Saying Good-bye to London

by Julie Burtinshaw

  “That’s good. It’s time you started taking care of yourself. You know,” her mom added gently, “put the past where it belongs. Our lives are here now.”

  “Mom…” She tried not to sound exasperated, but her mother kept changing the subject. “I’m also taking iron pills. The doctor I saw at the clinic with Jack and Francis told me I am anemic.”

  “You went to the clinic with Jack? What did the doctor say? Are you really sick?”

  “Well, that’s sort of what I’m trying to tell you, in a kind of roundabout way…” She played with a strand of hair, resisting the urge to pull it.

  “What are you trying to tell me, exactly? No mincing words, Sawyer. Whatever it is, spit it out.”

  “I’m…I’m pregnant.”

  Her mother’s face turned a sickly white. She sank like a bag of rocks onto the sofa.

  “Mom! Say something,” Sawyer cried. “I’m sorry.”

  “Oh good Christ-on-a-rope.” Her mother’s eyes widened and she burst into tears.

  Sawyer had anticipated every reaction except this one. “Mom?” She touched her on her shoulder, but her mother pushed her hand away.

  “Don’t. Please, give me a few minutes.”

  Sawyer shoved a tissue into her mother’s hand. “Here.” She sat down beside her. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

  After a few minutes, her mother blew her nose. When she looked up, her pink, splotched face seemed years older. “I don’t understand. I know Jack is gay, so how did this happen?”

  “Mom, it wasn’t Jack. It was Francis.”

  “Francis? The rich kid? He did this to you?”

  “No, I mean, he didn’t do it to me. It was consenting. I consented. It was more my idea than his.”

  “Oh god,” her mother moaned. She stood up and paced from one end of the room to the other. “Okay, what’s done is done, right? So how many months along are you? In a case like this, there’s good reason to terminate. How many months?”

  She’d been dreading this question. “Four months when I found out. That’s not an option anymore.”

  “What? My god! Okay. Okay. So that’s that.” She stopped at the window and fiddled with the blind. Words, usually her forte, deserted her. She took a big breath. “Okay. I’ve got this.”

  “Mom, you already said that, like three times. Are you mad at me?”

  “Mad at you?” She looked incredulous. “That doesn’t even begin to cover what I’m thinking and feeling right now. I’m sorry this happened. I’m mad at that rich boy, but mostly we need to figure out a plan.” Sitting down beside Sawyer, she gathered her into her arms. “Together.”

  Sawyer snuggled into her mother’s soft body and, for the first time in as long as she could remember, she felt safe and loved. She could face this with her mother on her side, even if Francis was a complete jerk.

  “Mom, I don’t want to keep the baby. I’ve really thought about this. I want to graduate high school and go to university, like I planned, but I…” She paused. “I want to find the baby a good home.” Her voice caught. “Can you help me?”

  “It’s the right thing to do,” agreed her mother. “Of course I’ll help you. I’ll be beside you the whole way. It’s the right thing to do,” she repeated, “and not just for the baby, but for everyone involved…And Francis?” She practically spat out his name. “Does he have an opinion?”

  “We broke up. He won’t talk to me. He’s jealous because he thinks Jack could be the father. Can you believe it?” She started to cry. “I guess I don’t owe him anything at this point, but I want him to know the truth.”

  “Typical,” her mother muttered under her breath. “He has a legal right to know. You have to tell him the baby is his, and he has to tell his parents. They all have a say in this, although in the end, the decision is yours and nobody else’s. It’s your body—you are in charge.”

  “Jack says he thinks fathers have rights.”

  “Francis is not a father. He’s a kid who made a mistake. Just like you. How old is he?”

  “Fifteen.”

  “Kids having kids. From now on, you’re under my care as far as diet goes. We are going to give this baby a good start, and we’re going to do that by making sure it is healthy and strong when it is born, and that we find it a really good family.”

  “You don’t have to call it it.”

  “You know the sex?”

  “It’s a girl. I know it’s a girl.” Sawyer’s tone and eyes dared her mother to argue with her.

  “Okay. I’ll start doing research about how to arrange for a private adoption.”

  • • •

  That night, they shared their first meal together in months. When Jack crept in late, he sensed something different in the apartment. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but change was in the air.

  The next morning, Sawyer woke early, feeling restless. She had unfinished homework. She padded into the kitchen silently, not wanting to wake the heavily snoring Jack, whose long legs dangled over the end of the couch like those of a stick insect. Although Jack had initially intended to bunk with them for a few days, both Sawyer and her mom had agreed that he should stay until he found something more permanent. He’d been reluctant at first, but they’d expected that. Jack never wanted to be a bother. That was part of his charm.

  She found a box of oatmeal and a banana on the table, beside a note from her mother. Eat up. This is good for you. Full of potassium, fiber, and lots of other vitamins and minerals. I love you! Mom.

  Sawyer tucked the note into her pocket. She couldn’t remember the last time her mother had said that. Still, she opted to skip breakfast, deciding to grab tea and a muffin on the way to school. Wiggling into her leggings, she noticed they were a bit tight around the middle. Great! She grabbed her backpack and slipped out the door into the gray light of dawn.

  Hungry, she entered the first diner she came across. It was a bit shabby, but it would have to do. Except for an elderly woman, it was empty, and despite its claim of Homemade Food, Cheap and Delicious, it didn’t smell delicious. Behind the laminate counter, a middle-aged man in a stained apron waved his fat fingers and greeted her with a friendly “Hello. Coffee?”

  “Tea, please.” Sawyer sat down on a stool at the counter.

  “Tea,” the man shouted toward the kitchen.

  In no time, a small woman shuffled out of the kitchen and placed a mug of steaming water and a tea bag in front of Sawyer. “Something to eat?” she asked.

  “Whole wheat toast and strawberry jam, please,” she said, shrinking under the woman’s intense stare.

  Her catlike eyes shone. “You know, I read fortunes. Says so right on the door. Maybe I can read yours.”

  “I don’t have any money,” Sawyer said, interested.

  The woman cackled and sat down beside her. “It won’t take a minute, and I’ll do it free of charge.”

  She snatched Sawyer’s hand and ran her dry, wrinkled fingers over her palm. “Let’s see,” she murmured. “You’re troubled. I see two boys in your present and a man in your past…and there are two other males…and…my goodness! You’ve got a baby girl! That’s what is getting you down. She’s fine, though.”

  Sawyer quickly withdrew her hand. “Oh my god, I knew it. But how did you?” She looked down at her tummy.

  The old woman retrieved her hand and shushed her. “There’s more. Who is London?”

  “London? London isn’t a person. It’s the place I come from—where I used to live.”

  “No,” the woman replied with finality. “That’s not what I’m seeing at all.” She dropped Sawyer’s hand onto the counter. “Saying good-bye to London won’t be easy, but it’s the right thing to do.”

  Chapter Ten

  Sawyer met Jack outside the coffee shop so they could walk home together. On the way, Jack listened attentively while Sa
wyer described the greasy diner. “It’s called the Purple Onion. Dumb name,” she scoffed. “And you should have seen the way they looked at me when I walked in, as if they were expecting me.” She frowned. “At first I thought the lady was crazy when she insisted on reading my palm, but she knew stuff about me, stuff impossible to guess.”

  “I don’t know,” Jack disagreed. “Maybe your pregnancy was just a lucky guess. And, after all, it’s fifty-fifty whether it will be a girl or a boy. It doesn’t seem like rocket science to me.”

  “What about the London part? Doesn’t that seem a bit on the hocus-pocus side to you?”

  “Yeah. That part’s a bit weird. But what did she mean by the two boys, the man in your past, and the mysterious males in your life?”

  “That’s easy,” said Sawyer. “You and Francis are the two boys, and my dad is obviously the man. As for the others, I think she got that part wrong.”

  “Yeah.” Jack flicked his hair out of his eyes. “Personally, I think it’s all a load of crap.”

  Sawyer elbowed Jack playfully. “It wouldn’t hurt you to believe in a little magic once in a while.”

  “Give me a reason to,” Jack replied.

  Sawyer sighed and changed the subject. “Sometimes I hear a baby crying.” She looked at him with scared eyes. “Do you think it’s because I’m pregnant? Do you think the baby is mad at me because I’m not going to keep her?”

  Jack stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and placed his hands on Sawyer’s shoulders. “Now, you listen to me. I don’t know much about having a baby, except that it involves a lot of barfing and not much sleep. But one thing I do know for sure is that you are doing the right thing for yours.” Jack spoke with an authority he did not feel. He walked away, his head down.

  Sawyer caught up with him and cast him a knowing glance. “Know what? I do understand how important it is.”

  Reminding himself that he could trust this girl more than anyone in the world, he took a deep breath. “I haven’t had a lot of luck in life. It’s taken a huge effort for me to be a good person…” He threw her a self-deprecating smile. “And as stupid as it sounds, I’ve wished my mother had found me a good home, before she left me with him.”

  “Oh, Jack. I’m sorry.” She took his hand and squeezed it. “You do have a home and a family. You have us. And thank you…You always know what to say when I doubt myself.” She sidled up to him. “I wish you were straight,” she teased, and was delighted to hear his laughter.

  They continued walking until they got to Sawyer’s house. As she extracted her keys from her bag, she gave him a hug. “I mean it. Thanks. You are a true friend. And you know, as far as barfing goes, the morning sickness is pretty much gone. In fact, I’ve got my appetite back, and now I’m starving all the time.” She unlocked the door and they climbed the stairs. Inside the upstairs apartment, they made a beeline for the kitchen. “And another thing you should know,” Sawyer confided. “I told my mom about the baby.”

  “Whoa! That’s huge! What did she say?”

  “You’ll crack up. She wanted to know how it happened, you being gay and all.”

  “What? She thought it was me?” Jack sputtered.

  “Not for long. I told her it was Francis. She doesn’t like him. She calls him the rich kid, like it’s a curse or something.”

  “He is a rich kid, but he’s a good kid too,” Jack replied, to Sawyer’s surprise.

  “Wow, that’s the first time you’ve said anything positive about him. Mom says I have to talk to him, but he’s so mad at me, me and you. Still, he left me a book, journal, and pen, you know, and I blew it off.”

  “Would you kill me if I told you I’ve talked to him?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Yes. I’d double-kill you.”

  “Fine. I won’t tell you, then.” He opened the fridge. “Who stocked up on all the healthy food?” He rifled around until he found an apple and a lemon square.

  “Don’t try to change the subject, Jack. Come on. Spill it. Did you see Francis? Where? When? What did he say? Did he call you?”

  “Not exactly. Here.” He offered her a glass of apple juice, but she pushed it away.

  “Tell me you didn’t call him. I’ll kill you if you did.”

  “I did.” He splayed his arms to each side, like Jesus on the cross. “Slay me.”

  Sawyer punched him lightly in the stomach. “Spit it out. Right now.”

  “I did it because if it weren’t for me pawing you and talking about sleeping overnight, you two might still be together. It was my fault you broke up, so I figured it was up to me to get you back together. There’s my motive, but stranger than strange, I think Francis and I will be friends. And,” he added quickly, “I told him why the baby couldn’t be mine.”

  He held his breath, prepared for her fury. He knew she preferred to fight her own battles, but she just nodded.

  “It’s okay, Jack. Someone had to tell him, and I figured your sexuality is yours to disclose. Or not. What did he say?”

  “He wanted to kill me. I think he really hoped I was the father.”

  “Holy shit. What is it about the word gay that people don’t get? And what happened when you explained your sexual orientation?”

  “I gotta be honest with you. He’s more cool with the gay thing than with the idea of being a dad.”

  “He’s not going to be a dad, Jack. He’s the sperm donor. Nothing more. Is there anything else you haven’t told me?”

  Jack looked at his watch. “Um, yeah. Francis will be here in about six minutes. And before you lambaste me, know that I did it for you. You shouldn’t have to go through this baby thing alone.”

  “I’m not alone,” Sawyer protested. “I’ve got you and my mom. I thought I loved Francis, but now I’m not so sure. We are from such different worlds. Maybe I’m too young to be in love.”

  “You know, you don’t have to love Francis to let him be a part of this. And your worlds aren’t as far apart as you think. He’s a kid, with kid issues, like us.”

  Before she could reply, there was a tentative rap on the door. “Oh my god. It’s him.” She looked at Jack, her eyes wild.

  “So, let him in.”

  “It’s open!” she yelled in the general direction of the door.

  Francis poked his head into the room. He looked so terrified that Jack felt sorry for him. “Hey, Francis. Come on in.”

  He stepped warily into the room. “Hi, Sawyer. Jack.” He stood half in, half out the doorway, unsure of what to say, how to behave, or where to look.

  Jack breezed past him. “Actually, I’m on my way out.”

  Sawyer thought differently. “You can’t leave.”

  “I have a shift.” He placed his hands firmly on her shoulders and moved her out of his way. “I’ll see you later,” he promised, bolting out the door.

  After Jack’s hurried departure, it took a few long seconds for Francis to dig up the courage to speak. “So, I talked to Jack. About…you know…I know he’s…you know…”

  “Gay?” Sawyer finished the sentence for him. “Yup. Old news around here.”

  “So, I’m the…well, you’re not…you don’t look pregnant yet.”

  She turned to show him her profile and pulled her T-shirt snug against her body. “It’s pretty obvious.”

  Francis saw a barely discernible bump—it didn’t look like a baby at all. “You look like you swallowed a tiny cantaloupe. I thought you’d be huge.”

  “Thanks. That’s exactly the right thing to say.” Sawyer snorted.

  He took a step closer. “No. I mean you look good. Jack said you’d been feeling better. Not sick anymore?”

  “I’m pretty much over the morning sickness now.”

  “Oh.” Francis shifted uncertainly from foot to foot. He knew nothing about having a baby and looked at Sawyer helplessly. “Oh.”


  “Yeah. My mom says she puked for most of the nine months she carried me.”

  Francis thought he might throw up on his shoes. “Your mom? Your mom knows? How…? You didn’t tell her about…well, you know, about…?”

  “About you? Of course I did.”

  “Is your mom pissed at me?”

  “She’s okay. At first she suspected Jack. Just like you did,” she teased, clearly enjoying his discomfort.

  “Well, how was I supposed to know?” He grinned, feeling like an idiot. “I’m sorry for what I said.”

  “I don’t know if I’m ready to forgive you, but I’ll try,” Sawyer conceded.

  Francis forced himself to raise his eyes to meet hers. “There are options, you know. I looked it up online.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Wrong. There were options a couple of months ago, but those options are gone now. You can’t have an abortion after three months. It’s the law. Besides, you think it’s easy to make that kind of a decision?”

  He didn’t bother to disguise his disappointment. “So, you’re having it?”

  “Her. And yes. I’m having her, Francis.”

  “Or him.”

  “No. It’s been confirmed. The baby’s a her. I had my palm read.”

  “Very scientific,” he scorned. “And then what?”

  “Don’t worry. I’ve put a lot of thought into this, and I’m going to find a good family for her. Mom said she’d help me. Jack’s in too.”

  “And what about me? Where do I fit in?”

  He flinched under her scathing glare. “Wow! Like it’s any of your business. Like you care about her or me. Jesus, Francis. You won’t talk to me on the phone. You don’t answer my texts. You’re only here because Jack made you come, and even then, you’ve taken your time. None of this is any of your affair, not anymore.” She hadn’t meant to lose her temper, but he infuriated her.

  For his part, Francis had never felt so ashamed. “I’m sorry,” he repeated.

  “I thought,” she continued, “that I loved you, but maybe I don’t. Maybe I actually hate you. I didn’t want you to come here, but when Jack said he’d contacted you, I figured you felt bad, but you don’t feel anything at all.” Although she spoke calmly, he could see the effort it cost her.