by Meg Buchanan
Collins picked up a tea towel and started drying the dishes. He was in his old man pants and the tweed jacket with corduroy patches on the elbows.
“Is there something I can help with, Isaac?” he asked after a while. I stuck my elbows on the table, rubbed my forehead with both hands, and tried to unfreeze my brain. “Has something happened?” Collins sounded worried now.
Has something happened? Fuck, Jess is going to have a baby. How did that happen? Stupid question.
Collins went to get a glass out of the cupboard. “Would you like a drink of water?”
I shook my head. Like a glass of water might fix this. Collins carried on drying the dishes.
I spit it out. “Jess is pregnant.” It sounded so unreal said like that. Jess is going to be a mother.
There was this long silence from Collins. “When did you find out, Isaac?” he asked finally.
“Just now.” I was still studying the table top and holding my head with my hands. Fuck, that means I’m going to be a father.
“Do your parents know?” I shook my head. “Do Jess’s?” Another shake. “Where’s Jess now?” he asked.
“At her house.”
“Is she on her own?”
“Don’t know.”
Collins put the tea towel and plate down. He leaned over the table and grabbed hold of my wrists. I lifted my head. Startled. He doesn’t touch anyone. Ever. He’s careful about it.
“Isaac,” he said forcefully with his eyes holding mine. “You can’t leave Jess on her own right now.”
I shifted my eyes away.
“Look at me,” he said. “You have to go around there.”
I nodded.
“Now,” he said.
I nodded again.
Then he let my wrists go. “Jess will be as shocked as you are.”
She didn’t sound shocked. She sounded frozen.
“Are you all right to drive?” asked Collins.
I nodded again.
“Do I need to come with you?”
I shook my head. He was right. Jess would be as shocked as I was. I stood up. I needed to get to her.
“Isaac.” Collins broke through the feeling I was swimming in fog. “You and Jess can’t cope with this on your own. You have to tell your parents. You both have good parents. They’ll help you.”
I nodded again and went to the door.
“Do I need to come?’
I shook my head.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” Finally, I could say something. “I need to go to Jess,” I said like I was repeating a lesson.
“Isaac,” said Collins again as I opened the door. “None of this is going to be easy, if you need someone to talk to again, or…” he waved at the piano and guitars sitting in the lounge, “… just peace and quiet, you are welcome to come here, anytime.”
“Thanks.” I walked out to Mum’s car and drove to Jess’s place to find her.
When I got there, I knocked on the door and waited. But no one answered, so I tried the door handle and it was unlocked. I went inside.
“Jess?” The house seemed empty. But that was where Jess said she was when she rang. I walked through the kitchen and then the living area, and still no one.
“Jess?” I walked down the passageway and the doors to the bedrooms were open. Some beds were made and some weren’t, then I finally got to Jess’s room. And there she was, in bed, under the duvet, in the empty house alone. Just like Collins was worried about.
I leaned against the doorway. “Hi,” I said.
She turned over carefully and gave a half smile. “Hi.” She was pale, like she belonged to another world.
“Are you all right?”
She nodded. “I just don’t feel very well.” It didn’t look like the razor blades had come out. I think that’s what Collins was worried about. “You took a long time to get here. Where have you been?” she asked.
I shrugged. “Around.” It was weird of me to go to see Collins first. Who goes to see their music teacher because their girlfriend is pregnant? Jess didn’t have to know that.
She shivered even though it was still the middle of summer. “What are we going to do?”
“Don’t know.” I didn’t have to ask how she knew what was wrong with her. There was this little box sitting on the desk with a plastic thing that looked like a toy jet lying beside it.
She lifted the duvet. “Come and keep me warm.”
I sat on the end of her bed, undid my boots, kicked them off, slid into bed behind her and put my arms around her because I couldn’t think of anything else to do. After a while we fell asleep, and I woke up to Laura standing in the doorway watching us. She must have just got home from wherever she’d been. I saw her look at the little box on the desk. She didn’t say anything. Just disappeared again.
When Jess woke we got the laptop and Googled morning sickness. Ginger was the answer.
“I could buy you gingernuts,” I said.
Jess lay down and curled up under the duvet again. “I think Mum has some in the pantry.”
“I’ll get them.” I pushed the laptop out of the way and went to slide out of the bed.
Jess reached out and held onto my arm. “No, stay here. It doesn’t matter.” I curled up round her again and we lay there.
Then Jess turned over. “What about failure rates of condoms?” she asked.
I sat up again and did the search. “Twenty-one percent.”
“Twenty-one percent?”
“Yeah.”
“Twenty-one percent of what?
I spelled it out for her. “Twenty-one couples get pregnant out of a hundred if they’re using condoms for a year.”
“How many get pregnant without condoms?”
“Can’t find that.”
“I bet it’s not many more,” said Jess.
I closed the laptop and stuck it on the floor, then curled up around her again. “We’re going to have to tell someone about this,” I said. “We can’t keep it a secret.”
“I know.” She snuggled down and went back to sleep.
Wednesday 5th February
It’s not that we decided not to tell anyone. It’s more that you put off what you don’t want to do. It was three days before I got another call from Jess.
“Mum and Dad know,” she said.
“Did Laura tell them?”
“No. Mum guessed. They want you to come here for dinner tonight.”
“They’ll kill me.”
“No, they won’t. Dad’s promised to be nice. He said he won’t pin a medal on your chest, but he won’t punch you either.”
Reassuring, especially as I haven’t been one of his favourite people lately.
I got around there, and Jess’s mum was acting all perky.
“Isaac, come in. We’ve been waiting for you.” She led the way, showing me into a house I’d been in a thousand times.
And the question was, who was ‘we’? Was this discussion going to be just me, Jess and her mum and dad, or was the whole family going to have a say?
I got to the dining room. The table was all set, and, thank God, it was only Jess and her dad sitting there. No sister. No brothers. It was obvious where I was meant to sit. I slid into the chair opposite Jess. She looked over at me and gave a half smile.
I looked at her dad. His face was like thunder, like he wanted to commit murder and might forget his promise to Jess.
“Good evening, Isaac.” Icy.
“Mr Murphy,” I said because ‘hi’ didn’t seem appropriate, and ‘good evening’ might have sounded like I was copying him. Probably this was one of those times when nothing you said was going to be right anyway.
Of course, the discussion started: “Do your parents know, Isaac?”
I shook my head. Jess’s father leaned back in his chair, stuck his hands safely in his pockets, and let his breath out slowly through his teeth the way only a teacher can. They do it when they would like to send you flying through the windo
w but are trying to be reasonable.
“Isaac, you’ve got two days to tell them, or we’ll do it. Both families need to manage this together.”
Jess’s mum stayed perky. “A baby is a gift from God,” she said. “It’s a beautiful thing to bring a child into this world.”
No talk of abortion from her. Or from Jess’s dad for that matter.
I got home, and Mum and Dad were sitting in the lounge watching TV.
“Is that you, Isaac?” I’m not sure who else my mum thought it was going to be. I’m their only kid.
“Yeah,” I said.
“Have you had dinner?”
“Yeah.” I knew I should go into the lounge and tell them about the baby right then. But it’s pretty easy to put off what you don’t want to do, and Jess’s dad said he wouldn’t phone Mum and Dad for two days.
He’d mentioned it again as I was leaving.
‘You’ve got forty-eight hours to tell them, Isaac, or I’ll do it,’ he’d said.
I figured I still had forty-seven hours left to pretend nothing was wrong.
Because I was scared shitless.
Chapter Twelve
Saturday 22nd February
I finally told the olds with about half an hour to spare. Then me and Jess got through the next two weeks of reasonable discussion and tight faces around a table.
It was all decided for us. I’d still go to university and study music. Jess would have the baby, and then she and the baby would live with her parents until we were old enough to know what we wanted.
What we wanted? That’s a laugh. Nobody asked us, and we already know.
Rock star. Artist.
I could see those dreams writhing in the dust.
We were sitting on the pallet stage in the shed alone for once.
“I leave in a week,” I said and took her hand. Jess threaded her fingers through mine and nodded. Her hair fell around her face.
Then she looked up. “I don’t want you to go away, Isaac,” she said softly. “Please stay.”
And I think it was the first time either of us had said it. I needed to stay. I didn’t want to leave Jess and the baby anyway. It was Mum who drove the whole ignore the baby and carry on plan.
“Do you want to get married?” I asked.
Jess nodded again.
“Okay.” So much for Mum’s plan, and this decision to get married was not going to go down well. It wasn’t an option our parents even considered. The whole idea of Jess’s family is too much for Mum. As for Jess’s dad, I’m pretty sure if he could see a way of getting rid of me without ending up in jail, I’d be toast.
“We need to sort out everything before we tell them,” said Jess. So, she did have some idea of how our parents would react.
I nodded, but my brain was spinning. I was going to need a job, and we were going to need somewhere to live and that meant furniture. How the hell do you get that sorted in less than a week? Mum was expecting to load me and my gear into the car and take me to Auckland the following week, so I could start university.
“Do you think this is sensible?” Jess asked.
I shrugged. Of course, it wasn’t sensible. I know fuck all about babies and being married.
“Do you still want to go to university?” she asked.
I thought about that. Maybe. Definitely. A lot more than I wanted to be married and look after a baby anyway. But Jess didn’t want me to go, and I didn’t think I should leave.
“All I want is to be with you,” I lied.
Tuesday 25th February
“Children getting married.” Mum exploded at Dad. Jess’s mum and dad had just left the house after the getting married discussion. Mum looked at me. I still look like Zac Coleman, rockstar, eyes like a panda, hair straight, cut so it hangs over half my face, and dyed as black as midnight.
“It’s the hair and the makeup that have caused the problem.” She never liked the look.
Then she decided it was all Jess’s fault. “That girl has destroyed our son’s life. She could have kept her legs closed. Some people should be sterilised at birth.”
And so on and so forth.
I wasn’t sure why Jess got most of the blame.
“I was there too, Mum,” I pointed out.
That shut her up.
Thursday 27th February
I had a talk to Luke. He’s not going anywhere either and probably won’t be a rock star. He’s starting his apprenticeship in a couple of weeks.
“Do you think your dad would want another apprentice?” I asked him.
“Don’t know.” Luke’s as shocked as me about all this. Said his dad had told him to use heavy duty condoms from now on. And spermicide.
Is there such a thing?
Might have to look that up.
“I’ll ask him.” He flicked his hair back. “Since you’re sticking around, are you still in Stadium?” That’s something I hadn’t thought about. The band had got that gig in Hamilton. Every Saturday night Stadium was going to play at Collins’ mates’ pub.
After Luke asked the first time, I’d decided if I was in Auckland it would be too hard for me to be part of it. But I’m not going to be in Auckland. I’m going to be here. If Luke and Cole were travelling over to Hamilton each weekend, I could go with them.
“Yeah, why not?” And suddenly I thought maybe this whole baby thing isn’t all bad. Maybe Collins will be happy to keep on writing lyrics with me, and maybe if I keep playing with the band I’ll have some sort of a life.
“First gig, this Saturday night,” said Luke. “Me and Cole will swing by and pick you up around lunchtime. You can bunk down at Tessa’s flat. She’s flatting with Noah and Adam and a couple of others, so bring a sleeping bag.” He folded his long skinny frame into his car.
“What about Milly?” Last I heard Cole was still hanging about with her.
Luke shook his head. “She’s gone to England for a year to ride horses or something.”
Things change fast. I slammed the car door shut, and Luke took off. Bunking down at Tessa’s Saturday night might be what Cole’s doing, but Luke’s been going out with Tessa since they were kids, so he’ll be in her bed. He does tend to look after himself and let everyone else make do.
Sunday March 2nd
Saturday arrived, and Luke turned up at the house to pick me up.
“Ready?” he asked as I came out the door, guitar in one hand, violin under my arm, back pack slung over one shoulder and sleeping bag in the other hand. Mum was in the kitchen, doing something.
Luke grinned at Mum. “See you, Mrs Coleman.” And because Luke’s got that sort of grin, Mum smiled back. It didn’t seem to worry her, that he was wearing even more mascara than I was. Mum’s all for me sticking with Stadium. She said it might show me what I’m giving up by getting married. She’s still fighting this wedding.
I’d gone all Goth. I was wearing the Matrix coat, I wore when we played at the school ball. It’s got dollar coins sewn into the hem, so when I move it flares out.
“See you boys, have fun.”
Luke grabbed the violin and the sleeping bag and stuck them in the boot.
Jess was staying home with her Mum and Dad. She said she didn’t feel up to coming with us. Morning sickness that goes on all day must be a bastard.
We got to the pub, just on midday. Noah and Adam were already there.
“You made it,” said Noah. He helped us unload the guitars and violin. He spotted the back pack and roll bags. “Where are you staying tonight?”
“Your place.” Luke hopped out of the car and came around to the back to help carry stuff.
“Lucky we’ve got a couple of couches.” Noah handed the amp and cords to Adam. Cole and the others were in jeans and t shirts as usual. Luke was all waistcoat and fedora.
Adam carried the amp, and we followed him into the pub. “Harry’s got a spare room out the side where we can set up and store our gear, said Adam. “That’s where the drums are, and the rest of the sound system. It
all looked all right. I came and checked it during the week. It shouldn’t take us long to set up.” He’s the technician. We all know a fair bit about setting up our gear now, but he knows the most.
Inside the pub, dust danced in the light from the high windows, and the tables and chairs were sitting there emptily. Pubs always look sad during the daytime when no one is there. It’s like they’re going to have a party but aren’t sure anyone will turn up.
A big guy in a white shirt and black pants came over. The Harry Adam was talking about.
Luke introduced me and Cole. Harry waved at a door to a side room.
“Put your gear in there. I’ll leave you to set up.” What he’s paying us isn’t going make anyone rich, but he’s taking a chance on us, so maybe that’ll improve.
“Are we going to try and have a practice?” asked Noah. It was a fair question. We hadn’t played together since before Christmas.
Luke was all business. “We’ll set up and do a sound check. I guess if there’s any time to spare, we’ll have a run through.” He’s usually full of energy and ready for anything but he was taking this seriously.
We got to work, we had about six hours to get ready.
By late afternoon, we were nearly set up and ready to run through “Stardust”. I wrote it with Collins help. We’d decided we should at least do a soundcheck to see if we could make music here.
Luke talked me into playing the violin part. “Natalia said you’re the best violinist anyway,” he said, probably to get in first before I started complaining. “Besides you wrote “Stardust”, and with that coat you wore at the ball, and a bit of showmanship you look good.”
Jesus. He’s the showman. And bloody Luke can play the violin, so can Noah and Adam for that matter, but it’s always me who gets stuck with it. I wonder which one of them would have done it if I’d gone to Auckland?
That afternoon, I was struggling with the violin. The bloody thing doesn’t stay in tune anyway, and Luke sticks it in the boot on a hot day. And I let him! When I started learning the violin, it was a deal with Mum. If I wanted guitar and piano lessons, I got to take violin lessons too. I think she could see me in the symphony orchestra or something. There was no way that was going to happen but when the violin teacher’s hot, why give it up?
