looking at me, it’s as if he wants to hug me, but he doesn’t. It’s his brother that breaks up our silent moment when no one dared speak.
“Oh, Elsa,” Matt says to console me. Not Micah.
My parents have stopped their insults, instead they are glaring at me like I’m out of my mind. Micah’s staring at the ground with his hand behind his neck. He’s struggling, hell if he only knew how much we all were. I’m looking at each of them, stunned no one is saying a word. Wow, I’m not sure what I expected, but this sure wasn’t it. This time standing right next to Micah who is next to Matt.
“Okay, not a word huh? Let me ask you something, do you know why no one knows, Micah? NO one cared enough to ask me. I had my baby alone, not one visitor, no one. No words of wisdom, no shoulder to cry on. The doctors and nurses wouldn’t even look me in the eye, the whole time. I had a beautiful baby boy. But before I could hold him, even get a good look at him, they took him from me. I was not allowed to see or hold him. I had my insides ripped open, scared and wanting to fucking die.”
Peering off in the distance, no one says a word. I take the chance to tell not only Micah but my parents as well since they never bothered to ask me themselves.
“I had one nurse who took pity on me, felt so sorry I had no one who cared enough to sit with me. A sixteen-year-old scared girl should never have to face that, alone. She put her job on the line and brought me a baby in a pink hat, that night. Crying and scared, she told me they put him in a pink hat so I would NOT know it was him. Shitty right? But she let me hold him, feed him and spend some time with him before the agency c
ame and took him the next morning.” I’m completely wrecked, and exhausted retelling my story.
“That is so fucked.” It’s all Micah says. So I keep going.
“I named him…I named your son.” With my head held high, I proudly tell him. My parents never even knew.
He gasps. “What?” The pain and sorrow is apparent with his tight jaw, and harsh squint.
“I named him as he held my finger. I even took a picture. He was the most beautiful baby boy, ever.” My voice cracks at the same time my chin quivers.
My mom’s eyes fill with tears. “Elsa, you never told us?”
Yeah, I wonder why?
“Why the hell would I?” I turn in disbelief to face them. “You disowned me the minute you found out. You made me give him up, I had no say.”
My mother huffs. “For God Sake Elsa, you were sixteen years old. You knew nothing about raising a child.” My mother’s voice cold as ever. My new nickname for her is the ice queen.
I’ve heard this so many times. I’m rubbing my eyebrow like I’m warding off a headache. I sigh. “Maybe so but the way you both treated me, it was awful, and I’ve never forgotten or will ever forget. I hate what you made me do. Especially the way you treated me when I needed you the most.”
Micah’s not only agitated with me but my parents, too. He stares at me for a long moment breathing heavily. His voice cracks, “Why, Elsa? I just don’t understand why you did not go to my parents? You were so stupid not to. They would have helped you. They would have called me. And you and I could have our son RIGHT NOW.”
I flinch with the intensity and resentment in his voice. But right now, he’s pushed me too far.
“Stupid! What the hell do you know? Stop asking me why I didn’t go to your parents.” Trying to release some of my tension, I roll my shoulders. I know this will hurt him, but oh well. “You fucked up, you left.”
“I HAD TO, I had no choice.” Micah finally admits.
And here I go.
“And I HAD to give up my baby, I had no choice.” I don’t back down. I square my shoulders and stand tall. Hell you had no choice, but then again either did I!
“I don’t know what the hell to think or feel?” Micah’s pacing back and forth, talking with himself.
I’m incapable of calming him right now. If I stay things will continue to the point of one of us will say something we will both regret. To say I’m angry, hell yes I am, but I’m also heartbroken.
Biting my lip, I’ll help him out. “I’ll make it easy on you. GO.TO.HELL.”
Stomping my way to my car, I don’t even take one last glance at my parents. Over my shoulder, feeling dejected, I hollar, “All of you…can go to hell.”
THROWING MY CAR in reverse, I can see Micah yelling at me to stop. I think he’s realized he has pushed me too far. I pay no attention to him or my parents who stood in the same spot, just staring at me as I drive away. Matt is the only one looking up at the sky, searching for answers he most likely will never find. I should know I’ve done it for years.
Screeching my tires, my anger has me so worked up my body is trembling from head to toe. I so badly want to yell, hit something, or just drown myself in vodka. Any of the three would work, but the idea of liquor numbing this crushing feeling in my chest seems to be the winner.
Growing up in Cedar Rapids, Iowa does not leave much to choose from when it comes to bars. After driving around for what seems like forever, I ended up at a dive on the South part of town. The Pink Safari, an out of the way place with pink flamingo’s decorating the outside seemed liked the perfect place to drown myself. No one would think to look for me here. Micah and I need time to cool off. Only then can we talk rationally. Right now, emotions are at an all time high. He needs time to process this, alone.
My damn phone was blowing up with calls and messages. Walking into the bar, I glance once more at my phone seeing it’s Micah’s missed calls and texts. With a shake of my head, I press the off button. When I wanted to talk, he didn’t. Now he wants to talk, and I don’t.
Swearing under my breath, I head for the bar to grab a seat when I’m greeted.
“What can I get ya, little lady?” What a voice it was, I glanced up to see a real life cowboy, no shit. Hat and all, he looked the part.
Amused, and completely surprised, I sigh, “Gin and Tonic please.” Never would have guessed a cowboy would work in a place with pink flamingos’ but hey, who am I to judge? I get a hot cowboy to serve me drinks. Lucky girl.
Smiling he slaps his hand to the bar. “Yes ma’am, coming right up.”
Mixing my drink, I just watch cowboy go to work. My mind suddenly wonders, where was this guy years ago?
“Here ya go, sweet thing.” Placing my drink on a napkin, he slides it to me until my fingers touch his.
“Thank you.” I whisper.
“You okay? Looks like you’ve been crying? None of my business, but sure hate to see a cute thing like you all sad.” The sincerity in his voice is nice and a welcome relief to Micah’s shouting. I wished Micah could have spoken to me like this, hell, to know he cared would have been nice, too. I knew he’d be mad and upset, but not downright mean and cold. No way, that was just uncalled for.
Sadly, I say. “I’ve had a bit of a bad day.”
Nodding, he lifts a corner of his hat. “I’m a great listener, you need to let it out, name’s Caleb.”
Country boy through and though. His voice matches the whole cowboy theme he has going on. Watching him, I can’t help taking him in. With a voice like Garth Brooks, and a body you would expect a cowboy to have, Caleb, was hot. Tanned skin, defined muscles, tight shirt, snug jeans. Glancing over the bar, yep, even cowboy boots. Wow! Now, I do realize he knows I’m checking him out, but who gives a shit. The smile he’s trying to hide doesn’t work so he cracks up laughing back at me.
“Thanks Caleb, appreciate it, but...” I say taking a nice long drink, letting it burn my throat, “You don’t need to hear my sad story. No reason we both need to be feeling down.”
“Way I see it, I need to cheer you up. You need to be smiling, not crying. Assume over some dick, am I right?” The twinkle in his questioning eye draws out a chuckle.
Nodding, I agree. “I will admit, I do feel better after talking with you for all of five minutes. You must be a miracle worker, because if you would've seen my mood just before I walked in these doors,” I say pointing toward the door. “Well, let’s just say I was ready to hit something or someone.”
“Pfft, if that’s what you need, take a swing my way. I’m a big boy, I can take it.” Caleb says with a sexy wink.
Instantly, I spit my gin out. “See? Miracle worker. I thank you for that… sir.”
“Ouch, Sir. No.No.No. That will not do…Caleb will work just fine. Sir would be my father, and he’s not here.” He says with a wink.
“Caleb, you are a sweet talker, aren’t ya?” I say with a meek eyebrow raise.
He chuckles. “Been told that a time or two, I guess.”
Small talk continued for several hours, along with several more drinks. More customers came and went and a group of what I assume are Caleb groupies came in half dressed, giggling like school girls. Rolling my eyes at their attempt to flirt, he kept ignoring them, laughing with me instead.
“Wow.” I mouthed to him as the girls kept at it.
Walking next to me, he leans against the bar. “Yeah, got my own groupies, haven’t you heard? Sweet thing, I thought you would become one of them.” He’s flirting and bites his tongue between his teeth while raising both eyebrows at me, waiting for me to respond.
Taking another drink, I only shake my head. “Pfft, no way, dear Caleb, you seem to be doing just fine. I am in no way the type of girl you need.”
“Now, I beg to differ with you on that.” Pressing his lips together he moans…out loud. “I would say you are exactly my type of girl.” Leaning into my space, with both of his arms are lying on the bar, he keeps moving toward my face. This is not what I n
eed right now.
I’m halfway to not giving a crap about my shitty mood or the disaster of my life at the moment. I have this hot looking cowboy who is being nice and flirty with me. To him I’m not a disappointment, not a failure, not a bad person. I am just a sad, cute girl he is making smile with every glance and wink. To hell with it, I’m going to play along. I need to laugh. No harm done, just friendly flirting back and forth.
An hour later while I continue to watch Caleb serve drinks, I stupidly reach for my phone. I’m bored, so I turn it on. I’ve lost count of, the number of drinks I’ve consumed and looking at the time, I see it’s way passed dinner. Shit, I missed lunch, too. No wonder I’m close to being three sheets right now. Barely able to roll my eyes, I sway to the music that is playing on the sound system. My cowboy Caleb, is playing a favorite song of his, I would assume. Garth Brooks’, Friends in Low Places has me singing and rocking side to side. Paying no attention to him, I see twenty-seven missed calls from Micah, twelve missed calls from Liza, and ten from Nick. Lord almighty, I have thirty texts, mostly from Micah. Wow…and nothing from my parents. Go figure!
“Whatcha’ doing, sweet thing?” Caleb appears next to me, sitting at the bar stool on my right, smiling from ear to ear.
“Oh, looking at the bitch fest who is trying to figure out where I am.” I slur my words laughing. I know none of it is funny, but right now, I can’t help laughing.
Glancing down at my phone, he sees a text message from Micah. Pulling it toward him, he reads it.
“Wow,” he whistles, “this Micah seems really worried about you?”