by L. L. Akers
“Mom... I can’t marry Jake. If I’m pregnant, the baby’s not his.” Gabby felt the tears start to build up. “We haven’t hooked up yet, Mom,”
“Really? After all the nights Mark has caught you two snuggled up on your bunk and had to wake Jake up to meet his curfew? You haven’t been having sex with him?”
“No! I haven’t. After what happened with Gabe, I wanted us to date at least a few months to be sure Jake wasn’t like him, and he’s not. Jake is fine with waiting as long as I want to. Now how am I going to explain this to him? I’ve never even told him about Gabe!” Gabby screeched, starting to really cry now. She felt her world begin to crumble.
Gabby paced the floor with the phone in her hand. She didn’t want to upset Olivia, but who else could she talk to? She’d always gone to Olivia with her problems, and Olivia had always come to her. Why should that change just because they were so far apart in distance. Her hand shook as she dialed the phone. She wished she could see her face-to-face with this one though.
“Hey, it’s me.”
“Gabby, how are you?” Olivia asked.
“I’m okay. How’s it going at Uncle Jackson’s?” Gabby answered, trying to keep her voice from trembling.
“It’s going great. Uncle Jackson is so sweet and I love it out here at the farm. Plenty of peace and quiet. My job is going great, and I’ve made a few friends—all girls—and have been going out some.”
Olivia paused, waiting for Gabby to fill her in. When she didn’t, Gabby continued.
“I’m going to church again. I feel such a peace here. It’s like I’m remembering who I was before Billy... and speaking of, you’re not going to believe what I did. Since I finally got away from him, for good this time, I got a tattoo! The exact same one Mom got when she finally felt free again. It’s so cool, but it hurt. What about you? You and Jake still doing great?”
Wow, Gabby thought, Olivia’s life seems to be going wonderful. Gabby hated to even bring her down with her own doom and gloom.
“Umm, yeah... about that. Olivia, I have to break up with him,” Gabby said, then broke out in sobs. She couldn’t help it. Hearing Olivia’s voice on the other end of the line caused her to completely lose it. Gabby needed her sister here to help her deal with this.
“What? Why? What did he do?” Olivia asked, sounding disappointed.
“He didn’t do anything. It’s me. I’m pregnant!” Gabby cried.
“Oh. Well, that’s a shock, Gabby, but it’s not the end of the world. I thought you guys really liked each other? As a matter of fact, the last time we talked, you said you were sure he was in love with you and you thought just maybe you loved him back... So what’s the problem?”
“The problem is I haven’t been with him yet. The baby is Gabe’s!”
“Who the hell is Gabe?”
“You remember... from my birthday four months ago? That Gabe...” Gabby said, sniffling around her words.
“Oh shit.”
“Yeah. Oh shit is right.”
“So you’re four months pregnant and just finding this out?” Olivia asked in disbelief.
“Yes. Four months. I’m still not really showing. Jake’s been taking me out to eat almost every night this summer and I’ve gained some weight and got a little pooch belly now, but until I started getting sick a few weeks ago and finally told Mom about it today, I had no idea. You know my monthly is never consistent, and I’ve spotted a few days each month so that wasn’t a red flag. And I guess because we’re so tall and thin, we just don’t show. Mom said she didn’t show until she was six or seven months along with Emma.”
“Are you sure? Did you take a pregnancy test?”
“I took three. They were all positive. Olivia, I can’t bring a baby into this apartment, and I can’t afford to move out. What am I going to do?” Gabby said, nearly hysterical.
“I don’t know just yet, Gabby. First of all, calm down. Let it all sink in. You have options, you know. You just need to be calm enough to think them all through,” Olivia answered steadily. “I think you need to tell Jake right away. He’s a good guy; he’ll help you figure it out.”
“I can’t! Then he’s going to wonder why I was willing to sleep with Gabe on our one and only date, but I’ve made him wait months! I’ll lose Jake when he finds out I’m carrying someone else’s baby. I just know I will, Olivia...” Gabby cried.
“Bullshit, Gabby. Jake’s not like that. Just tell him the truth. You won’t be able to keep it from him much longer anyway. Just talk to him. Then call me back. I’m sorry, but I really have to leave for work in ten minutes or I’ll be late. It’s all going to be all right, okay?”
“Okay,” Gabby squeaked out around her tears. “I’ll call you tomorrow, then.”
“Wait... Gabby. Just checking, have you seen or heard from Billy?”
“No. Not since that first week. You knew about that, when our neighbor—the cop—escorted him off the apartment property in handcuffs and assured him he wasn’t welcome here.”
“Good. If you see or hear from him, give me a heads up. Love you, bye.” Olivia hung up.
CHAPTER 14
“Come on, Gabby. No use staying here moping over Jake. Come with me and I’ll teach you how to balance the register and close down the bar,” Mark offered.
“I’m not moping, Mark. I told Jake to take a night to go out with his friends. It’s not fair for him to be glued to me when I don’t even know what I’m going to do yet about the baby,” Gabby answered defensively.
Gabby tried not to be too testy with Mark. In the week since she’d found out about the baby and told Jake, Mark had been nothing but kind. Maybe I’ve been wrong about him all along, Gabby thought. She still didn’t trust him, but until she had some solid proof—or Emma told them what had really been happening—Gabby was forced to be civil. According to her mom, he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.
“Well, you’re not doing anything anyway, and I could use the help. Your sister’s going to be back this week so you may as well come out and be around grownups for a few hours before you start your mother hen routine with her again,” Mark said, smiling.
Hmm, wonder if he knows that routine is all because of him, Gabby thought, studying him with new eyes. His typical sneer was gone, replaced by what looked like a genuine smile. If he does, he sure doesn’t act like it bothers him. Maybe he’s not guilty after all?
“Okay, but what about when Mom gets home. Don’t you think she’ll wonder where we’re both at?”
“We’ll just leave her a note. You write it. Tell her ‘Mark took me with him to the bar,’” he answered, shrugging his shoulders. “She’ll probably go straight to sleep when she gets home from work anyway. She hasn’t felt like staying up for anything lately.”
“Hi, Mom!” Gabby said, stumbling into the door of the apartment at 3:00 a.m., almost falling down, then laughing hysterically, Mark following behind her, reaching out and grabbing her shoulders to steady her, laughing with her.
“Where the hell have you two been?” Mom asked, looking mad as hell.
“We left you a note. Didn’t you see it? I took her with me to the bar. A couple of the guys thought it would be funny to introduce her to lemonhead shooters. Looks like she had one too many,” Mark flippantly answered, smiling. This time his sneer was back. But it was directed at Mom, not Gabby.
Wait a minute, that’s my sneer... Gabby thought and began to laugh again. He always uses the “other smile” on Mom. She made her way to the couch, confused at Mark’s tone and the look on his face. She’d never seen him smile like that at Mom; that smirk was usually reserved for her only, when he was being evil. And she hadn’t ever heard Mom mad at Mark before either. It was always Gabby mad at Mark and Mom defending him. Everything is topsy-turvy. Maybe it’s the alcohol... making me hear and see things that aren’t there, Gabby thought.
She nearly fell down while trying to sit as the room began to spin around her. She was never one for drinking much, usually two wine
coolers and she felt a buzz. Now she just felt sick and her tongue felt like it was wearing a sweater, trying to choke her. She gagged, holding back the urge to vomit, not sure if she could make it to the bathroom without hitting the floor. The floor seemed to be moving too, along with the walls.
“You stupid son of a bitch... she’s pregnant!” Mom screamed. “How dare you take her out there and get her drunk! What else did you do to her, Mark?”
“Uh-oh. Mom’s mad. Told you she’d be mad...” Gabby slurred. Wait a minute, Gabby thought with a drunk-induced delayed reaction. Did she just accuse Mark of doing something sexual to me? Ewww.
“Mom! That’s disgusting. You just made me vomit in my own mouth. I wouldn’t let Mark touch me even if I was dead!”
“You, shut the hell up before I slap the shit out of you,” Mom snapped at Gabby, putting a finger in her face.
Mark stepped between them. “Honey, what are you so mad about? It’s no big deal. I just felt bad for her sitting here wondering and worrying about Jake all by herself. So I took her with me. I kept an eye on her.”
“I’ll just bet you did, you piece of shit. Don’t think I haven’t seen the way you look at her!” Mom screamed, now in Mark’s face, or as far as she could get to it. He was over half a foot taller than she was. “I’ve seen the way you look at all my girls... and I warned you I’d kill you if I found out you touched one of them! So now what? Now I’m too old for you all of a sudden? You got to take my daughter out? You do like ‘em young, don’t ya, Mark?”
Oh shit, where’d that come from? Gabby thought, abruptly feeling much more sober.
“You fucking bitch!” Mark said, exploding and grabbing Mom around the neck, lifting her clear off the ground. If you accuse me of that shit again, I’ll fucking kill you!”
Again? Gabby thought. When did she accuse him of it the first time? Could it be she’d believed me after all, but Mark had talked his way out of it and smoothed it over? Shit... while I’m sitting here analyzing their conversation, Mom’s face is turning blue!
“Mark! Put her down. Her face is turning blue!” Gabby screamed, finding her feet under her and moving to his side in an instant, beating her fists against him. Mom’s feet dangled a good six inches off the floor as Mark held her up to his face like she weighed no more than a burlap bag of seed, her feet kicking, her hands trying to pry his fingers off her neck. “Mark! You’re hurting my mom! Stop! Please, put her down!”
“You ungrateful fucking bitch! I cook for you, pick up your brat from school every day, help you all I can around here, and all you do is accuse me and nag, nag, nag...” Mark screamed at Mom, his face quickly turning crimson, his eyeballs bulging.
Oh my God! She looks like she’s really choking to death, Gabby thought as she continued to beat against Mark, feeling like nothing more than an irritating mosquito. Gabby didn’t know what to do... Wait—Tim! The cop. Gabby took off through the door to the other side of the hallway, beating on Tim’s door as hard as she could, screaming for help.
She’d met Tim several times, passing him in the stairwell here and also at work, where she frequently rang up his groceries, but with Mom’s crazy work hours, Tim had never met her mother—or Mark—but he was a cop. She knew he’d help. Even if he hadn’t been a cop, he was a real nice guy and would still probably help, if she could just get him to the door. She beat even harder, her fist quickly tiring, having already hit Mark dozens of times.
Tim opened the door surprisingly fast, in his sleep pants, looking disheveled and groggy—holding a gun at his side. He must’ve been asleep on the couch to get there so fast. Weird time for Gabby’s mind to be racing, but she thought, Cops sleep with their gun?
“Tim, help me! Mark’s choking my mom. Quick!”
Gabby grabbed his hand—the one without the gun—and quickly pulled him across the small hallway into their apartment, leaving his door hanging open. Mark and Mom were just as she’d left them, standing just inside the apartment in the living room, Mom hanging in the air, caught in Mark’s grip, her legs barely even kicking now, just randomly twitching back and forth. She was still trying to pry her fingers under his to get loose, but the fight was almost out of her. Her face was covered in tears, her skin blue now. The only sound Gabby heard from her was one strange ehhehhehh sound. Mark screamed at her, out of control.
In three steps, Tim was at Mark’s side, glaring up into his face.
“Sir! Put her down. Now!” he demanded in a firm voice, barking the order like a drill sergeant.
Mark didn’t even look at Tim. He was completely blinded to his surroundings, buried in the storm of his rage at Gabby’s mom, unable to hear over the winds of his own screeching voice.
“SIR! This is the POLICE! Put the lady down. NOW!” Tim screamed louder at Mark, this time holding the gun to his temple using both his hands. He too could see Mom was close to unconsciousness and got real serious about this business real fast.
Mark must’ve felt the cold barrel of the gun. He dropped Mom and she fell to the floor, gasping and choking. Gabby was at her side in a second. Mom soon caught her breath, but it was raspy, labored.
“Mom, are you okay?” Gabby asked, barely able to get the words out, her throat packed with emotion: fear, embarrassment, and relief all mixed together.
“Ma’am, if you are able to, please move away from this man,” Tim instructed while still holding the gun to Mark’s head, although he’d pulled back just a tiny bit, removing the skin-to-iron contact.
Mom didn’t move right away, still in shock and trying to suck in precious air.
“Gabby, help your mom move to the other side of the room. To the couch. Then get her a glass of water, quick,” Tim instructed while still standing guard over Mark.
Mark had yet to say a word or move an inch. Gabby could see his eyes darting sideways trying to see Tim but not wanting to move his head. There was still a gun next to it.
Gabby helped Mom to the couch, and then ran to the kitchen for the water. Mom took it and gulped down the entire glass, coughing some more afterward.
“Sir, I’m going to pull the gun away from you now, slowly. As you probably know, a Glock does not have an active safety. I am keeping my finger on the trigger for now—you’re a pretty big guy and you are clearly upset—I don’t want any misunderstandings here. I’m going to take three steps back. Do not move and do not make any sudden movements.” Tim instructed in his police voice, issuing a very clear warning.
Tim took three steps back and then instructed Mark to sit down on the floor where he stood.
That must be degrading, Gabby thought and almost giggled, hysteria threatening to overtake her now that Tim was there. Look at him struggling to get his big-ass lanky frame onto the floor into the kindergarten crisscross-applesauce position. Serves him right.
Once Mark had settled uncomfortably on the floor, Tim took a position from behind, where he could still watch over him while looking at Mom.
“Ma’am, I’m going to have to borrow your phone to call this in. I seem to be at a disadvantage without my uniform,” Tim said.
“Call it in? He’s going to jail? What if I don’t press charges?” Mom choked out in a squeaky, high voice that sounded nothing like her, looking panicked.
“Ma’am, whether you press charges or not, he’ll have to be arrested. He’ll be processed for criminal domestic violence at the very least. After the magistrate judge sees my report, which I’ll have to write up in the morning, the judge will make the decision whether to refer this to the district attorney to pick up charges or not,” Tim explained.
“But I don’t want him to go to jail. It was just one fight,” Mom pleaded, holding her hands around her throat as if guiding the words out through the pain.
“Ma’am, this looked a bit more serious than just one fight. If your daughter hadn’t woke me up or if I hadn’t been there, I’m not sure how much longer you would’ve been. I can see the bruises forming on your neck as you sit there. Are you not seeing the serio
usness of this attack?” Tim asked in disbelief.
Mark sat on the floor, looking directly at Mom with big puppy-dog eyes, silently begging her to forgive him and get him out of this.
Of course, Mom folded.
“I understand, officer, and he did get out of control. But he’s never done that before, and it was really my fault. I started it,” Mom said, taking the blame upon herself—typical textbook victim style.
“Mom. Really? He just tried to freakin’ kill you!” Gabby exclaimed. “Let him go to jail. Let him stay there. I don’t want him here. Please!”
“Gabby, watch yourself. It’s because of you that we’re in this mess. Mark has never laid a finger on me before. Everybody needs a second chance. He didn’t mean to do it,” Mom insisted.
There’s no getting through to her, Gabby thought. Tim and I both may as well just give up. Just like with Dad, she’ll listen to his “I’m so sorry” and “I’ll never do it again” and the game is on. Mom doesn’t even know how to stop being a victim.
“Here’s the phone, Tim,” Gabby said, gladly grabbing it from the end table and handing it over. At least this meant Mark would be gone tonight—even if it was just one night.
“Thanks, Gabby. Before I call this in, I need to talk to you too. I couldn’t help but notice you smell very strongly of alcohol—and I know you’re not of legal drinking age,” Tim said, raising an eyebrow and looking at Gabby sternly. “So who gave you alcohol?”
Gabby looked at Mark, who was still sitting on the floor, like a disobedient oversized child in timeout. It was so pitiful looking, it was almost funny. He pleaded with her too, using his eyes, but Gabby returned his look with one of contempt. Mark lowered his eyes to the floor, awaiting and expecting her vengeance.
If Gabby admitted she was served at his bar, he was in much more trouble, fines and possibly losing his license to sell. That would shut down his bar. She thought about the satisfaction of telling, but in the back of her mind realized it would only cause more problems with her and Mom. She met her mother’s eyes and the plea was there, just waiting on her to do the right thing. Once more, Gabby was expected to be the adult.
