The Summer of '98

by Tay Marley

  “I took the test this morning,” Ellie sniffed and wiped her face. “I told Leroy straight away.”

  “Have you called your mother?”

  Ellie shook her head and I thought now might be a good time to let Mom know what her plan was. “Mom, Ellie is going to go home and . . . well, she’s going to terminate the pregnancy.”

  If I thought Mom looked disappointed before, that was nothing compared to the expression that she was wearing now. Selfishly, I wanted her to help me change Ellie’s mind. But I loved this girl too much to let her feel pressured. That wouldn’t be fair. I prepared to defend her but before I could, Mom nodded.

  “All right, well, the sooner we can arrange the flight home, the better. I’ll organize that and when I have, you can call your mother to let her know you’ll be coming home.” Mom nodded between the two of us, her eyes beginning to glisten. That hurt. “Ellie, I do not put the blame solely on you. You’re a good girl. You’re always welcome in my home. That’s not to say that I’m not disappointed in both of you. For all your mature ways, this was a very immature mistake that should have been avoided. Especially by you, Leroy. I always made sure that you knew better.”

  “I know.” I couldn’t even look at her. “I’m sorry.”

  “Me too,” she said and stood up, leaving the room. It was obvious to me that wasn’t the end of the conversation, but a pin was in it for now. All things considered, it could have gone a lot worse.

  Ellie let out a quivering breath, more tears too. She shot up out of her seat, so I did too, keeping close as she aggressively wiped at her eyes and cheeks. “I’m going to go upstairs,” she whispered. “I need to lie down or pack or something.”

  “Come on,” I told her and took her hand. We walked upstairs, passing Noah as we went. Ellie kept her head down, but it was still painfully obvious that she was upset. By some miracle, Noah didn’t question it or make some careless remark, he just watched us until we were out of sight. I closed Ellie’s bedroom door behind us, pulled her onto the bed with me, and then we snuggled down, getting comfortable.

  “Your mom looked so disappointed,” Ellie said, fighting to keep her voice even. It wouldn’t have mattered how still she kept her voice; her shoulders were shaking. “This isn’t how I wanted the start of our relationship to go, Leroy.”

  “I know, baby,” I murmured, kissing the top of her head. “We’ll get through it.”

  She didn’t respond and I wasn’t sure how to take that because it scared me to think that she didn’t agree. It didn’t help that she wouldn’t let me go back to Waco with her so that we could be together during this process. It made me ill to think about the fact that I couldn’t hold her hand or hug her after the procedure was over. I felt like I should be there for her and it was going to be hard not to be. But respecting her choices seemed more important right now.

  After a while of quietly internalizing my thoughts, or trying to understand them, Ellie’s breathing became shallow and I carefully peered down to see her lids closed, lips parted. Even in her sleep, she looked distressed. Still, it must have been somewhat more peaceful than being awake and endlessly tearing up over the fact that her life had been turned upside down. As much as I wanted to stay right there with her, I was too restless, and I didn’t want to wake her up. Carefully shifting out from under her head, I hopped off the bed and slipped out of the room.

  Dad was on the back deck when I wandered outside, hoping to find some sense of calm in the fresh air. It was still raining—not as heavy as it had been this morning but enough that I stayed under the deck awning. Dad had been out most of the morning and I wasn’t sure when he got back but it was obvious that Mom had found time to fill him in. He watched me, perplexed, as I slowly approached and sat down on the opposite side of the outdoor table. The worst part was the silence while I waited for him to say something. It wasn’t going to be pretty, that was for sure. He’d warned me about this, less than a month ago. Don’t be acting stupid, boy. He was going to blow a fuse and I couldn’t blame him.

  “I love you, son,” he finally said, and for some reason that I couldn’t understand, that sentence alone hit me right in the middle of the chest and I dropped my head into my hands, tears coming on in full force. “It’s going to be okay, Leroy. No matter what happens, all right?”

  I nodded, still hiding my face. It killed me that I’d let my father down. He’d always been there for me, talked to me, communicated as if I were an equal and not a child because he trusted me and trusted that I was responsible. I’d let him down in the one way that he’d always cautioned me about. Suddenly, I felt his hand under my arm, pulling me up out of the chair. As soon as I stood, he pulled me into a tight hug, and I cried even harder. The shame of his disappointment was ten times worse than the shame I’d felt when mom told me off in the living room, and I didn’t think that was possible.

  “I’m sorry,” my voice was muffled by tears and his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Dad.”

  “I know,” he said, holding the back of my head. “It’s not good, son, but it’ll be fine. Your mother and I love you and we’re here. We’re disappointed, but we’re here.”

  We stood like that for a while and the comfort he provided was relief I didn’t think I would have when it came to Dad knowing the truth. I’d expected to be reamed out and told what an idiot I was. Not that he’d ever treated me like that before, so I wasn’t sure where that fear came from. Perhaps it was a self-reflection of how I felt about myself in that moment.

  When we parted, I was calmer, and we sat down in our chairs again. Dad inhaled a deep breath and his gaze went out across the back garden. The lawn was pooling and the flower petals were dotted with raindrops. “I have to ask,” he said. “No condom?”

  I shook my head.

  “Why not?”

  There was no good reason. “It was a heat-of-the-moment thing, I guess. We didn’t talk about it. We . . . we were stupid.”

  “You were,” he said, shrugging unapologetically when I looked at him. “How often have you done that? And I don’t mean with Ellie.”

  “That was the first time,” I mumbled.

  He sighed and rubbed his face. “As much as I hate to ask, did you at least . . . you know . . .”

  He rolled his arm in a circular motion, brows raised as if I should understand what the hell he was asking. “What?”

  “Did you pull out?”

  “Ugh. Yeah, Dad. I did.”

  “Not very effective, told you that before.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  Again, silence descended upon us. We watched the rain pelting down on the pool, creating rippled patterns, listening to the light drum on the tree leaves. Questions kept on forming on the tip of my tongue. Questions about parenthood and fatherhood. But it seemed pointless considering we weren’t going to get that far. So, I sat there and said nothing.

  “Sometimes I forget that you’re only eighteen,” Dad suddenly said, folding his arms across his chest. “You’re mature and sensible for the most part. It’s easy to think you’re a hell of a lot older than you are. But the fact is, you’re a teenager and teenagers make mistakes. Hell, even adults do. I’ve met a ton of grown men who don’t have the amount of common sense that you do.”

  I wasn’t sure how to respond to that.

  He chuckled quietly. “Not sure what my point is, except that you’re a good kid who made a dumb decision. We’ve all been there.”

  Dad probably had an entire past of choices he wasn’t proud of. The man was sixty-five. He’d lived a long life, especially before he had children. But it was hard to imagine him screwing up because he’d always been my hero and I didn’t want to ask him about his past because right now, hearing his cock-ups would make me feel better about mine. And I didn’t deserve that at the moment.

  Mom stepped onto the deck then, her eyes red-rimmed, and I felt so damn awful. “Oh, there y
ou are,” she said. “Ellie’s flight is at eleven in the morning. She needs to be there two hours earlier than that to check in. You’ll need to leave here at about seven. Understood?”

  “Yes, Mom.”

  “The tickets will be waiting at the gate for you, it’s all arranged.”

  “Thank you.”

  She turned around and left again without another word.

  “She’ll be okay,” Dad said when we could no longer hear her footsteps in the kitchen. “She’s just hurting and disappointed. Give her some time.”

  “I don’t blame her. She has every right to be pissed off.”

  Dad wore a small smile. “That’s right. She does.”

  Ellie

  It was dark when I woke up from a nap, one I hadn’t intended to take but must have needed. Even after hours of sleep, I still felt fatigued, my eyes swollen and sore and my head hammering. Crying never did me any favors—it was exhausting, physically and mentally. Instead of getting up to find Leroy, I lay there and stared at the ceiling, thinking about how devastated Eleanor looked when we told her the news. Even worse still when I told her that I wasn’t going to keep it.

  It was obvious that she wanted to be a grandmother but the fact that she didn’t voice that or berate me or attempt to change my mind made me feel even worse. She knew what it meant to be a woman who’d had to fight for her rights. She might have understood me better than anyone. That didn’t mean it wasn’t hurting her—that thought alone threatened to push me over the edge of the pit I’d just barely climbed out of while I slept.

  There was a tap on the door, and I lifted my head to see Leroy hovering at the entrance. I sat up and tried to smile.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

  “I’m not sure.”

  That seemed to be an acceptable answer because he didn’t press me to elaborate. “Mom arranged the flight home. We have to be out of here at seven in the morning.”

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  “You hungry?”

  “Not really,” I said, sitting up beside him. “I don’t have much of an appetite right now. Have you eaten?”

  “Yeah. There’s a plate for you in the fridge that I can heat up when you get hungry.”

  “Would it be rude if I hung out in here for the rest of the night?”

  Leroy slowly shook his head, as if he was unsure of his own answer. “Everyone is sort of scarce at the moment. No idea where Mom is. Dad is out at a friend’s place. Noah went to see Cass. You don’t have to hide out if you’re worried about bumping into people.”

  “No, I’m just tired,” I lied. “I think I’ll sleep some more. After I pack.”

  “Want a hand?”

  “Sure.”

  Leroy and I went through the drawers and we folded clothes in silence. His hands had a slight tremble that I noticed whenever he lowered something into my suitcase. The tension between us was killing me; it felt so unnatural, like neither of us knew how to behave.

  “I haven’t even called Momma,” I said, an immediate knot of nerves forming in my stomach at the thought of having that conversation. “She’s going to want to know what happened, but I don’t think I should tell her over the phone.”

  “It could give her time to swallow the news,” he suggested. “You know, give her time to get over that initial reaction before you have to see each other.”

  “She’s going to lose it,” I said, feeling nauseated.

  “I wish I could be there, Els. I feel like I should be there.”

  This time when I tried to smile, it was full and genuine. His selflessness never failed to amaze me. He wanted nothing but to ensure that I was okay, and it made it harder knowing that I was leaving him behind to do something that he didn’t want for us.

  “Trust me,” I said, putting the last dress into my suitcase. “You’re helping me by not coming. Momma isn’t going to handle this well. She’ll be awful and I don’t want her taking it out on you.”

  He stepped forward and drew me in at the waist, his gaze full of determination as he stared down at me. “I don’t care. I can handle it.”

  “I know you can. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t handle her being nasty toward you. She can be . . . brutal when things upset her. I know what she’s like and I just couldn’t stomach it. It’ll be easier for me not to have to witness that.”

  He chewed the inside of his cheek and nodded. “If that’s what you want.”

  “It is.”

  “You’re going to wait for me, right? Until I get to Waco?”

  His expression was concerned, and I felt my chest tighten at how vulnerable he looked. It broke my heart that he believed anything less. “Of course. Leroy, I love you. Of course I’ll be waiting for you.”

  And I meant what I said. I would wait for him because I loved him, more than anything. But things felt . . . different. Something had shifted and I knew he felt it too. He didn’t like the decision that I was making, and it scared me. It scared me because I worried that in the future, he would resent me for it. And if he made me keep the baby, then I would resent him for that. It seemed like we were trapped in a lose-lose situation and it broke my heart.

  I went to bed after we’d finished packing up the bags. Leroy wanted to stay with me, but I didn’t think that would be a good idea after everything. I couldn’t sleep, though—I was in overdrive. Different thoughts and scenarios plagued me all night, keeping me tossing and turning repeatedly as I stressed out about what I was going to do. First, I had to tell Momma and then I had to book an appointment. How would this change things between Leroy and me? Would he support me in the future? Would he come to hate me for it?

  Would I hate me for it?

  My hand involuntarily came to rest on my stomach, and I felt my chest tighten in response. It was like I had zero control over the thoughts that were shouting at me.

  This baby was a piece of us both.

  I had never experienced such an overwhelming concoction of emotions. It was too much to handle and it made me wish that I had some sort of vision into the future so I could see the outcome of each scenario. It would help to know what was in store for me.

  It would help me feel secure in my choice.

  The next morning, Leroy and I were up and heading out by seven in the morning. There was a solemnness in the air, desperation to change the situation and total devastation because it was impossible to salvage our summer. Eleanor was in the kitchen when I went to use the phone. She was dressed for work and stood in front of the sink, rinsing her coffee cup. I hadn’t seen her since Leroy and I had told her about the pregnancy. The hardest part was the awkward tension between us that hadn’t existed before. We’d become close in such a short time and all I wanted was to have that back.

  “Good morning,” she said. It was kind enough, but I could feel the shift in her tone. “You’re all sorted then?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  “Good,” she came around the kitchen countertop and stood in front of me. “You have a safe flight, all right? Call Leroy to let him know when you’re home.”

  “Mmhmm,” I nodded, fighting tears. “Thank you for having me, and I’m . . . I’m sorry again. About what happened.”

  Her shoulders fell, an overall softness seeping into her demeanor. “It’s forgiven, Ellie. We’re going to miss you. Come back soon, okay?”

  If I answered her, I’d end up letting the floodgates open and I didn’t want to cry again. There had been enough of that last night. She stretched out her arms and wrapped me in a gentle hug, holding me together while fragments of my shattered heart threatened to fall on the floor. When she let me go, she didn’t hang around, but left the room before I was able to apologize for the thousandth time. As much as I wanted to say goodbye to Jacob, I knew he would be asleep for a while longer, so I went over to the telephone and dialed Amber
’s number.

  “Hello?” She sounded half asleep, which didn’t surprise me. It was only an hour ahead in Texas.

  “Hey, it’s me,” I said.

  “Els? What’s the matter?”

  “I’m coming home a little earlier than planned and I was wondering if you could pick me up from the airport?”

  “Is everything okay? Why are you coming home early?”

  I clutched the phone in my hand and felt my chin trembling. “I can’t talk about it right now. Can you pick me up this morning?”

  “Of course,” she sounded more awake than she had before. “What time does the flight get in?”

  “Twelve,” I said.

  “I’ll be there.”

  I gave her the flight details and we ended the call. I was immensely grateful to have such a good friend who was willing to show up, no questions asked. Telling Momma the truth over the phone wasn’t right—as much as I wanted to take the easy way out, I needed to tell her in person and if I let her know that I was coming home early, she would have pressed to know why. This gave me a little more time to prepare for how I would break the news.

  It was warm outside; the rain had stopped overnight and the sun was peeping out from behind early-morning clouds that had been dipped in orange ink and left to dry in the sun. It was a gorgeous morning and I wished I could have been in the right frame of mind to appreciate it. Leroy was leaning against the trunk of the car, arms folded, gaze distant. The sunlight kissed the top of his head and gave him a halo. The thought of missing him made me ache.

  We made eye contact just as Cass came running up the footpath with her curls in a bun and her overalls barely buttoned up. “Ellie!” She waved me down and seemed relieved to see that I hadn’t left yet. She stopped in front of me and gave Leroy a brief wave.

  “I’ll wait in the car,” he said, and Cass gripped my elbow and pulled me a little farther from the vehicle.

  “What happened?”

  “Noah didn’t fill you in?”