A Pact For Life

by Elliot, Graham

  She was pregnant.

  Fucking Cale, she thought to herself. Fucking Cale Dawkins has ruined my life.

  A SERIES OF HAPPY MOMENTS

  The Diana Young Pregnancy Update

  Estimated weeks till delivery: 35

  Shape of stomach: The most toned and flat it will ever be

  Food Craving: Coffee

  Mood: More furious with each unanswered call

  Diana gripped the phone tighter as the ringing continued without an answer. It was the eighth time that day she tried to reach Cale, and the eighth time she got his voice mail. So much for telling him the news.

  She was calling on a Monday, one day after waking up with morning sickness. Throughout that Sunday she had bought, took, rebought, and retook pregnancy tests. They all came up positive, and she felt like suing the manufacturer of the original negative test not only for false advertising, but for the emotional stress caused by negligence.

  In her earlier calls, a few voice mails were left, and the importance of the message was stressed, but she didn't explicitly say she was pregnant. A message of that importance didn't belong in a voice mail. That is, until her eighth call.

  Cale was in his studio/apartment which was actually a converted warehouse hangar. In his right hand were various commission proposals he was forced to accept in order to pay for Diana's ring while his left hand held a Bombay on the rocks. His face? Dread with a dash of the abyss. The week long marijuana binge was over, and his sluggishness went with it, but he still felt lost and abandoned.

  As it had done many times earlier, his cell phone lit up but didn't make a noise or vibrate. Those functions were turned off after Diana's third call. Still though, he couldn't help but notice the screen lit.

  He reached over and hit 'ignore'. Each call was tougher than the last to ignore, but he saw this dismissal as doing both of them a favor.

  Obviously, she had second thoughts about separating forever, and was calling to reconcile, but Cale knew the pact would be meaningless if he picked up the phone. He needed to be strong enough for the both of them. It was Alcoholics Anonymous, she was desperately in need of alcohol, and he was her sponsor. It was his duty to save her.

  The voice mail icon had been on since her first call, and he decided to go ahead and erase them while he was sober rather than take the chance of being drunk, playing them, and succumbing to his own drunk, lonely, lost mind.

  First message, 7:55 AM, Monday, November 8th

  “Cale, it's Di...”

  Message deleted, next message, 8:47 AM, Monday, November 8th

  “Cale, it's me agai...”

  Message deleted, next message, 10:11 AM, Monday, November 8th

  “Cale, I assume you're awake by...”

  Message deleted, next message, 11:22 AM, Monday, November 8th

  “Cale, Please call me...”

  Message deleted, next message, 12:07 AM, Monday, November 8th

  “Cale, this is import...”

  Message deleted, next message, 12:14 AM, Monday, November 8th

  “Cale, I don't mean to scar...”

  Message deleted, next message, 12:33 AM, Monday, November 8th

  “Cale, I just talked to Nick and he said he saw...”

  Message deleted, next message, 1:00 AM, Monday, November 8th

  “Listen, asshole! I don't know what your problem is or why you haven't called me back, but you've forced me to do this over the phone. I'm pregnant. The test was wrong. God, what the hell is wrong with you? Why won't you pick up? I was going to see if you wanted to get together and talk about it, but if you are going to keep avoiding me, then never mind. I just thought I would do the right thing, and... fuck you!”

  Message saved, no new messages

  “Diana, your 1:30 is here,” Jenny announced to Diana through her phone.

  Diana opened her drawer and pulled out a pocket mirror to check how she looked. With everything in order, she walked out to the reception area where Dr. Andrew Finnegan was sitting in a black suit, white shirt, and red tie. It was a quite a change from the last time she saw him – jogging shorts and a race T-shirt.

  Sticking out her hand, she said confidently, “Dr. Finnegan, hi, I'm Diana Young. It's nice to finally meet you.”

  Andrew stood up and never seemed to stop rising. Diana was too busy focusing on his height that she didn't notice the look of surprise on his face. He shook her hand with his right hand and with his left, pointed at her and asked, “You were at the race on Saturday, weren't you?”

  “Yes... I was there.” Diana couldn't hold back her smile as she asked, “Did Jamie tell you that?”

  Trying to act casual, Andrew said, “He might have said something about it. Oh, and from one professional to another, you can just call me Andrew.”

  Even though he asked her to be informal, Diana still had a tough time turning the switch off. “Well... Andrew, if you're ready to begin, please follow me to the conference room, and we can go over your case.”

  “Sounds good. I brought over a summary of my assets, my ex-wife's history, the last five year's tax returns, and a signed power of attorney. Is there anything else I can get you?”

  Diana was surprised at how prepared he was. Usually it's a fight for her with accountants, other lawyers, and ex-family to get this information, but Andrew had taken care of everything for her. It reminded her of something she would do.

  In the conference room, they sat across from each other at a table built for twenty. After several back and forths of boring legal talk and customary document signing, Andrew said, “Could you mark on that asset summary sheet that I would like to keep my house in Vail? I also have a condo here in the city, but Kristen can have that if I comes down to one or the other.”

  Diana read over the appraised value of the condo, $600,000, and the house, $2,770,000, and said, “Since you didn't have any kids, I should be able to retain whichever property you prefer. Without a prenuptial agreement though, we might have some problems with alimony, but that will depend on who she has for representation.”

  “I'm not sure if she has hired anyone, it was always my job to handle those things. Hopefully, I'll let you know sometime this week.”

  And just like that, Andrew had handled everything Diana needed to do for the initial meeting. She didn't know why, but she wanted to stall him from leaving. Just a few more minutes to learn more about him. Alas, nothing came to her, and she said, “Andrew, this might sound unprofessional, but we can end this meeting right now if you'd like. Usually these initial consultations are to inform you what documents we need, to have you sign those forms, and to pay the retainer, but you've already done all that. As of now, you're set until I hear from your ex-wife's lawyer.”

  Andrew handed her all of the signed forms and said, “Do you have a second to talk non-business?”

  Diana's heart skipped a beat, but she hid it well with a smile and a nod.

  “I actually have a confession to make. Jamie didn't tell me about you at the race. I saw you in the crowd when I was up on stage. You're... pretty distinctive.”

  Usually calling someone 'pretty distinctive' would be a polite way of saying 'weird as hell', but that wasn't Andrew's intention. He wanted to say 'unforgettably beautiful', but was too much of a professional to hit on his lawyer.

  Diana fiddled with her hands under the table unsure how to take the comment. With courage, she said, “I remember seeing you on stage too. You had quite the following there.”

  Andrew's tan face turned a little red and he said, “Sorry about that. I used to play basketball at Kansas and a lot of them are alumni. It's hard to tell them I'm not interested without being rude. Most of those women are just like my ex-wife. Kristen wasn't exactly the sharpest knife...” Andrew paused for a moment in order to think of something less rude to say about his ex-wife. “It's amazing how some people can make you appreciate an intelligent woman.”

  Although he wasn't dumb by any means, this comment made Diana think of Cale. Why didn't h
e answer his phone? The more Diana thought about him, the more she wanted him out of her mind. Luckily for her, the man sitting across from her made this rather easy, The more she talked to responsible, polished Andrew, the more Cale disappeared.

  Cale arrived at Diana's office with grass-stained jeans, and a dirty, gray shirt, but no ring. He had spent the better part of the last few hours combing through the yards in Diana's neighborhood in a futile search.

  As he walked down the hallway to Diana's office, Jenny stepped out, and was dumbfounded at the sight of him. “Cale!? What are you doing here? I thought you guys broke up?”

  “Can I see her?”

  “Are you sure she wants you here? What about the pact?”

  “You don't know?”

  “Don't know what?”

  Cale didn't debate. Didn't weigh his opinions. If Diana wanted her pregnancy to be a secret, well too damn bad. “She's pregnant.”

  Jenny put both of her hands on her mouth to stifle the cry of jubilation. Running at Cale, she gave him a big hug and cried, “Good job, buddy! Now just don't screw up for the next eighteen years and you're gold.”

  While Jenny still had her arms around Cale, Jamie walked around the corner and said, “Hey Jenny, do you have any contact information for...” Noticing her hugging Cale, he stopped and said, “Oh, I'm terribly sorry. Excuse me.”

  Jenny backed away and said, “It's alright Jamie, you can come in. This is Diana's...friend, Cale.”

  Jamie stuck out his hand and said very properly, “How are you doing?” expecting Cale to reciprocate the question after giving some standard, meaningless answer like 'good'. No one ever gives an actual response to this question... except for Cale.

  “I feel like I just got off the world's biggest roller coaster where every seat had a fist-sized dildo facing up. I like the suit, man. You have some real Tom Cruise Firm action going on.”

  “Huh?”

  “Ahh, you're too young for that reference, that movie probably came out before you were born.”

  After he said that, an unusual observation hit Cale. This was the first time in his life he told someone 'it was before you were born' in regard to a pop culture reference. It made him feel old.

  “Well I know Tom Cruise,” Jamie responded uneasily. As well as he knew Diana, he couldn't figure out how she was friends with someone like Cale. “I should probably get back to work. It was nice to meet you.”

  “See you around, Tom Cruise,” Cale said as Jamie left. Turning back to Jenny, he asked, “Was that reference too outdated?”

  She shrugged.

  “When did I get so old? Any of my pop culture references now have a minimum age of like twenty-seven.” Cale didn't want to go any farther into this topic. For some people, the gradual decay of hipness due to age can be tough to accept.

  Diana's voice echoed from down the hall. “Thank you for coming in, Andrew. I think we have a good chance of emerging from this relatively unscathed.”

  Cale peeked his head around the corner and saw her talking to an exceedingly tall man in front of the main entrance. He turned back to Jenny and asked, “So what do I do? She is already pissed at me for not picking up the phone earlier. Oh, and she's gonna be furious that I didn't tell her I was coming here.”

  “My oh my, Cale Dawkins. Are you scared to face your baby mama?”

  Cale laughed at the fact he now had a baby mama. “Let's just say it's not my wish to die today. Or lose either ball or penis for that matter.”

  “Is that something Diana has threatened before?”

  “If I said yes, would you believe it?”

  “If you don't want to make her any madder, I would wait till after she finishes with that man out there. He's a new client and looks to be a good catch for Diana.”

  “The way you said that almost makes me jealous. Thank God she’s my baby mama.”

  Andrew’s voice floated towards him, “It was nice to see you again, Diana. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call.”

  While Diana watched Andrew walk out of her office and bypass the elevator in favor of the stairs, a familiar voice behind her said, “You know, I’ve always despised those guys who use the ‘I would turn gay for him’ line, but I think that Greek God has changed my mind.”

  She turned around with a face that was impossible to read. “Mary, I’ll be back,” Diana told the head receptionist, and left the office with Cale trailing closely behind.

  They stepped into the elevator without saying a word. Diana pressed the button for the lobby, stepped back, and gave Cale a slap he saw coming yet didn’t flinch.

  Rubbing the red hand print on his face, he said, “I thought I told you if you really wanted to do some damage, then you need to use the side of your palm. Want a do-over?”

  All of Diana's anger left with that slap. She looked at Cale who was giving her the other side of his cheek to hit, and leaned over to kiss his cheek, then his lips. As she pulled away, she said, “Let’s get some lunch and decide on what to do.”

  Over the next two weeks...

  Their first date: “You are not getting suspenders, Cale.” Diana complained, and folded her arms so she wouldn't touch any of the clothes on the thrift store racks.

  “Come on, darlin’. Tuxedo style, black suspenders. It'll be a good look.”

  “No, they're too weird.”

  Cale leaned close, grinned, and whispered, “I hate to break this to you, but you have no style.”

  “Oh, I have no style!? That really means a lot coming from a guy who only wears a gray shirt and jeans. By the way, I've never asked, but why are those the only clothes you own?”

  Cale looked around the store at the hipsters wearing tight pants, vintage jackets, and whatever ironic accessories they could find. He looked at the skiers and snowboarders in their neon everything. He looked at the drunks in their flannel shirts, ripped jeans, and beanies. At the sight of all these people, he simply said, “I guess I just wanna stand out.”

  Diana hit him on the chest and said, “Clever, mister.”

  “Why don't you go look for clothes for yourself? You might find something you like for cheap.”

  Diana looked over at a bin with a sign, 'Women's Bras, Ten Cents', and felt a twinge in her stomach reminiscent of her earlier morning sickness. “No. Come on Cale, let's go. This place stinks and who knows what diseases you’re likely to get from the clothes.”

  Setting the suspenders back on a hook, Cale said, “Never-mind, I wouldn't have a clue how to attach these to my jeans. Are you sure you want to go? There is a stack of wedding dresses in the back you might want to take a gander at?”

  “Once again, I didn't agree to marry you. These dates are just a trial run. It'll be a miracle in itself if we can last through the entire pregnancy.”

  Cale smiled and held out his hand for Diana, but she refused. He pleaded, “Oh come on, they wash all these clothes after they're donated.”

  Diana shook her head 'no' and started to walk to the front without Cale. Coming up behind her, he wrapped his arms around her body and started kissing up and down her neck.

  “Cale, you need to wash your hands!”

  Cale grinned and touched her left cheek. She screamed the type of scream people do when sprayed by a water hose on a hot day - a playful request to stop. After she stopped squirming, she turned around to face him and said, “I hope you know I really do hate you.”

  He nodded, and they kissed.

  Their third night: Cale dropped his head onto Diana's chest and slid down her body, finally stopping between her thighs. As he started on her, she started on him.

  ”Cale, I don't want to end up like the girls I grew up with. Their lives are depressing. I'm serious. My resume will always say more about me than my Facebook page. I'll kill myself before I have the status, Making dinner for the family: macaroni and cheese. Yum yum. or Soccer practice, let's go Tigers! or any other meaningless event those people feel the world wants to read. I will not be some pill popping housew
ife whose husband fucks her while she thinks about the mail man. Here put this pillow under me for leverage.”

  “I am better than the men I work with and yet they get ahead because of their dicks and history. They'll make deals in locker rooms and strip clubs while I have to work twice as hard for the same accomplishments. Oh fuck, Cale! The wives of those men have no idea how powerless they really are. Those tragic women give up everything just to raise kids who carry someone else's name!”

  “Right there, right there! I, for one, won't be a hypocrite! I won't be one of those women who blindly accept less than what they want. I know too much. I know how to live alone. I know how to make money. I know I want a lot from myself and for myself."

  “Today I drove behind this minivan with a decal of a stick figure man, woman, two boys, a girl, and a dog. Never! That will never be me! Keep going on that spot! So I passed the sorry looking woman driving and all I could notice was her knotty hair, God-awful sweater, lack of makeup, and a face that looked way too old for her age. That woman was probably younger than me and has officially declared her life over. Until the day she dies, that woman will only experience joy and sadness through her kids, and ultimately grandchildren. Which I'm sure she'll push for relentlessly.”

  "Men can make women doubt themselves. I do not doubt myself. I'm strong enough to work and have a family, and not be punished for it. God damn, Cale!"

  Her voice trailed off as she bucked her hips in response to Cale's tongue. After thirty seconds of cries and screams, she fell back onto her bed as the only sound came from her heavy breathing. Cale looked up and arched an eyebrow in bemusement of where that rant came from. Looking down at him, she said playfully, “Your chin is shiny" and let out one more large exhale.

  Their fifth date: The night sky in Denver during late fall and winter is either one of two things. The first is a cloudless black where a few stars hang down for all the city to see. The second is an orange haze that blankets the city in a light almost as bright as day. It was this bright orange blanket that Diana and Cale found themselves under as they walked the streets hand in hand.