Falling Up

by Melody Carlson

  “Are you going to tell your mom?”

  She looks shocked now. “Are you kidding?”

  “How about a counselor? Maybe someone at my church.”

  “You mean Ben's church.”

  “It's God's church, Nat.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “Well, you should probably at least see your doctor,” I say. “I read that in the instructions for the pregnancy test.”

  “Sure, like I'm going to go to the family doc and tell him I'm knocked up. You bet.”

  “They have a confidentiality policy, Nat.”

  “For minors?”

  I shrug. “How far along do you think you are?”

  “Based on my calculations and what little research I've done, the baby would be due around New Year's. I'm about two months pregnant.”

  I slowly shake my head, like it's still sinking in. “This is so weird, Nat. I mean, I can't imagine you with a baby”

  “No one said I have to have this baby, Kim. I haven't made up my mind yet.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean…1 can get an abortion.”

  “But you're opposed to abortion, Nat. I've heard you going on and on about it, almost ever since I've known you. You and your mom even picketed the clinics. And you've got that Right to Life poster in your room.”

  “I took it down.”

  “But still…”

  “People change, Kim.”

  “But an abortion?” I study my friend carefully.

  “You used to act like you supported abortion, Km.”

  I consider this. “I think I just liked to take the opposite position of you, playing devil's advocate, you know? And besides, that's before I became a Christian. And like you said, people can change.”

  “So we've flip-flopped. You're the conservative Christian now, and I'm the liberal—” She stops herself short of saying she's not a Christian. That gives me hope.

  “I think you're just scared. I don't think you've really changed your position on anything. You're just feeling cornered, and you don't know what to do.”

  “Well, what would you do, Km? I mean, if you were in my shoes?”

  I want to tell her that, first of all, I wouldn't be in her shoes, but that sounds so mean and proud. And I remember how I used to feel when she came across sounding like that to me. “I'm not sure. But the honest truth is, I don't think I'd consider abortion.”

  “And why not?”

  “Several reasons… For one thing, I think about my own birth mother. I'm sure she could've gotten an abortion, maybe she even considered it. But if she had…well…1 wouldn't be here, would I? And then I think about Mom, and even though she's not around, I think she'd want me to have the baby.”

  “And then what?” she asks. “Drop out of school to change diapers?”

  “I don't know, Nat. Maybe I'd consider adoption. I'm not sure. But why are we putting me on the spot? You're the one who's pregnant. You're the one who has to figure this out.”

  Our conversation is finally running out of steam. It is past noon and we both decide we are hungry. Eager to put this hot topic to rest, I offer to treat us to burgers and fries. “But let's not talk about pregnancy, abortions, or babies,” I say as we drive to Dairy Queen. And once we get there, we just act like a couple of normal girls who are just starting summer break. And I have to say that Natalie is more like her old self. And it isn't too bad.

  Okay, it was obvious she needed to talk to someone about this. It's like she had this pressure valve that needed to be released, and afterward she was actually able to relax a little. Even her face looked less stressed.

  Of course, I realize this is just the beginning, and she'll need to talk again. And again and again. And she needs to come to grips with this whole thing. And hopefully, she'll reach the place where she can talk to someone else—someone with knowledge and experience—someone with better advice than I can give. Sure, I might sound good on paper as Just Jamie, but I don't think I'm cut out to advise Natalie. The truth is, I am feeling more stressed than ever right now. It's a heavy load to carry—being the only one (besides God) who knows that her best friend is pregnant. Like I needed this right now.

  Ten

  Saturday, June 1

  As if playing a violin solo for a wedding isn't stressful enough—especially a wedding for someone as sweet and good as Caitlin O'Conner where you really don't want to mess up—I had to bear the additional stress of knowing that Caitlin's only brother, Benjamin, is the father of my best friends unborn baby. I felt like I was playing a part in a soap opera! I tried not to think about that prior to the ceremony and certainly not as I played “Ave Maria.”

  In fact, as I stood there playing my solo, positioned off to one side in the front of the beautiful church with the stained-glass windows illuminated by the sun, the notes reverberating through the spacious sanctuary, I felt as if my mom was right there with me. It was one of those amazing moments when everything in life seems to be nearly perfect, like the universe is in order and God is smiling down on us. And even though I knew in my head that my mom was gone, I felt her presence with me in the strongest way—like I could almost reach out and touch her. And for those few brief moments, it was truly comforting.

  And the wedding ceremony was beautiful. Not unlike the sort of wedding I've dreamed of having some day. But as I sat there watching the whole thing, it occurred to me that my mother wouldn't be there to help me with it, to plan all those details and to pick things out. And despite that earlier feeling of her presence, I began to miss her all over again. Fortunately a lot of people cry at weddings, and I doubt that anyone thought it strange that I had the sniffles too. And at least I was sitting off to the side in the shadows, where I doubt anyone noticed.

  Afterward, I was tempted to skip the reception, except that I had already invited Matthew to be my date. Besides, it was supposed to be a very fun evening. And Chloe and Allie would be there, as well as others from the youth group. And of course, Ben. I would have to make sure to avoid any conversations with him. How awkward.

  Natalie had come over to my house earlier this afternoon. She said it was to help me with my hair (for the wedding), but I think it was only to make sure that I was perfectly clear about Ben.

  “You are not to say one word to him,” she told me in a firm voice.

  “Not even hello?”

  She poked my head with the end of the comb. “You know what I mean, Kim. Don't say or do anything that could give this away.”

  “Do you really think I'd want to?”

  “Well, you might do it accidentally.”

  “I'm not stupid, Natalie.”

  Finally, she was convinced. And my hair didn't look too bad either. “Thanks,” I told her. “What do I owe you?”

  She moaned and flopped down on my bed. “I feel like Cinderella.”

  “Huh?”

  “You know, left out of everything. I didn't get to go to the prom. And now, even though I'm invited, I don't get to go to Caitlin's wedding.”

  “Why don't you go?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. Caitlin invited me before Ben and I broke up. I'm sure she wants me to show up now.”

  “She probably wouldn't mind… “

  “Well, Ben would. Besides, I might fall apart and tell everyone that I'm pregnant. No, it's better that I stay home. Just like Cinderella.”

  “What does that make me?” I asked. “The wicked stepsister?”

  “No. But it just doesn't seem fair. I'm the one who should be Ben's date today. Especially considering…well, you know.”

  I just sadly shook my head. “You're right, Nat, it doesn't seem fair.”

  And the more I think about it, it really doesn't seem fair. I mean, Ben is just as much to blame for Natalie's situation as she is. And yet, he's out there doing things and having fun, and Nat's the one who's suffering. Even at the wedding reception tonight, Ben was with Torrey, laughing and dancing and whooping it up and having a great ti
me. Meanwhile, poor Nat's stuck at home with morning sickness or whatever you call it. She told me that she's thrown up several times already. It must be miserable.

  “Didn't you take any precautions?” I had asked her earlier this afternoon.

  She kind of laughed. “Precautions?”

  “You know,” I continued. “Birth control. They teach about it in health class?”

  “Think about it, Kim,” she said with some impatience. “Ben and I were both Christians, both dedicated to abstinence. It's not like he had a bunch of condoms in his pocket. And I wasn't exactly on the pill, if you know what I mean.”

  “So you did IT without any protection?”

  She sighed. “Yeah, at least the first time or two. I mean, it's not like we planned it all out.”

  “Obviously.”

  “We did use some things, you know, after that.

  I was tempted to ask her how many times they actually had sex, but it felt like “too much information,” and so I didn't push her. But based on what she'd told me before, I didn't think they'd really done it too many times. Still, they'd done it enough to get pregnant—or to transmit an STD, although that would've been unlikely since they'd both been virgins.

  One of the uncomfortable things about Natalie's pregnancy is that I have to keep it to myself. She made me promise not to tell anyone, including (and specifically) Matthew. And it's hard to act as if everything's fine when I'm feeling pretty freaked for my best friend.

  Like tonight at the wedding reception. I suppose I was being a little quiet as we sat at a table off to one side. And in all fairness, that was partly due to feeling sad about Mom, but I was also feeling seriously irked as I watched Ben and Torrey clowning around as if they didn't have a care in the world.

  “What's wrong?” Matthew asked me.

  “Nothing,” I said quickly.

  “Come on, Kim. I know when something's bugging you. What's up?”

  I just shrugged and told him I was fine and not to worry. But he persisted. I suspect he thought it had something to do with him or us. Finally, I just told him about how it had occurred to me that Mom wouldn't be around to help with my wedding.

  “I mean, if I ever have a wedding,” I threw in. “Its not like I'm planning one.” Then I laughed.

  He didn't say anything, but he did seem relieved. And it wasn't as if I'd lied to him exactly. It was true that I had been missing my mom. Still, it wasn't completly honest either. I'll be so glad when Natalie is ready to have this out in the open. Not that she'll send out announcements to everyone, but all this secrecy is stressing me out. Speaking of getting things out in the open, I answered a funny letter this week.

  Dear Jamie,

  I'm supposed to be pet sitting my friend's canary Tweety while she's at camp this week. After feeding Tweety yesterday, I accidentally left the cage door open, and he somehow escaped. By the time I figured it out, all that was left of him was yellow feathers, and my cat was nowhere to be seen. This is my question-do you think it would be wrong to replace Tweety with another canary that looks just like him? They have some great look-alikes at Petco, and I don't think my friend would be able to tell the difference. What would you do?

  Bird Killer

  P.S. Can you answer this privately since my friend reads your column?

  So I sent Bird Killer a letter on Wednesday. Hopefully she got it in time.

  Dear BK,

  My experience is that honesty really is the best policy. It may appear simpler to lie (at first), but it can get really involved on down the line. For instance, what if a mutual friend saw you buying a canary at the pet store and informed your friend? Then what would you do? I suggest that you break the sad news to her gently Tell her how very sorry you are and then offer to replace Tweety with another bird and see what she says. For all you know, she may be tired of birds and want a guinea pig. Anyway good luck.

  Just Jamie

  Too bad all of life's questions aren't that simple.

  Sunday, June 2

  Dad was acting really strange this afternoon. Not strange as in stuck in his grief like he usually is, but today he was really agitated and upset. He kept pacing around and slamming cupboard doors and muttering and complaining about everything…until finally I just had to ask him if something was wrong.

  At this point, he stops pacing and just looks at me with this really odd expression. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”

  “Huh?” Okay, now I'm more confused. I mean, he's the one who was slamming doors and pacing and stuff. “What do you mean?”

  “Is something wrong with you, Kim?”

  “No. Well, nothing other than the regular stressful stuff of life, that is.”

  “What kind of stress?”

  His sudden interest in my life makes me curious. I'm not sure if he's trying to be a good dad or to make up for being so distant lately or what exactly. But I decide to play along. “As you know, I still struggle with missing Mom a lot. Like yesterday at the wedding. Well, at one point everything seemed so cool because it felt like she was right there with me, like I could almost feel her, you know? And then within minutes, I was crying because I knew she was gone and—”

  “So you're having mood swings?”

  I consider this. “Yeah, I guess so. I mean, it felt like she was with me and that was great, but then I realized she wouldn't be here for my wedding, to help me plan it and then—”

  “Are you planning on getting married anytime soon?”

  I frown at him. “No, Dad. But that's not the point. It's just that I would miss her being around to—”

  “I miss her too, Kim.” His tone is growing slightly impatient now. “But is there anything else that's bothering you?”

  “Well, I've been kind of stressed over Natalie lately. She's been so depressed the past couple of months, and I'm not sure how to help her.” I realize I can't go any further with that problem, so I change the subject. “And then there's Matthew.

  “What about Matthew?” Now Dad looks very interested, and I wonder if this isn't what's been getting at him all along.

  So I launch into the whole story of Matthews grandparents, the Ivy League school, how his mom is so furious at him for caving, how they've been arguing a lot, and how I'm not very happy with his choice either. And I'm not even finished explaining the whole thing when Dad cuts me off.

  “So you're upset because Matthew will be going away to school? Leaving you behind, so to speak?”

  “No, not exactly. Of course, I'll miss him and everything, but I guess I'm more upset that he's not following his dream. “

  “His dream?”

  “Art. He loves art and design, Dad, and he's very gifted too. I was hoping he'd go to a really good design school that would help him to—”

  “And that's all that's bugging you?”

  Now I'm feeling pretty exasperated. “Isn't that enough? How much stress do you think I need anyway?”

  “Well, I…”

  And then I remember something else. “Oh, yeah, there's another thing, but you might not want to hear about—”

  “No, Kim. Go ahead, I'm your Dad. I want to hear about everything.”

  “The truth is, I've been pretty worried about you too. I mean, you're not exactly yourself these days. I understand that it's hard for you, losing Mom, but I lost her too, you know. And you've been so closed up, and I know you're sad and hurting. But it's upsetting to know that there's nothing I can do about it, no way I can help you.” I hold up my hands in pure frustration. “There, is that enough stress for you?”

  He nods slowly. “That's a lot of stress, Kim. In fact, it's enough stress to make someone do something that's out of character. It might cause a person to make choices she might ve otherwise reconsidered.”

  “What are you saying, Dad?”

  “I'm just saying it's possible that all this stress has put you in a tough spot. And you may be dealing with something that's overwhelming to you, something you don't feel comfortable discus
sing with, well, me. And I realize that your mom's not here, and maybe you would've been more comfortable talking to her about some things. But Km, I'm all you have right now. Is there anything you'd like to tell me?”

  Okay, I'm looking at my dad like he's got three heads. I mean, what on earth is he trying to say? And why does he seem like such a complete stranger, not to mention a total doofus?

  “I have absolutely no idea what you're getting at, Dad,” I finally tell him. “But if you have something to say, could you just get it out into the open? You're really starting to freak me.”

  “The home pregnancy test,” he mutters.

  I feel myself jerking to attention now, as if I'm somehow guilty of something—other than being a good friend. Crud, why didn't I remember to throw it out in the trash can outside? I know how Dad goes around emptying wastebaskets on Saturdays. He obviously saw it and jumped to conclusions. Why are parents so obtuse?

  Oh, that.”

  “Yes, that.” He studies me closely, as if he really believes I'm the one who used it. And while I can understand this mistake, it really irks me too.

  “Well, it wasn't mine.”

  He looks unconvinced. “Really?”

  “Really, Dad! That's perfectly ridiculous. I cannot believe you would think that I am or that I would or that I could—” I stop blabbering and just shake my head in complete disgust.

  “Kim, it looked like the test had been used.

  “Of course, it had been used. That's what it was for. But I was not the one who used it.”

  I see…

  “Dad!”

  “Come on, honey. You can tell me what's going on. I'm your dad. I love you.”

  The problem is I can NOT tell him. Not yet anyway. I promised Natalie I wouldn't tell a soul.

  “So what was the result of the test?”

  Now I'm just plain mad. “It was positive, Dad. Are you happy now? Positive in meaning that a baby is due sometime around New Year's. Is that what you wanted to know?”

  But then I see his expression, and I know that I've totally crushed him. He looks like he's about to have a heart attack or stroke or maybe just break down in tears. Why am I so cruel?