by Gail Haris
“I never did.”
“I’m glad. Because I’ve finally come to mine.” He grabs my face and crashes his mouth to mine.
I push against his hard, solid chest. “No.”
“No?”
I climb out of the bed and stand tall. “No.”
His eyes zero in on my fingers as I bring them to my lips. As much as I crave him, I won’t do this to myself. What assurances do I have that he won’t leave me again? I’m better than that. I have to be because I’m about to become a mother. This little person will need me to set a good example and be strong.
“Why? You said—”
“I never did come to my senses. That doesn’t mean I’ve lost every shred of dignity. I can’t do this with you. You don’t get to just swoop in and claim me. Pick up the pieces you left—”
“You left me!”
“To protect myself. Sorry I wanted to leave with some of my pride intact after you dismissed me so easily. Three times. What made the last time so different? Because you say you were going to ask me out? You could’ve called. Maybe you only claim that time was going to be different because you missed your chance to reject me again. How many times am I supposed to hear that I was a mistake?”
“No, I told you why. It’s different now.”
“You’re damn right it is. I’m growing up. I’m going to be a mother. I’m not doing this with you again. Not now. I have to go.”
A muscle in his strong, sharp jaw ticks. His eyes study me. Finally, he pulls his phone out of his pocket, looks down at the screen, and says, “Alright. Let’s go then.”
Trent calls a friend to cover his shift at the hospital. He does some volunteer work there, and he’s a low-end paid aide to a senior physical therapist. Then he texts one of his buddies to take notes for him in another class. Once he has his schedule cleared, we get in his SUV and drive toward Lumberton, MO. I’m nervous during the hour and a half drive, but Trent keeps reassuring me that everything will be fine.
We decide to tell my parents first. Whereas Trent grew up in a mini-mansion, I grew up in a simple single-story home in a small subdivision that was, literally, one street in between two cotton fields. My house is nice, but very humble, compared to the Randall’s. It’s pink brick with wood trimming and shutters. Trent pulls his SUV, that’s nicer and newer than either one of my parents’ cars, into the driveway. He turns the key to shut-off the engine. We both take a deep breath and then simultaneously turn to smile at each other. He takes my hand and entwines our fingers, then brings it to his lips, placing a gentle kiss. With a firm grip on my hand, he stares into my eyes. “We can do this. Together.”
The way he says it, I know he’s not just talking about this, as in telling our parents, but this, as in having a baby. After all, if anyone can do this, it’s Trent. He has and will always be the town’s hero and golden boy. Except—what would the town think if they knew he knocked up a minor?
When I walk around the SUV, Trent places his hand on my lower back. I open the front door and find my parents sitting at the dining room table. Our house has an open floor plan, so the living room, dining room and kitchen are all open and visible to each other. There’s a single hallway that leads to a bedroom, the master bedroom, bathroom, and laundry room.
“Sweetheart! Oh, and you brought Trent!” My mother, a short and feisty woman, leaps from the chair and comes running toward us with open arms. She squeezes and scatters kisses all over me. Then she turns her attention to Trent, giving him the same treatment.
My tall, lanky father is the more reserved one. He strolls over, slowly, and wraps his long skinny arms around me. Then he politely nods to Trent. He’s civil, at best, around any of the Randall’s. He tolerates them because of my friendship, but he doesn’t trust them, because they’re rich. Ridiculous as it sounds, he’s automatically prejudiced and suspicious as to how and why they have so much. To prove even more how narrow-minded he can be, he feels that life must be so easy for them because of all their money. I couldn’t disagree more.
When Landon died, my father had the nerve to speak poorly of him in front of me. “Because he, too, had everything handed to him. His parents made him think he was invincible. Too much power and wealth make a person forget to appreciate life.” We had a huge fight after that comment. Landon was special to me, and both my parents knew that. I was ashamed at how callous my father was capable of being. The list goes on and on with arguments we’ve had. I know the trials and grief that family has gone through. I’ve felt and experienced most of their suffering right along with them. I know Dad has worked hard all his life. He still does. We’re the classic middle-class small-town Americans. I know he grew up with far less than us, and he’s worked since he was thirteen. He has been in a factory all my life. In the summer and fall, he takes on a second job, working on the farms. Nothing has even been given to Quinn Abernathy, that’s for sure.
My mother is jealous of Melissa, but she doesn’t express or show her feelings like Dad. She loved Landon like a son. She thinks Trent is wasting his time with school and should become a model. “All that celebrity potential is just going to waste.” Take one glance at him and you’re captivated. Even when he was a kid, I remember my mom telling Trent’s mom that she should send his photos to an agent or scout. Mrs. Randall would laugh and tell my mother she was too kind. Of course, Melissa knew her son was handsome and would grow up to be a gorgeous man, but she always encouraged her children to strive for intelligent greatness.
My mother beams and ushers us farther into the living room. “Let’s all have a seat. Tell us how school’s going? Trent, almost finished, right?”
Trent nods and smiles. “Almost finished with this program. I’ll get my bachelor’s degree, but then I’ll have to continue roughly another three years and complete my residency for my DTP.”
“DTP?” My father asks.
“To complete my Doctor of Physical Therapy degree. I’m hoping to finish everything with only seven years of education. That’s the plan, anyway.”
My mother shifts the focus to me, and my father’s face lights up. “So, what do we owe to this surprise visit? Everything okay?”
I begin to stutter, and my voice quivers as I attempt to tell them the reason for our visit. “Um. E-everything has been going better than I was ex-expec-ting…” That last word was difficult to get out. Nice choice of words. “I need to tell you two something.”
Trent takes my hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. My father’s eyes shoot daggers at him. He lets out a huff. “Are you two together now? Is that what this is all about? You know she’s not old enough for you, son.”
I shake my head and take my hand from Trent’s. “We’re not together.”
My father gives a single nod and narrows his eyes at Trent. Mom frowns, in disappointment. My heartrate picks up. And before I chicken out, I blurt out, “I’m pregnant.”
My mother covers her gasp with her hands. My father literally leaps out of his chair and goes at Trent. He grabs him by the shirt collar and swings a hard right-hook on his jaw. Blood splatters onto my arm, and I scream. My mother tries to push my father off Trent. “Quinn! Quinn Abernathy get off that boy now!”
“Not now, Susan! This little prick got our baby girl pregnant! I’m going to kill his sorry ass!” My father is choking Trent, and I’m terrified he’s about to hit him again. I scream at Trent to get away, but he doesn’t move. He’s bigger than my father, but he refuses to fight back. My mother slaps my father on the back of the head.
“Dammit Quinn! Get off him. How’s he supposed to take care of our daughter if he’s dead? Sit back down before I call the police! Are you listening to me?”
Trent is starting to struggle now. He grabs my father’s skinny arms, but they don’t move. His face is turning red, and his eyes are watering. I’m frightened and panicking. “Daddy, stop it! He isn’t the father!”
My father immediately drops his hands. “What the hell did you say?”
I gulp and keep
my eyes on Trent, watching the color of his face slowly turn back to normal. Except for his jaw, it’s an angry red. “Landon’s the father.”
Trent stares at me, and I see a hundred different emotions cross his face. I’m protecting you for your own good, idiot. He shouldn’t look so pained. Besides, he’s had plenty of chances to be with me. I avert my eyes back to my stunned father. He collapses back into his chair. “I thought we raised you better.”
My mother hesitantly sits back down. “I noticed you put on a little weight. You look pale, but I figured it’s because you’re not wearing any makeup. How far along are you?” I knew it. I knew she wouldn’t miss my weight gain. She’s always been more concerned with my looks than me. She’s never been impressed with my academic achievements. I think she secretly had always hoped I’d snag a rich man to take care of me. Bringing Trent here is probably the proudest of me she’s ever been. I don’t need a man to take care of me.
To avoid meeting her eyes, I look at my feet. Trent takes my hand, and I peek up at him. He gives me a reassuring nod. I sigh and stare back down. “I’m roughly four months. I’m not a hundred percent positive.”
She jumps to her feet and yells, “What? You’re four months and just now telling us? I guess I should be glad you didn’t wait for the baby to come and tell us! Were we just going to get a call from the hospital, letting us know we’re grandparents? Hell, you practically waited long enough you could’ve just introduced us to our first grandchild! For Pete’s sake.” She sucks in a breath, and her eyes widen. “That means…”
My father finishes her thought. “She was still in high school.”
“Of course, I was still in high school. Landon passed away before graduation. I’d still be in high school if I hadn’t graduated early,” I mumble.
My father grits his teeth, and I can tell he’s struggling to restrain himself. “Don’t get smart.” Trent hardens his jaw and scowls at my father. Daddy looks to me and points. “I’m disappointed in you, young lady.” His voice cracks. “You’re seventeen. We raised you better.”
Mom looks to Trent and whispers, “how’d your parents take the news?”
“We’re on our way there now.” I stand up and drag Trent with me. “We really need to get going, if we’re going to make it back before it gets too late. I have class in the morning, and Trent has work, and we—”
My father cuts me off. “Stop your rambling. What’s with you two?” He waves his pointer finger back and forth between us. “Are you two shacking up together? Why is he here?”
“I’m not shacking up with anyone! He drove me. Offering moral support.”
My mother looks to Daddy and mumbles under her breath, “seems a little pointless now, whether they’re shacking up or not. Damage’s already done.”
I push Trent out the front door and turn to kiss my parents’ goodbye. My mother kisses me and then whispers in my ear, “we’re not finished with this conversation, young lady.”
I lean to kiss my father, but he jerks away from me. He’s never rejected me like that. Unbelievable pain fills my heart. He must’ve heard Mom’s comment because he commands, “yes, we are. We’re finished with this conversation because there’s nothing else to discuss. She knew better than to spread her legs. How could she be so stupid?” He stares at me in evident disbelief. “How could you be so damn stupid? How are you planning to raise this baby?”
My mom nods her head. “Maybe we should consider other options. You still have your whole life ahead of you.” She steps closer to me and gently places a hand on my cheek. “You don’t have to go through with this.”
“I still have time to think about adoption,” I whisper.
“No, Sweetheart. I mean this, as in,” she makes a point of looking down at my stomach, “this. Your body will never be the same. A pregnancy ruins a woman’s body. Why do you think I only had one?”
I’m not against abortion, but the thought leaves a sour taste in my mouth. The thought of adoption does as well. The thought of giving this baby up has me trembling and my heart beating so hard that I think I’ll die from the anxiety, but, at the same time, having the baby makes my chest tighten and my stomach twist in knots, so badly, I could throw up. Honestly, I don’t know what’s the right thing to do. Shit. What am I going to do? Maybe I’m crazy, foolish, and naïve for wanting to try and do this—but this pregnancy happened during the worst time of my life. I lost someone, but now I’m gaining someone, as well. Either this is horrible timing or perfect timing, only time will tell.
My mother continues, as if she either can’t read the hurt in my eyes, or she doesn’t care. “There’s no father—”
“The child has a father. I’ll step in as the father,” Trent states.
“You going to marry her?” My mother perks up. I wouldn’t be surprised if she only said all of that to bait Trent. Who knows at this point.
“Support her and a child that’s not yours?” my father asks.
I don’t hear the rest. I rush to the truck and quickly close myself inside.
As we drive toward Trent’s parents’ house, I apologize for my father attacking him. He doesn’t respond. I turn my body in the seat, so I can face him, while he drives. “Did you hear me? I’m sorry. About my dad.”
“I deserved it. I took your virginity. Slept with you, when I shouldn’t have. He didn’t know that part, but I knew I deserved it. What if the same happened to one of my sisters? Or…you could be carrying a girl, ya know? I can’t imagine how he feels right now.”
My eyes begin to water at the thought we could be expecting a baby girl. I think I’d like that. A boy would be nice, too. It makes sense now why Trent didn’t fight back. He felt he deserved it. I think about what he said if it was my daughter. Yeah, you totally deserved it.
“Rachel. Let me step in, let me be the father figure, since Landon can’t be here. If that’s what you want. Do you want this baby?”
Do I want this baby? At first, I didn’t. I’m only seventeen! I’m confused, in grief, and I don’t have a clue what I’m doing in my life or what I even want to do. But then, why does the thought of not having this baby make me want to cry? I feel a headache coming on. I don’t answer him, and he doesn’t push the issue; he’s giving me some space. The issue of him stepping in as Daddy is far from over, because Trent doesn’t give up on anything that easily. We pull into the massive circle drive of his family’s elaborate home. The Randall’s are a wealthy family, but Richard has raised his children to be humble. If I wasn’t at their house all the time, I’d forget how well off they are. Landon only acted snooty over clothing, but, other than that, he was extremely down-to-earth. Denise is a true fashionista. She does carry an air about her, but she is the baby of the family, and by far, the most spoiled. I’ve never heard Trent be snooty or brag about anything. I’m sure attending public schools and occasionally having his kids work at his construction company helped keep them level-headed.
We exit the car, and Trent hurries around to my side to take my hand. He opens the front door for me, and we enter the grand foyer. He calls out, and his mother comes rushing into the room. As soon as she takes in Trent’s face, she gasps in horror. “Oh, my baby. What happened? Are you alright? Of course, you’re not, look at you! Let me get some ice.”
He keeps trying to shoo her, but she isn’t backing off. I smile watching them. This isn’t an unusual sight. When he would have sports-related injuries, Melissa would fuss over him, while he insisted, he was fine. No matter how severe the damage, he was fine. No matter how minor the injury, she would fuss over him.
“Mom, stop. Mom. Mom, it’s fine. Mom. Is Dad home?”
She releases him and watches him closely. “No, he’s at a construction site. Here, let’s get some ice on that. Darling, what happened?”
“Can you please call him and ask him to come home?”
Slowly, she nods, while keeping her eyes on him. After a minute, she leads us into the kitchen with a wary expression. We sit down at the tab
le, while Melissa takes an ice pack out of the freezer. She gently applies it to his jaw and continues to search his eyes. In a voice, barely above a whisper, she asks, “Baby, are you in trouble? You can tell me. I’ll always be proud of you. No matter what. Never forget that Son, never.”
He takes the ice pack from her and rolls his eyes. “I’m not in any trouble, Mom. Can you please call Dad? Rachel has something to tell you both.”
She stands up straight and tilts her head. Not taking her eyes off Trent, she pulls her cell phone from her back pocket. She calls Richard and asks him to come home immediately. I don’t miss her suspicious tone when she tells him that Trent is home with me. Once she ends the call, she sits down across from us, with her hands casually folded together on top of the table, looking back and forth between the two of us. Taking a moment to look each one of us in the eye, she asks in a voice entirely too calm, “Will you at least give me a hint as to what happened to you?”
“When Dad gets here.”
She bites her bottom lip and drums her fingernails on the table. Suddenly, she perks up. “Rachel, will you help me in the kitchen?”
“Mom.” Trent groans.
“Well, you can’t, you’re injured.”
“Mom, don’t—”
“Come on, Sweetie. Trent, we’ll be right back. You keep that ice on your cheek.”
I can’t help but smile. I follow Melissa a few feet over into the kitchen. As soon as we clear the doorway, she spins around to face me. Looking me up and down, she whispers, “How far along are you?”