[2016] Alone and Pregnant

by Christian Michael

  “I don’t know how you can say that.” She looked down.

  “You think that it was your fault, somehow. It’s not. Yes, you lied to me and I don’t like that fact, but I can also see the circumstances that led you to make that choice. And I—” he swallowed then drilled his gaze into hers, “I forgive you.”

  She filled with warmth at his words. She didn't deserve his forgiveness and yet he was bestowing it on her. “Thank you.”

  “Effie, I don’t just want you to live here with me. I don’t want us to be at odds like this—to fight and bicker and argue. I want us to discover what it’s like to be a family.” He looked at her abdomen before his eyes flickered back to hers. “I want to be a father to your child. If you’ll let me.”

  Her heart leapt in joy. This was what she wanted. Granted, Mack was nothing that she’d expected nor would she have picked him out of a crowd in Boston, but his patience and calm demeanor drew her to him. When he’d almost kissed her—before she passed out, likely from lack of breathing—she’d wanted to experience his lips on hers. She had wanted to be close to him.

  “I want that too,” she finally said.

  “Really?” he asked.

  Effie looked away, not wanting to be swayed by the look in his eyes or the feelings jumbling inside of her because of his nearness. She knew it would take time. They wouldn't become close overnight nor would they understand each other right off either, but she felt certain they could come to an understanding. That they could learn to maybe even love one another someday. That thought caused her to smile and she looked up at him.

  “Yes. Really. I want us to be a family.”

  ***

  Mack felt a surge of joy course though him. She wanted what he did—they just went about it in different ways. But the fact that she wanted to try was the important thing. It gave him hope and calmed some of the nerves at the thought of being a father to a child he hadn’t known existed. Together, if they both fought for the same things, they could accomplish much.

  “Good,” he finally said, stepping closer. On impulse he reached out and took her hands in his. They were delicate and soft, smooth without the wear and tear of everyday use for difficult tasks. They were different in every way from his.

  He looked into her eyes and saw openness in her. It was beautiful and drew him toward her. He wanted to be close to her.

  “Mack,” she said, her voice almost a whisper. “I’m scared.”

  He frowned. “About what? Me?”

  “No,” she said, laughing, “About being a mother.”

  “Well good.” His words drew a sharp look from her. “I'm scared about being a father. We can learn to be parents together.”

  “But first, let’s learn to be friends.”

  Her words surprised him but he nodded slowly. “I think that’s a good idea.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes.” He lifted one of her hands up and kissed the knuckles. “I know we’re as different as night and day. I’ve grown up in the West. You in the East. And we are trying to merge together a lot of thoughts, feelings, and emotions, but I want you to know right off the bat that I'm determined to do my best by you,” he paused, “And the little one.”

  “I am sorry,” she said. Her voice was even softer this time. Filled with regret. He knew she was saying sorry not for just deceiving him but for everything—for how she had acted up until this point, for the anger she had sent his way, for it all.

  “All is forgiven,” he said, then leaned down and kissed her on the cheek.

  He wanted to press his lips to hers, but he would wait. They were a long way from being comfortable with one another. Sure, they might get along now that the lies were out in the open and nothing else would be in the way, but it would take time before they fully trusted one another.

  “And we can look at it this way,” he added, “God has brought us together for a purpose.”

  She smiled, nodding her agreement.

  Then, standing next to his wife pregnant with what he would claim as his child, he thanked the Lord for His gracious provision. It wasn’t what he’d expected, but as Pastor Tobias had said, God had greater reasons than he, a mere man, could ever fathom.

  Chapter 6

  Several months later

  The pain came sharp and intense, shocking Effie. Her hand flew to her stomach as she stood at the stove mixing up hotcake batter for breakfast. Mack was out at the barn doing chores as she got ready for the day. It was a routine they had slipped into and she like the familiarity of it. The comfort of knowing how things would go each morning.

  She was still shy around him, but the months had taken away the fear and the difficulty of not knowing one another. Each and every day Mack proved to be kinder, more gracious, and more loving that any man Effie had ever known. In comparison to Ronald…well, she couldn’t compare the two because there was almost nothing similar about the men. Where Ronald had sought out what he wanted, Mack was more concerned with what she wanted.

  Doubling over in pain again, she let out a cry. The baby was coming and she wasn’t ready. Or maybe she was, but it was hard to know. She felt confident that Mack would be a good father, but would she be a good mother?

  The door flew open and Mack stood there looking shocked. “Effie, what’s wrong?”

  “The…baby—” she managed.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “No, it’s coming!” she shouted out the last part as another contraction clenched her midsection.

  “I’ll send Hank for the doctor.” And he was gone.

  Part of her wished he hadn’t left, but there was nothing she could do, at least not immediately. Instead of sitting down and waiting for the pain to come she continued what she was doing. She felt foolish, but when she was cooking or cleaning or doing anything other than waiting for the excruciating pain, her mind was kept busy.

  Mack came back in soon and tried to get her to sit down but she wouldn’t listen. He stood, watching her, wringing his hands, and jumping to her side when the pains came, but then stepping back to let her be until she called for him again.

  It all flew by in a blur once the doctor showed up, his calm and confident manner making her feel assured. He sent Hank out to pump more water and they got down to the business of having a baby.

  ***

  Mack paced back and forth, the reality that his child was coming into the world sending jolts of excitement and terror though him in equal parts. It was amazing that, over the last several months, he had started to think of the child as his own.

  It didn’t matter that the father was someone else. It only mattered that he would love the baby as if it was his own and he would always think of the child as his. A scream came from inside and he ran a shaky hand through his hair. It felt like ages since Effie had gone into labor. Just how long would this take?

  In answer to his unspoken question the door flew open and the doctor motioned him inside, a grin on his face.

  “Congratulations.” His kind eyes sparkled up at Mack. “It’s a boy.”

  Mack’s entire body felt like it was on fire from exhaustion and excitement. A son? He had a son!

  He rushed to the back of the small home to see Effie propped up on pillows, a small bundled held in her arms. She looked up at him and, when their eyes met, he saw genuine happiness written there.

  “It’s a boy,” she said. She sounded tired, but happy. He couldn’t imagine the pain she’d gone through, but he was just happy to see her healthy and hear that their baby was all right too. “Come and see him.”

  Carefully, almost tiptoeing up in case he would wake the child up, he came forward and sat down on the bed next to her. She lowered her arms and the wrinkly head of the small baby came into view. His little eyes scrunched up then relaxed as if he’d struggled against unseen forces and then won the battle.

  “He’s beautiful,” Mack said, feeling the moisture of tears in his eyes.

  “He is isn’t he?” Effie said.

 
; One glance told Mack that she was just as enamored with the child as he was—probably more so.

  “How are you?” he asked.

  Her eyes met his. “Tired. But all right.”

  They held each other’s gaze for longer than necessary and he felt the pressure of words he needed to say. Things he had wanted to say for months now but that he’d held back. He hadn’t wanted her to think he was just saying them because he had to. But now was the perfect time, their son in her arms between them.

  “Effie,” he began, swallowing with the force of the emotions he was feeling, “I have to tell you something, and you need to know that I mean it with all of my heart.”

  “All right,” she said, a small smile lifting the corner of her mouth.

  Before he spoke, he reached up and tucked a stray curl of hair behind her ear. She was exhausted, pale, and her hair still held the remnants of sweat, but to him she was beautiful.

  “I want you to know that, no matter what, I will always love our son and,” he paused, making sure she could see the truth in his eyes, “And I love you. Very much.”

  Now she had tears in her eyes, but they were from joy, that much he could tell. This time she wasn’t going to run off in a torrent of emotions, she was going to sit there in front of him and let him see all of her.

  “I love you too, Mack.” She cupped his face with her hand. “You have been so kind to me—to us—and I can never repay you. I know I don’t need to. I hope that my love can be enough.”

  “It is more than enough. It’s all that I want.”

  Then he leaned forward, careful not to crush their son between them, and he kissed her with passion, showing her he meant everything he’d said and so much more.

  When they broke apart she was ginning. “There’s one very important thing left for you to do.”

  “What’s that?” he asked with a frown.

  “Name your son.”

  He felt the weight of responsibility at her words but knew it was an honor she wanted to give him. To show him her trust and the fact that they truly were a family.

  Looking down at the little on in her arms he thought back to how God had provided for them. Then it came to him and he knew exactly what he would name the boy.

  “Let’s call him Nathan. It means ‘gift of God’ and I think that is exactly what he is.”

  She smiled, the tiredness momentarily gone from her features as she nodded in agreement with him.

  “It’s perfect.”

  Mack shifted on the bed so he was sitting next to her and could warp his arm around his wife as she held their son. And they rested there, Mack thanking the Lord for his provision and of a family that he could not only provide for, but love as well.

  THE END.

  The Christmas Cowboy

  Mail Order Bride

  CHRISTIAN MICHAEL

  I didn’t see it coming. I should have; but I didn’t. That morning appeared like any other. I woke up at seven ‘o’clock sharp, slipped on a pair of blue overalls, and skipped down to the barn to feed the cattle. The walk from the house was only five to eight minutes but that morning, it felt like an hour. It was unbelievably cold which turned my brisk walk into a slow crawl. The atmosphere itself seemed put-off by what it was producing. I could barely tell whether it was night or day. It was almost as if one of the clouds had decided to gobble up the sky leaving behind nothing but its light blue streaks to remind us of its once rich color. Maybe it was a sign from God. Looking back now, maybe he knew the trouble that this day would bring me.

  Another alarm should have gone off in my head as soon as I entered the barn. All of the troughs had been filled. There was no way Papa had done it; his job in the morning was tending to the crops. My little brother, Ethan, wasn’t even an option; he was still too little to carry the buckets in from the silo. That only left one possible candidate; Mama. Her cheap perfume wafted around the stable and up to the rafters. I was surprised the animals hadn’t become intoxicated; she had turned the place into a gas chamber. Despite her efforts, there was still one trough that I knew would be untouched. My mother, even on her brightest days, refused to go anywhere near the pigs. So I walked over to the silo and filled a bucket with corn and soybean. On my way back to the barn, a voice cut through the cool layer of fog.

  “Brooklyn! Breakfast!” I didn’t need to see anything to know it was him. His husky tone was enough for me.

  “Coming, Papa!” I hollered in return.

  I finished feeding the pigs and ran back over to the house. There was no one sitting on the porch. This should have been my third warning. Papa had always waited for me on his rocking chair before heading in. I remember brushing the thought away, almost like it was nothing. How could I have been so naïve? Stepping into the house, I kicked off my boots and trudged into the kitchen. There, I had come face to face with the fourth and final sign. On a normal day, Papa and I were the only ones at the table. Mama would be busy knitting or she would have made a trip into town or anything else to help her forget the fact that she had married a farmer. Poor little Ethan would be kept on a short leash, at her side, at all times. Mama didn’t want him turning out like I did: just another farmhand. That morning, however, everyone was already at the table and, noticing by the way Mama looked at me when I stepped in, they had been waiting for me.

  “Papa, what’s wrong?” I sat down across my father, begging for an answer. He refused to utter a word.

  “Nothing’s wrong, sweetheart? Here, I made scrambled eggs.” Mama eagerly pushed a bowl in my direction.

  I helped myself to some breakfast but continued to look at Papa, waiting for an answer. He poked at his bacon, still not making a single sound. It was like that for a while; everyone was quiet. At one-point Mama took out a compact mirror and a blush set. She started fixing her makeup in the middle of breakfast. It just went to show how eager she was to take part in her family's lives. Ethan snickered across from her, obviously amused by the task at hand. The week before, he had pointed out to me that the only other person that he had seen apply makeup was one of the clowns at the circus. We only ever took him to one show but he seemed to remember every moment almost like he had experienced it just days before. I glanced over at him, a huge grin sliding across my face. However, Ethan's cheeky attitude wasn't enough to cut through the tension that morning.

  "Bethany," Mama smiled, "your father and I have some good news."

  "Good news." I repeated, rolling the words around in my mouth. They just didn't seem right coming from her.

  “Yes.” She clapped her hands together, eagerly. “Good news.”

  “Ah-huh…” I nodded, not too convinced

  “Common honey, don’t sound so surprised.” She frowned in disappointment. “Just here me out, okay?”

  Her eyes narrowed into a tight squint. Mama eyed me carefully but I didn’t bother fighting her. I let out a long sigh, stretching my arms out beside my empty plate. It was my signal for her to continue. Plus, part of me actually wanted to hear what she had to say. Finally realizing that she had the spotlight, Mama decided to take her time. She uncoiled her curly brown hair from its prison of a bun. Then, helping herself to another slice of bacon, she spread her napkin out across the table and refolded it onto her lap.

  “Well,” she took a deep breath and spoke in a hushed tone, “a couple of weeks ago, I paid to put an ad in the Parisian Times.”

  “What kind of ad, mother?” I asked in an icy tone. A cold shiver ran down my spine. Something big was coming; I could feel it.

  "Mama found you a husband!” Ethan blurted before slapping his own hand over his mouth. The entire table went silent. I felt my heart skip a beat. She found me a husband? A husband? By, doing WHAT!? Putting an ad in the newspaper? What did that make me; a mail order bride? Were my parents actually trying to sell their only daughter?

  "Now Ethan, dear, it's impolite to yell at the table.” Mama reached across him and snatched the salt shaker like nothing had happened.

  My
voice lowered to just louder than a whisper, "Mama, what's he talking about?"

  She didn't say a word.

  "T-tell me he's lying." I stuttered, "Tell me that Ethan's playing a joke or something."

  Her eyes darted around the room. She, herself knew that she had done something unspeakable.

  "So… what? You’re planning to ship me off to some random stranger half way across the world just so you can earn some quick cash?" My words began to seep with venom. I could feel years of pent up rage surging through my veins. This wasn’t the first time the subject had been brought up. Every time I heard my name and marriage in the same sentence, I would never hesitate to change the subject. However, this time, things were different. This time, it was actually happening.

  “That’s the thing, sweetheart. He’s not just some ‘random guy’” she insisted, curling her fingers into air quotations. “He’s an honored American Soldier. He’s practically a hero where he comes from. I’ve been telling his parents – Mister and Missus Williams – all about you and I’ve even sent them a few dozen photos. They say that you have plenty in common with their son, Andrew, and that he’s eager to meet you as well. Isn’t that fantastic?”

  “No mother. No it’s not” I grimaced.

  “Beth, honey, most girls your age are already married. Don’t you think it’s time that you settled down? I’m only looking out for your future.” She tried desperately to plead her case.

  Mama wasn’t always this traditional. She used to tell me to chase after my dreams and do what I thought was right. Those trips into town she would make weren’t always entirely selfish. Mama used to purchase nursery rhymes and fairy tales from the used book store on Brewer Street. Growing up, I remember her sneaking into my room each night after Papa fell asleep just to read to me. Be it Cinderella, Snow White, or Sleeping Beauty, all of them would end the same; with Mama telling me to leave room for ‘true love’. She pushed the idea that I should do what I love and, only if it was meant to be, somewhere down the road I would meet my future husband. She stopped reading to me when I turned sixteen. She never said anything, nor did I ask why but in that moment, I finally understood. Mama never meant a word she had said. I was a child, so she filled me with what she thought was child-like ideas; ones that she hoped would never threaten her perfect plan for my future. Now that I’m older, she wants to just rip the Band-Aid off ignoring why it was there in the first place. I wasn’t about to let her get away with something like that.