The Day We Met

by Dusti Bowling

  “What are you looking for?” I asked, looking around at all the spring clothing they already had out.

  “I really like those peasant shirts, you know?”

  “Yeah, that would look nice on you.” I fingered a cute tank top and sighed before moving on to something else.

  “Here they are,” she called out, motioning to a large wall covered in peasant shirts. “Which one do you like the best?”

  I shrugged, barely looking at them.

  “Come on. You have to help me pick it out.”

  I breathed in deeply and breathed out, making a motorboat sound with my lips. “How about that one?” I pointed to a pink shirt with green embroidery. “Your favorite colors.”

  “No, I don’t like it.” She pulled out a white one with blue embroidery. “How about this one?”

  “I like that pattern a lot, and the tie at the top. But it’s kind of poofy.”

  “I don’t care,” she said. “That’s the style. Poof is in.”

  “Now you’re just trying to make me feel better.”

  “I’m just going to try this on,” she said, grabbing one of every size. I followed her toward the dressing room where a girl wearing ripped tights and a mini-skirt let her in. I waited outside the door so I could evaluate her modeling skills when she came out.

  I gazed around the store, wishing I could be like one of the carefree girls browsing the racks, hanging on their boyfriends, and… I lost my train of thought as I caught sight of Brittany on the other side of the store.

  Ugh, I thought. I wasn’t in the mood for her right now. I stared at the dressing room door, desperately wanting Heather to come out. As though I had actually made her come out using some kind of Jedi mind trick, she burst out of the dressing room in her peasant shirt.

  “I like it,” I said. I shot a quick glance at Brittany meandering our way and scanned the store for escape routes.

  “What’s wrong?” Heather asked, following my gaze. “Oh her,” she mumbled, pulling me into the dressing room with her. “So what do you think of my shirt?”

  I looked at it more closely this time. “I do like it,” I said. “You should get it.”

  “Okay.” She changed back into her sweater. “I’ll go buy it with my new plastic,” she squealed. “And you make a run for it. I’ll meet you at the food court.”

  “Sounds good,” I said. “But that girl is like a bloodhound. She’ll probably smell me on my way out.”

  Heather bit her lip. “You know I don’t like to talk about other people, but well…” I could sense her internal struggle with what she was about to say. Finally, with great conviction, she raised a finger and announced. “That girl is just not very nice.”

  I smirked. “Brutal, Heather. I’d hate to be on your bad side.”

  “Get out of here!” She shoved me out of the dressing room door.

  I glanced around, trying to find a clear path out of the store when I saw her again. Only she wasn’t alone; she was with Aidan. And she wasn’t just with Aidan, she was with Aidan. So much for losing interest in girls he had already slept with.

  I started to walk around the perimeter of the store like a coward, hoping they wouldn’t see me, but my anger got the best of me. Who the heck did he think he was? Just pretending like nothing had happened. Just pretending like there was no baby.

  My plans for covert escape forgotten, I marched through the racks of clothes until I was standing in front of them.

  “Lenna,” Brittany said in a surprised voice, but I ignored her. Aidan looked at me nervously.

  “I thought you might like to know I had an ultrasound this morning,” I said, staring at Aidan. “The baby’s coming along real nicely.”

  I heard Brittany gasp. “I knew you were pregnant.” She pointed an accusing finger at me.

  I clucked my tongue. “Just thought I’d let you know, daddy-o.”

  I knew it was obnoxious, immature, petty, and that I had officially announced my pregnancy to the whole school. But it was all worth it for the look on Brittany’s face and the shouting I heard as I left the store.

  ~ ~ ~

  “I can’t believe you did that!” Heather called out as we drove home in her clunky station wagon. We had to speak way above normal volume to hear each other in her cacophonous car.

  “I know,” I agreed, smiling and taking another sip of my smoothie—mango with a prenatal booster in it. The smoothie lady had looked surprised at that one. “I wish you could have seen the looks on their faces.”

  “Yeah, you couldn’t wait just two minutes for me, could you?” She laughed. “Well, I guess everyone will know by tomorrow.”

  “Yep.”

  “Does that bother you?” She took a sip of her own berry smoothie.

  I sighed. “I have more important things bothering me right now than what the whole school thinks of me.”

  She nodded. “I guess you do.”

  I looked around, confused. “Are you lost? We’re completely going the wrong way.”

  “I’m just taking the scenic route.”

  I looked around at the strip malls, gas stations, and apartments. “The scenic route in the opposite direction?” I eyed her carefully.

  “Stop being a backseat driver,” she snapped.

  I shrugged and took another sip of my smoothie. I didn’t care if we were lost. Actually, getting lost sounded appealing for some reason.

  Heather pulled into the parking lot of a familiar restaurant—one I hadn’t been to in years. “Perfect Pizza?” I asked. “Why are we here?”

  “Lenna.” She looked so sad. “It’s your birthday.”

  I looked down at my hands. “It’s March first?” I said quietly. “I thought it was still February.” The month that wouldn’t end.

  “Your mom is so worried about you. I know you’re depressed, and I wish there was something I could do for you. I know there’s not, and there’s a group of people in there waiting for you. I’m so sorry.”

  I shook my head. “No, I can’t go in there.”

  “It’s supposed to be a surprise, but I didn’t think you would take it well, considering you didn’t even know it was your birthday. So I’m telling you now. But please, please, go in there with me. I know you don’t want to, but it would make everyone so happy.”

  “Not me!”

  “Lenna, it might do you some good to be around people other than your mom. And, I don’t want to put pressure on you, but you can’t leave them all in there waiting for us and not show up. That would be so selfish.”

  No, she was right. I couldn’t do that—not to my parents who had been undeservingly patient and understanding with me since this whole disaster had happened. “Okay,” I conceded.

  Heather nodded, but she didn’t smile. “Okay. Let’s go.”

  I emotionally braced myself for the ambush as we entered the restaurant. I immediately spotted our large table covered with balloons and gifts I didn’t deserve.

  “Oh, no,” I whispered. “My grandparents are here.” I felt that sick, nervous feeling again. I hadn’t seen them since all of this started, and now I felt like I had to go through another big confession. And in a restaurant on my birthday no less. I felt like I was going to vomit.

  As soon as my mom spotted us, she shook my dad vigorously and they yelled out “Surprise!” with an echo of surprises called out after them. I forced a smile and started going down the assembly line of hugs. First my parents, then Pastor Ted, then Mr. and Mrs. Jacobson, then my grandpa, then my grandma, who cried while she hugged me, and I knew with great relief she already knew. She kept squeezing me and sobbing until I looked over at my mom and rolled my eyes.

  “Mom, don’t hog her for yourself,” my mom said, coming over and prying her off me. She put her arm around me, as though to protect me from other potential attacks.

  My grandma wiped her eyes and smiled sadly. “I’m just so happy to see you.” She started sobbing again. “You’ve changed so much.”

  I let out a frustra
ted sigh, and my mom called out, “Let’s eat!”

  My dad sat down next to me and patted my back. “Happy Birthday, sweetheart. How’s it feel to be seventeen?”

  “Considering I didn’t even know I was seventeen today,” I nudged my dad, “I guess it feels pretty much the same.”

  We scarfed down the pizza with light conversation. Midway through the meal, I realized Pastor Ted didn’t know I was pregnant, and I was grateful for that. I was also grateful that no one discussed my pregnancy, letting him in on it at this inopportune time.

  “So, Lenna,” Pastor Ted said, a piece of pepperoni in his hand. “How’s school going?”

  “Good.” I glanced at Heather, but she was being pestered by my grandparents.

  “Are you coming on the camping trip in June?” he asked. Despite having gone to the auction in December and my best intentions, I hadn’t gone to youth group or any other event since. I just couldn’t stand to face the other kids there, to face Pastor Ted, to face Will, who I’m sure was grateful for my staying away. I also hadn’t gone to church with my parents, and they hadn’t forced me. I guess they figured that forcing an unwilling person to go to church was no better than not going at all.

  “I can’t,” I said, looking at my mom for help.

  “We’re going to be very busy in June,” my mom explained, not exactly lying. “I’m sure Lenna will explain everything to you when you two get a chance alone.” She looked at me. “Right, Lenna?”

  “Yes,” I said, but I was exactly lying.

  He nodded and didn’t push the subject.

  We finished up our pizza while my mom busied herself lighting the candles on the cake. I could see she had made it herself as she always did. It was slightly lopsided, but the decorations were pretty, and I could tell she had spent a lot of time on the flowers and butterflies sculpted out of fondant.

  “It’s beautiful, mom.” I put my arms around her from behind.

  “Thanks, sweetheart.” She placed a hand on my arm. “It’s a little lopsided.”

  “It’s perfect,” I said. “It’s more than I deserve.”

  She turned to face me. “That’s not true.”

  My family and friends sang Happy Birthday to me while I played the obligatory role as the embarrassed center of attention. They finished the song, and I blew out the candles but didn’t make a wish. I didn’t believe in wishing anyway.

  While we ate our cake, of which I hogged down three pieces, I opened my presents. My grandparents handed me a card, a hundred dollars inside. I hugged them and thanked them for the money. Next I opened Pastor Ted’s gift, a book containing daily devotions for teenagers. I thanked him for the gift, knowing I wouldn’t read it—at least not anytime soon.

  “It’s a good one,” he explained, opening the book for me. “You can just start on March first and go from there.”

  I nodded. “I’ll do that.”

  Heather excitedly handed me her gift next. I reached into the gift bag and pulled out the peasant shirt she had just bought at the mall. Everyone oohhed and aawed over it, but I looked at her, confused and not wanting to say I knew it wouldn’t fit me. After all, Heather wore a small.

  Heather discreetly reached inside the shirt and showed me the tag—large. “I thought it would be nice for spring,” she said. “Do you think it will fit?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. Thank you.” I gave her a hug and put the shirt back in the bag.

  Next I opened my parents’ gifts: a pair of sandals, perfume, and what some people at the table thought was a baby doll dress. Upon further inspection they would have seen the Mama Love tag inside. I was ready to enter spring, still at least a month away, in all my fatness.

  I thanked everyone for the nice gifts and the party and gave my parents a tired look. “Well, I think it’s time to get home,” my mom said, hugging Heather’s parents and moving down the line. “Thank you everyone so much for coming.”

  I hugged Heather and whispered, “Thanks for the shirt, you little sneak.”

  She smiled. “Sneaky like a secret agent.”

  “More like a dork.” I laughed.

  Next I gave Pastor Ted a hug. As I drew away from him, he said, “Why don’t you come by and talk one day? I’d love to catch up with you on all that’s been going on in your life lately.”

  “Okay,” I said, knowing I wouldn’t.

  I moved onto my grandparents, and my grandma sobbed uncontrollably again as she hugged me. “Grandma,” I said impatiently, rolling my eyes.

  “Take care of yourself, Lenna,” she pleaded.

  “I will,” I said. “I’m happy your hip is better. And thank you again for the money. That was really generous of you.” She nodded as I squirmed my way out of her grasp.

  “That’s enough, Catherine,” my grandpa said as he stroked my head. “We love you, Lenna.”

  I put my arms around him. "You too, grandpa.”

  “Be a good girl,” he whispered into my ear.

  I nodded and kissed him on the cheek.

  We finally got out of the restaurant, and I collapsed onto the backseat of the car, completely drained. I couldn’t wait to get home and stare out my window into the darkness.

  “Did you have a nice time, sweetie?” my dad asked, looking back at me in the rearview mirror.

  “Yes. Thank you for everything.” I stared out the window. “Did you invite Will?”

  My mom looked back at me. “I tried calling, but no one answered the phone.”

  I pressed my forehead against the car window. Funny—the same thing happened every time I called.

  “How could he do this to me?” I muttered a long while later, thinking my parents couldn’t hear me.

  My mom sighed and tapped her fingernails against the cold, foggy window, leaving tiny dots all over it. “He’ll come around.”

  “What?”

  “Will,” she said. “He can’t stay mad forever.”

  “Oh.” I scrunched down in my seat, knowing full well I should just keep my mouth shut, but it was like I was looking for a confrontation. “I wasn’t talking about Will.”

  My mom looked back at me. “Who were you talking about then?”

  I clenched my teeth together as I readied myself for the argument I was instigating. “God.”

  My mom glared at me for a moment before turning to face the windshield again, stiff and cold. “You made your own choices, Lenna. Don’t blame this on God.”

  My dad finally joined in the conversation. “God doesn’t make young, unmarried girls have sex. Actually, I believe God made up some kind of law against it.” He eyed me in the rearview mirror. “He wrote it down on some tablets or something like that.”

  I rolled my eyes at him. “I know I made my own choice,” I said, not wanting to become emotional but doing so anyway. “But he’s punishing me for it.”

  “Stop pitying yourself,” my mom said, her voice flat.

  “I’m not!” I burst out. “I don’t feel any pity for myself. I hate myself!”

  “Lenna!” my mom shrieked.

  “I do!” I cried. “And so does God. He’s so cruel.”

  “I don’t ever want to hear those words out of your mouth again,” my mom said, leaning over the console now, practically in the backseat with me.

  I stared at my mom, wanting to say something else bitter and mean, and nothing would have stopped me, could have stopped me, except my dad’s sad, disappointed eyes in the rearview mirror.

  ~ ~ ~

  I woke up the next morning, worn out and beaten down. I didn’t feel like going to school. I never wanted to go to school anymore, and my grades reflected this. Although my parents were checking my work every night and helping me through my homework, I just didn’t have the concentration or motivation to pay attention in class. So when tests and quizzes came around, I bombed.

  I looked out my bedroom window and grunted. It was so dark outside I doubted the sun was truly behind those gray clouds somewhere. A slow drizzle of icy rain came down from the
m, and the last thing I wanted to do was go out and get iced.

  I shuffled downstairs, still in my pajamas, and was getting ready to announce my intentions of staying home in bed all day when the phone rang. My mom sat frozen at the kitchen table, so I ran to pick it up.

  “Hello,” I said, barely audible.

  “Hi. This is Laura from Dr. Levin’s office. Is this Mrs. James?”

  I grunted.

  Laura continued, apparently taking my grunt for a yes. “We received the results of Lenna’s amnio and ultrasound. Dr. Levin would like you and Lenna to come in today to discuss them.”

  “When?” I asked hoarsely.

  “As early as possible,” she said. “We’re going to close as soon as we can because of the storm.”

  “Now.”

  “Okay,” Laura said. “I put you down to be here in a half an hour then? Is that all right?”

  I nodded.

  “Is a half an hour from now all right then?” she repeated.

  “Yes.”

  Chapter 13

  “What a nasty day.” I stared out at the icy rain beating down on everything around us.

  If I were a weather pattern, I would be an ice storm.

  “Yeah,” my mom agreed. “It’s a good thing we’re going in so early. We might not be able to drive in a few more hours if this ice keeps up.”

  “I know it’s bad, mom.”

  “What?” she turned to face me, taking her eyes off of the hazardous driving conditions outside.

  “Whatever is wrong with the baby,” I answered. “I know it’s something bad.”

  “Sweetheart, we don’t know anything yet.” She turned her attention back to the icy road.

  “All this going back and forth, the ultrasounds, the amniocentesis, the priority we’ve been given for appointments… it’s something bad.”

  My mom sighed. “We’ll know when we know. Right now, we know nothing.”

  I continued to watch the thin layer of ice as it formed on everything, making trees and telephone lines look like they were made of crystal. It wouldn’t be long before that beautiful blanket of crystal would bring down those tree limbs. “I know.”