Calling Home

by Janna McMahan

  “Yeah, I do.”

  “Warm enough?”

  “Sure. This is nice. When you moving in?”

  “Spring sometime. I got the water pump fixed, but as you can see, it’ll be too cold to stay here this winter. I’ll probably spend all next summer putting in insulation and caulking the windows. I guess I’ll put a stove in the bedroom.”

  “That’s so old-timey.”

  “Maybe I’ll get me a big old dog to keep me warm at night.”

  “You can have Moonpie. He misses Will a lot.”

  “Poor old Moonpie.”

  “He just mopes around the house. I guess that’s all of us, though. Just moping around.” A log shifted and the fire snapped. “I’m sorry.”

  “About what?”

  “About crying tonight. About everything. I’ve not been the sweetest person to you. I wasn’t a very good girlfriend.”

  “You done all right.”

  “No. You’re really good to me and I’ve just been a big bitch.”

  Outside the bare windows, snow fell ghostly against the distance.

  “It’s like we’re the only people on Earth,” Shannon said.

  “That would suit me.”

  Shannon pulled the sleeping bag closer.

  “Cold?” Kerry asked.

  “A little. Will you hold me?”

  “Come here. Give me your sleeping bag.”

  He laid one bag out flat on the rug. “Lay down,” he said and Shannon did. He held the other bag up to the flames and when it was scorching hot he laid it over her and she closed her eyes and smiled.

  “Come here,” she said. “Now you’re going to get cold.”

  “I’ve got an idea.” While she lay still, Kerry zipped the two bags together around her, and after kicking off his shoes and shedding his jacket, he crawled in behind her. “I’ll keep your back warm.” Kerry balled up an old afghan for their pillow and pulled her close to him.

  “This is nice,” she said. The fire prickled her cheeks with heat and made her close her eyes. Shannon suddenly realized that it had been months since anyone had held her. She hadn’t had a real hug since Will died, and funeral hugs weren’t the kind she needed. When she was small, Shannon used to lie on the couch with her father on Sunday mornings. He would hold her close to him while they watched “The Untouchables” and “Lost in Space.” Back then, after a nightmare, Shannon would crawl into bed with her parents. She felt safe between them, their rhythmic breathing saying that nobody was mad and fighting. She read somewhere that children needed to be hugged every day, but at what point would a person grow out of that need? Maybe never.

  She wiggled around in the tight bag until she was facing Kerry. He grinned and fire flashed in his eyes. He never let his hair grow much over the tops of his ears, but now it curled against his forehead like a young boy who’d been playing hard. She reached up and pulled a curl with her finger. “Kiss me,” she whispered. He studied her face and she thought that he might not oblige, but then he bent toward her and brushed her lips so lightly that she barely felt it. She lay still with her eyes closed while he took his time gently kissing her cheeks, her eyes, her nose and finally her mouth again. His breath was warm against her skin and when he moved to her neck, goose bumps tingled up her back and down her arms.

  “Should I stop?” he asked.

  She opened her eyes. “No.” Shannon slid her jacket over her head and her sweater came off too. She was left with Will’s old A-shirt, and Kerry slowly ran a finger down between her breasts touching a glimmer of sweat there. Shannon lifted the filmy shirt over her head. He inhaled softly and brought both his hands to cup her. He kissed her there, little by little working his way around her pale breasts. He took a nipple into his mouth and brushed her other with his fingertips. She said, “Oh,” softly and let out a shuttering breath.

  She kissed him then—long and desperately. It was his turn to pull back and he said, “You sure?” She didn’t answer, but pulled his sweater off. She giggled while he shimmied out of his jeans and yanked them up out of the sleeping bag. He was very serious when he took a condom out of his wallet in the back pocket and laid it gently near them. It was easier for her to shed her jeans, and soon they were pressed together with only socks and underwear between them. They lay face to face and Kerry ran his hand down her ribs and over her hip and under the band of her panties. He slid them down and he lay on his side while he explored her body, his fingers and tongue roaming in and out of her. A tear slipped from the edge of her eye, but this time he didn’t stop. She was scared, but she wanted this. Wanted it to be nice, to be so special that it erased everything that had happened. She touched his face. He loved her. She might never find someone who loved her as much. She shyly reached for him and was surprised by how hard and alive he was down there.

  “I’m sure,” she whispered. He moved in between her legs and pressed against her.

  “Can I feel you before I put on the rubber? I promise not to come.”

  “Okay,” she said weakly. She braced for pain.

  “You can trust me,” he said. And she knew she could. He guided himself into her and she encircled him with her legs. Her body and her heart and her mind were all wrapped around him. She was startled by how wonderful it felt, better than anything she had imagined. This was how it was supposed to be.

  “I love you,” he said. “I love you, Shannon.”

  “I know,” she said. “I love you, too.”

  26

  “It could be wrong,” Liz said.

  Shannon rested her face in her hands. Both girls were sitting on the fluffy mat in Liz’s pink bathroom. Happy pink pigs danced across the shower curtain. Delicate miniature perfume bottles on the shelf above the toilet quivered in Shannon’s vision.

  “Maybe we didn’t put in enough pee,” Liz said. They both stared at the blue tube.

  “Want me to put another dropper in?”

  “No.”

  “I could get another test for you.”

  “I missed my period and my boobs are so sore I feel like somebody hit me in the chest with a two-by-four. The test says I’m pregnant. I know I am.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  Shannon wiped her eyes and leaned back against the cool tile. “I’m not going to have it. That’s all. I’m not going to have it.”

  “You’re going to get an abortion?”

  “I have to.”

  “You don’t have to. What about Kerry? Don’t you think he should have a say in what happens to the baby?”

  “It’s not a baby.”

  “Of course, it’s a baby.”

  “No it’s not. It’s a glob of cells smaller than a pencil eraser right now.”

  “Oh.”

  “State preliminaries for Junior Miss are next month. I can’t show up there with a big old belly. I’ll lose my scholarship money. They’d give my crown to the first runner-up. This is definitely not the spirit of Junior Miss.” Shannon let go with a high, nearly hysterical giggle. “I can’t be pregnant in front of the whole town. Everybody’s watching me.”

  “You need a second opinion on this. Go down to the health department and get a pregnancy test.”

  “Somebody would see me and tell Momma. I just know it.”

  “Maybe she’ll help you.”

  “Oh, no. She’s got enough problems, and don’t say let Kerry take me. I don’t want him to know. I don’t want anybody to know. You’ve got to help me. It’s got to be you.”

  “But I don’t know anything about this.”

  “Surely some girls at your school have had one. Don’t you know anybody?”

  “I have a cousin at UK. I bet she would know what to do.”

  Trees so vivid in October were now bare and scraggly. At a distance, against the smooth rise and fall of snow-dusted hills, the tree cover reminded Shannon of a man’s five o’clock shadow. They drove road cuts through hills, the limestone walls dripping rigid icicles like built-up candle wax. Liz drove so cautiously
that when they hit dotted lines, cars zoomed around them in passing lanes. She picked up speed on the Bluegrass Parkway. They thumped over rumble strips, pulled into a toll booth, and Shannon handed Liz change. Shannon paid for everything—gas, their food, the toll. Liz had been so nice to arrange everything and Shannon didn’t want to ask her for any money. Shannon had even offered to pay for the phone calls to Lexington, but since she quit the marina her cash reserves were down. She had gone to her father and he’d given her all the money in his wallet, no questions asked. Luckily it was enough. Word had it that he was living in some tiny trailer out in the woods in Green County, but she hadn’t asked him if he had slid that far. Shannon wiped fog from the passenger window and peered out at the fences and white fields of the first horse farms that ringed Lexington.

  “I’ll have to go to the mall tomorrow sometime and get presents so our trip will look legit,” Liz said. “We can’t come home from Christmas shopping empty-handed.”

  “That’s a good idea.”

  It had been a horrible and confusing couple of days. Shannon had taken the pee test on Friday and spent that afternoon trying to find information on abortion in the library. Liz managed to get things lined up with a clinic for Monday, and her cousin was letting them stay with her on campus until Shannon felt like going home. Shannon spent part of Saturday dangling from the sunroof of a blue Corvette freezing and tossing peppermints. Her boobs were so swollen that she could barely cram them into the green sparkly dress. Liz, who had lent her a fancy coat and gloves, sat in the front seat and held Shannon’s ankles so she didn’t tumble when the car jerked forward. A marching band squeaked out Christmas tunes behind her. Occasionally they stopped and marched to the drummer, a rhythm that made Shannon think about people lined up before a firing squad.

  “What did you find out at the library?” Liz asked.

  “The only thing I could find on abortion was a file of old articles on Roe v. Wade,” Shannon said. She shifted in the seat and jiggled her foot anxiously. “I found an article about a girl named Maria Shaw. She was a student at Western who tried to get an abortion a couple of years ago, but she was turned away by every doctor in Louisville because she was more than eighteen weeks pregnant. She ended up in an emergency room with a knitting needle inside her, and they charged her with performing an abortion on herself.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “She was found innocent on grounds of insanity. You’d have to be insane to stick a knitting needle up inside you.”

  But when it came down to it, Shannon could envision that desperation. She had carefully reshelved the library information so nobody would know what she had researched, but she suspected that even if everything went perfectly that she would still be found out.

  In Lexington, Shannon recognized Rose Street and was surprised by how empty it was, but then again it was Sunday and UK had let out for Christmas break. A couple of streets later, Liz pulled up in front of a three-story brick house on Linden Walk Drive. An old sofa sagged on the front porch and a bunch of UK stickers peeled from the front columns.

  “We use the side entrance,” Liz said. They climbed two staircases and knocked on a door while standing on steps. It opened, and a girl with the shortest hair Shannon had ever seen invited them in.

  “Hey, cousin,” the girl said and gave Liz a hug. “Hi, you must be Shannon. I’m Lori.”

  “Hi.”

  “Come on in and sit down. You want a beer or something?”

  “I think we both do,” said Liz.

  “You okay?” Lori asked Shannon.

  Shannon shrugged.

  “If you have any questions you can ask me. I had one last year.”

  Lori handed Shannon a beer and the girls sat at the kitchen table. Shannon took in the room around her—mismatched furniture and overflowing ashtrays. The countertop was packed with dishes, but they appeared to be clean and waiting to be put away. Linoleum was peeling and paint flaked off the ceiling, but the walls were painted a cheerful yellow and posters of rock bands circled the giant room. It seemed like a free and happy place. Shannon liked it.

  “Does it hurt?” Shannon finally asked.

  Lori took a sip of beer and said, “Not really. They give you enough drugs to keep you comfortable.”

  “But what does it feel like?”

  “Not a lot different than having a pelvic exam, but it takes longer.”

  “I’ve never had a pelvic exam.”

  “Really? You have to relax and think about something else. It sounds creepy. They use a suction thing.”

  Shannon put her head down on the table. Liz rubbed her back and Lori grabbed a box of tissues.

  “This is a hell of a way to start your Christmas vacation,” Lori said. “Don’t sweat it. Lots of girls have abortions. It’s nothing to be ashamed of and it’s safe now.”

  “You’re sure, aren’t you?” said Liz. “You’re not having second thoughts?”

  “No.” Shannon blew her nose. “No. I know I’m doing the right thing. I do not want a baby.”

  “So why are you crying?” Liz asked.

  “Because this is awful,” said Shannon. “A terrible way to spend your Christmas money.”

  “What about the guy?” Lori asked. “The least the guy could do is pay for it.”

  “She doesn’t want him to know,” Liz said. “He’d want to get married. He’s a really nice guy.”

  Lori lit a cigarette and moved to a shabby armchair. “You’re too young to get married.”

  The clinic was located in a squat, nondescript building on a side street away from the traffic of a main road. Liz parked at the far end of the parking lot and cut the engine. Both girls stared out at a weed-throttled field behind the clinic where trash peeked from beneath a frozen crust of snow.

  “Ready?” Liz gave Shannon a look that said she could still change her mind.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be.” When Shannon stepped from the car she was startled by a teenager with a baby in a puffy snow suit perched on one of her hips. The girl smiled at Shannon and bounced the child.

  “Hi there,” the girl said cheerfully. “Look at my baby. Isn’t she beautiful?”

  “Sure is,” Shannon said and walked toward the clinic.

  “You’re not going in there are you?” The baby gurgled and then sneezed; a crust of snot ringed her tiny nose.

  It dawned on Shannon that the girl was here to confront her, pink, chubby baby and all. She kept walking toward the entrance with the girl scrambling to keep up. A larger woman moved in front of Shannon. “You’re not going to kill your baby are you?” the woman said. “Look at this,” and she held up a color photograph of a bloody fetus and Shannon stopped.

  “You’re sick,” Shannon said. “Get away from me.”

  “It’s Christmas,” the girl with the baby said. “Where would the world be if Mary had murdered baby Jesus? Don’t you know that the Bible says, ’Thou shalt not kill?’”

  More people crowded around Shannon and they started touching her and showing her more photos and she struggled to get past them. She caught a glimpse of Liz and the same thing was happening to her and Liz was about to cry. “Stop it!” Liz was shouting. She slapped at the people and cried out, “Shannon!”

  “Murderer! Murderer!” the group chanted when Shannon pushed past them. She wanted to cry out, too, but she couldn’t get enough air. She wanted to get back in the car and drive away from these hateful people with feverish eyes and angry, ugly mouths. “You’re killing an innocent baby! You’ll regret this the rest of your life!” She couldn’t breathe. She clawed one of the horrible photographs from a man’s hand on her way to meet the asphalt. When she opened her eyes she was lying in a recliner, covered with a blanket, but shivering.

  “Here she comes,” somebody said. “Hey there, welcome back.”

  Shannon tried to sit up, but the nurse held her down. “Don’t move so fast. Stay there.”

  “Is it over?” Shannon asked.

  Th
e nurse chuckled. “Not quite, honey. You just made it through the parking lot.”

  She checked Shannon’s blood pressure. Her hands were cool and smooth. “I apologize that our security guard wasn’t out there to help you, but he was escorting somebody else inside when you pulled up. We can usually keep them at bay a little better than that.”

  “How long was I out?”

  “Oh, no time at all. A minute or two. Your friend’s in the other room. I think she’s really shaken up.”

  “She doesn’t want to be here.”

  “Honey, nobody wants to be here.”

  “Who are those people?”

  “They’re our local crazies. I can’t wait until they pass a law to keep them off our property.” She pulled the blood pressure cuff off Shannon’s arm. “Your pressure’s still low. Can you sit up and come on in my office? We need to talk.”

  Shannon’s legs were shaky, but she followed the nurse into an office and sat in a metal chair that was cold even through her blue jeans. There was a poster of a sunset with poetry too small for Shannon to read on the wall. Another showed a wet grumpy kitten peering out from a bucket. It made Shannon think about the kittens in her grandfather’s barn and she wondered if they would be there at Christmas or if he would have drowned them by then. That thought made her start crying. The nurse handed her a box of tissues.

  “I’m Carolyn,” the nurse said. “I need to ask you some questions and then we’ll check to make sure you’re pregnant.”

  “Okay.”

  “When was your last period?”

  The nurse slid a calendar across the table, but Shannon didn’t have to look at it.

  “October.”

  “Do you know when you got pregnant?”

  “October 22.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I’m pretty sure. I mean I did it one other time, but we used something and I had missed my period before that.”

  “Your partner, does he know?”

  “No. He’s not my partner.”

  “You want to talk about him?”

  “No. He’s…he’s just some guy.”

  “Some guy you know?”