by Hannah Meade
I don't know if I can handle another guy like Andrew.
"I can't talk about this right now! You don't just drop a fucking bombshell like that to me and expect me to be calm about this! You may have had time to think about this, but I haven't! And I sure didn't expect to be a father at fucking twenty-two years old!" I wince at how loud his voice booms. It almost sounds like he is accusing me. Like I am taking his life away by being pregnant.
My heart plummets down to my stomach. I have a bad feeling about this. A really bad feeling.
I don't say anything else, just let him walk out my door. I don't know when he will be back, if he comes back. The same fear that consumed me when he left for New York, is back now.
What am I going to do if he decides not to help me? To not to be a parent to his child? My mother isn't here to help me, no surprise there.
This is just like four years ago.
I sulk to my couch, tears spilling over my eyes. No sound escapes from my mouth, but wet fat tears drip down my face. My nose runs, but I make no move to grab a tissue.
I wish Emily was here right now. She would know what to do; what to say to me.
~~~
Two hours later, I hear a knock on my door.
I quickly wipe my eyes, all too glad I haven't put on makeup this morning, and grab a tissue to blow my nose.
I jump off the couch and practically run to the door. I hope and pray it is Marcus who is on the other side of my door. Two hours is plenty of time to think through this. Maybe he has realized how stupid he is being and that he wants to be with me; wants to help me.
I open the door, coming face to face with an unexpected visitor. "Mom?"
She smiles. "Hi, sweetie. Can I come in?"
I would've said yes. If we were on speaking terms. "No, you can't. What do you want?" I just want her to cut the bullshit and say what she has to say. I am done beating around the bush.
She nods, like she expected me to say that. Her eyes reach mine and I see the desperation in them. "We should talk. About you being pregnant."
Yeah, no. I just had the father of my child walk out on me. I don't need to have this conversation with my mother as well. "Mom, stop. You've made your stance on this very clear. I don't need to hear anymore." I begin closing the door, but she stops it with her foot.
"Please, Mia. I need to explain something to you." I know I am being ridiculous. I should just let her in and let her explain. Who knows what she is going to say? Maybe she has a legitimate excuse for being so unfair to me.
Doubtful.
But, she is my mother. We were just making amends, and no matter how pissed off she makes me, I still want to make up with her. I really do.
So, I open the door and step aside, letting her pass.
She smiles gratefully at me and walks into my apartment. She doesn't go in very far, careful to not overstep her boundaries. We aren't that close yet.
I close the door and face her, bracing myself for whatever bullshit she is about to feed me. "Spit it out mother. I've already been let down once today, so let's just get this over with."
She sighs. "Look, I'm sorry for disappointing you. Not just now, but four years ago." Woah. I expected anything but an actual apology from her. "I know your father and I just left you out to dry with Amelia." I almost laugh at how she remembers her name. I swear my mother has never once mentioned Amelia's name before now. "But, honey, I just couldn't support you. You were so young! And I couldn't support something that I didn't support myself doing."
Say what? "You got pregnant young?" This is news to me.
She nods. "Unfortunately. I got pregnant at sixteen, two years younger than you did."
"Sixteen?! I didn't know you were so...wild when you were young, mom."
She laughs. "Oh, honey. You don't even know. I was a true troublemaker back in my day. Until I got knocked up."
"What happened?" It seems like a simple question. But when I look at my mother's sad eyes, I regret asking it. Obviously, whatever happened, was hard for her. I shouldn't make it worse. "Forget I said anything. You don't have to tell me."
My mother shakes her head, immediately dismissing my thought. "No, it's fine. I um...got an abortion. My own parents wouldn't support me or my child, and I was only sixteen years old. I couldn't take care of my own child, and I sure as hell couldn't move out. Abortion was the only option I had left."
I have no words. Absolutely none. I had no idea my mother went through that, let alone by herself. I could not have done what she did then. I'm surprised she even went through with it.
I have never seen my mother look so vulnerable than she does now. It is a whole other side to her that I have never known.
"Oh, mom. That had to have been so hard for you." I reach out my hand and pat her own, trying to comfort her. All of my anger is gone by now, now that I know the truth. She grew up being against young pregnancies. It was all she knew. I couldn't blame her for that.
She nods and smiles up at me. "Yeah. It was really hard. But that's what my parents wanted. They didn't care how hard it was for me to give up my own child. All they cared about was giving me a better life. If that meant killing an innocent human being, then that's what would happen." Her eyes glisten, signaling that she is about to cry. "And I am so sorry that I did the exact same thing to you. Not supporting you was probably one of the worst things I ever did. And I can't believe it took me this long to realize it. I don't want this time to be like last time. Mia."
I raise my eyebrow, hoping she is saying what I have been hoping for. "What do you mean?"
She smiles, not trying to stop the tears flowing freely down her face now. "I will help you this time. I want to help you. I want to be there for you and this baby. I will support you with whatever you need, not because I need to, but because I want to."
I can feel my own eyes well up, but I don't care. "Thank you mom."
She smiles, holding out her arms for a hug. "I love you, sweetie."
I step forward, letting her long arms wrap around me. "I love you too, mom." I nuzzle into her neck, feeling like a little kid again. I missed this. I missed feeling like my mother is my only safe place; like she is the only one I can turn to. To be honest, no amount of anger can replace this feeling. In this moment, I deeply regret freezing her out for four years. It seems so stupid now. We are a family, and nothing can ever damage that.
I pull back, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand.
My mother smiles at me, her eyes lighting up. She seems happy, and that is the best thing I can ask for. "I'm really glad we made up. I don't know if I could've lasted another four years without my sweet daughter." She cups my right cheek, pinching it and swinging my skin back and forth.
I laugh. This is something my grandma always does. "Mom," I whine. "Stop, please."
She chuckles, pulling her hand away. "Okay, okay. So, is there anything you want to talk about? You seem a bit distracted." Now why in the world would I ever be distracted?
I shrug. "Other than the fact that my child may not ever see its father, I'm perfectly fine."
She frowns, guiding me to the couch to sit down. "Oh, hunny. What happened? Who's the father?"
Here we go. "Marcus is the father. I actually just told him about me being pregnant this morning, a couple of hours before you got here. He um...he freaked out on me and bolted out of my apartment. He said he needed to think about all of this." My heart burns as the image of this morning pops up in my mind. The way his eyes go blank, like he isn't even here.
The way he just stares at me, or rather, right through me. It all shines vividly in my memory. I still haven't heard from him since then, which just worries me even more.
My mother looks at me with pity, which is all the more worse. "I'm sure he does just need time to think about this. I mean, sweetie, he's going to be a father. That's a far greater feat than just being someone's boyfriend. I'm guessing you two are together, right?"
I nod, digesting her words. Yes, this is a big
thing to deal with. Hell, when I found out I was going to be a mother for the first time, I didn't want to believe it at first. I denied it for as long as I could, not wanting to think about all that I would have to change. Being a mother at eighteen years old, could not have been more difficult.
But, still, I hate how he just ran out of my apartment and didn't give me any indication of when he would even be back. We could've talked about it and be civil.
"I just hope he calls me soon, or comes back here. It's killing me to not know what he's thinking. What if he decides not to help me out? What if my child never sees its father? Mom, I'm really scared. I can't have another repeat of Andrew. I just can't." Speaking of, I need to talk to him. If I am going to move on with my life, Marcus exempt, I am going to need to deal with the Andrew situation. He needs to stop seeing Amelia, and that is that. I am going to make it clear that I do not want him in my life, or my daughter's life.
If he can't respect that, I may have to do something about that.
My mother pulls me into her again, patting my shoulder. "I know, I know. It may seem like that, but trust me, if that boy loves you and wants to be with you, he will be there for you. This is probably a huge shock to him, but if he truly cares about you, nothing can get in the way of your relationship. Your father was there for me when I went through my abortion. He may not have agreed with it, but he sure as hell wasn't leaving me alone. He stuck by my side throughout the whole process, during my pregnancy and after it. And look at us, now. We are happily married and have raised one hell of a daughter." She pulls back and looks me in the eye. "A very strong, independent daughter. One that we took for granted for so long, and it's time we wake up and see what we have right in front of us. You are amazing, Mia. And if this Marcus chooses to be another asshole that goes through your life, then dump his ass." I laugh at her choice of words. She never swears. And when she does, it is hilarious.
I shoot her a smile, appreciating her words. Really appreciating them. She is right, after all. We didn't plan this; I didn't plan this. If Marcus can't take responsibility for his own actions, then screw him. I have my mother this time. And with my mother, I am unstoppable.
"Thanks, mom. Now, can we do something fun? I really need to get my mind off of all of this."
She nods, practically jumping off of my couch. "Let's get baking then!"
I chuckle. My mother loves to bake. And I do mean love. Whenever she is depressed, or angry, or even happy, she bakes. Baking is her escape from the world, like reading is for me.
Baking with my mother is something I have missed. I remember all of the days my father would come home to find our kitchen covered in flour and dough. But to be honest, those were the best days. When I would come home from school, and immediately run my little legs to the kitchen. My mother would always be there waiting for me, with a recipe in her hand.
As I watch my mother flit cheerily around my kitchen, searching for whatever she will need, I am glad to have this time back. Glad to have my mother back.
~~~
Two hours and three batches of cookies later, my kitchen is officially a mess. Seriously, it is beyond seeking for help. Basically, I just need a new kitchen.
My mother is setting the chocolate chip cookies onto a drying sheet, so I stick my finger in the cookie dough bowl and scrape up a dollop of dough. I moan as the soft dough melts in my mouth, leaving me wanting more. Instinctively, my finger dips down into the bowl to grab another bite, but I'm not quick enough.
"Mia Elizabeth Hatheway! Get your fingers out of the dough!"
I freeze in mid-swipe, my eyes darting over to my mother. Shit.
She glares, stomping back over to me. "Are you going to leave some for me?"
I relax, grateful that she hadn't actually yelled at me. I move aside for her to take some, and begin to make more cookie dough balls. I smile over at my mother, who is taking a hefty 'dollop' of cookie dough. "Mom! That's so much more than I took!"
She grins, laughing at me. "Hey, I did most of the work. That means I get most of the benefits." She holds up a pile of cookie dough, the size of an actual cookie, to prove her point. Then, she stuffs it all in her mouth.
I stare appalled at her and my jaw drops down to the floor. How dare she. Doesn't she know the kid always gets the most cookie dough?
A knock rings out from my door, casting my attention elsewhere. I look back at my mom, shooting her a glare. "You're better be thankful for whoever is on the other side of that door. They just saved your ass."
I stalk away as she laughs loudly behind me. I am going to get her back later.
I walk to the door and open it. And I almost shut it. "Oh, look who finally decides to show up."
Emily grins sheepishly. She knows what she has done. And she still smiles at me. Unbelievable. "Sorry?"
I roll my eyes, walking back to my mother in the kitchen. I don't bother closing the door, as I figure Emily will come in anyway.
I am rolling a ball of dough in my hands when Emily saunters up to me with a guilty look on her face.
I frown, wondering where this is heading.
She clears her throat. "So, I have a surprise for you!"
I stop rolling the dough. Curiosity gets the better of me. What does Emily have in store for me now?
"What is your surprise?" I should've never asked that question.
She looks down at her feet, mumbling something I can't hear.
I sigh, not wanting to play this game with her. "What?"
She mumbles it again, still too quiet for me to hear.
I am getting frustrated. "Emily, just spit it out! Jesus Christ."
Her head snaps up then. "Fine! I saw Marcus in his car in the parking garage! I'm just guessing that he's going to come up here sometime." Marcus. The boy I've been waiting for all day. He's finally here. "There! Are you happy now?!" She stomps off to my couch, plopping down on it.
I ignore her, only focusing on her words. Marcus is fucking here. Am I happy? I mean, I've wanted him to come back ever since his little freak out this morning. But now that he is here, do I actually want to know what he has to say to me? I set down the ball of dough I am holding, unable to focus on it anymore.
I look at my mother, who nods her understanding at me. "Emily, why don't we go for a walk on the beach? I think Mia might need some privacy real soon."
Emily looks back at my mother, then at me. I silently plead with her not to go. Not to leave me alone.
Obviously, she can't read my mind. She breaks eye contact with me, and instead smiles at my mother. "Yeah. Let's go." She jumps off my couch, following my mother out the door.
I watch them go, my stomach twisting in knots. How much longer until he gets up here? What if he changes his mind and leaves already?
Then I am angry. How dare they leave me alone! How dare they abandon me when I might need the most support! What am I supposed to do with Marcus alone, especially after he left me this morning?!
Fuck. I need to think. I turn the oven off, as not to start a fire. I walk over to one of my bar stools, sitting down.
What am I going to do if Marcus walks in here and tells me he doesn't want anything to do with this baby? Do I calmly tell him to fuck off? Or do I stay mute and just wait for him to leave like he was going to all along?
This is one time when I really wish I wasn't alone. I can practically hear Marcus's footsteps as he climbs up to my apartment. Somehow, I know he is close. I can feel it.
Then there is a knock on my door.
My head whips up, already knowing exactly who it is. I gulp, slowly sliding off my chair.
My feet carry me to the door, opening it to reveal Marcus.
He looks about as sick as I feel. His face is pale. He looks like he is about to throw up. Honestly, he looks like shit.
He looks up at me when I open the door. "Hey, Mia."
I nod, choosing not to say anything. Instead, I open the door further and gesture for him to come in. We can't avoid the inevitable any lon
ger, so we might as well get comfortable.
I close the door and face him. He is frozen in his tracks, just staring at me. It is weirding me out big time.
I clasp my hands together by my waist, twisting them this way and that. It is a nervous habit I have, especially when things are awkward. Like now.
I keep waiting for him to say something. Waiting for him to just say what he came here to say.
Eventually, I just get pissed off. "Marcus. Just fucking say something. Stop dicking around and say it. I don't play games."
He gulps and nods at me. I see him take a deep breath, like he is extremely nervous about what he is about to say.
Yeah, that doesn't make me worry one bit.
He takes a step closer to me and keeps solid eye contact with me. "Look, Mia. When you told me that you were pregnant, my mind blanked. Completely and utterly blanked. I had no idea what to even say to you. I mean, I didn't expect to be a father for a while still. And I know. I know I handled the situation terribly. I should not have run out on you like that." You can say that again. "But honestly, I didn't know what to do. I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. I'm sure you have an idea what that's like. I mean, you're the one having the...I mean our child."
It is true. The thought of being a mother again, terrifies me. I don't want it to be like last time. I actually want to show this baby what good parenting looks like. I want to love this baby with all my heart, and hope it never questions whether or not it's parents love it or not. This baby is a part of me, and that means so much more to me now than it did four years ago.
"So, anyway, I went home and just laid on my bed for hours, thinking about what the hell I should do. I wasn't expecting to be a father yet, but how could I let you down? Just thinking about you sobbing one day because I wasn't there for you, hurt more than a fucking gunshot wound. I couldn't bear the thought of leaving you all alone to fend for yourself, with our child. I didn't want you to ever feel like you weren't good enough. Because you are." He steps closer to me, and I don't step back. "You fucking are. And you are worth this. You are worth being a mother at 23. You are worth taking on a big responsibility like this. You are worth taking care of our child. You're worth everything."
