She thought of Ronnie destroying Ben’s portrait, and her lack of regard for all of the time and painstaking effort she had put into it. She wished things were different and her sister’s hatred of Ben and animosity toward her would blow over. That would eventually happen, wouldn’t it? After making toast in the kitchen, she brought her plate up to her room and opened the pad again. Engrossed in her work, yet with Ben not far from her thoughts, she wondered what he was up to this morning.
The front door closed downstairs. Steeling herself against another onslaught of her sister’s verbal mistreatment, she put away the pad and left her room.
Veronica was studying the calendar on the kitchen wall, turning up the pages of each month.
“Have you decided anything?” Samantha ventured.
“Not for sure. Did you tell him yet?”
“Not yet. Why?”
“Wondering, that’s all.” Veronica sighed. Her face was puffy, like she’d been crying.
“I’ll tell him as soon as you know what your plans are.”
“Momma here?”
“In bed. I think she worked last night.” Samantha picked up the dirty wine glass on the counter by the sink. Absently, she rinsed it under the tap until the last trace of red residue ran down the drain.
“I’ve got work in an hour. Feel like quitting, though. Ugh. Barfing up my friggin’ guts all morning.”
Samantha didn’t know what to say. Veronica probably didn’t want to hear any words of sympathy from her anyway. How could she make her sister not hate her so much? “Want me to make you something for lunch?”
“I don’t want anything from you, Sam. You’re a traitor. You’d probably put rat poison in it.”
“Look, I didn’t—”
Veronica held up her hand to shut her up. “What did you do, Sam? What lies did you feed him to make him break up with me?”
Samantha hung her head. “No lies. He’s got his own brain. It was his decision.” I did say he should stop leading you on, though. That wasn’t a lie. But Samantha couldn’t say that.
“You’ve ruined my life. All of you have. Momma’s turned into a hopeless drunk, Daddy is clear across the country delighting in his new ready-made family with the little son he’s always dreamed of, and I don’t even know if I get to graduate next year.”
“You’ve, uh, ruled out an abortion?” Samantha examined her fingernail, then chewed on it, trying to avoid Veronica’s gaze.
But Veronica stepped closer, bringing them face to face. Tears glinted in her eyes. “Oh, does that not jibe with your designs? You’d love for me to kill it, wouldn’t you? Just wash it away like a shameful, embarrassing stain, huh? Well, it isn’t as easy as rinsing out Momma’s dirty wine glass, sis. But hey, you wouldn’t want a living, breathing reminder of what your excuse for a boyfriend and I shared, now, would you?”
“No, Ronnie, I didn’t mean—”
“Shut up!” Veronica cut her off, her face so close to Samantha’s, she felt her expulsions of breath as she yelled. “I wish Momma had aborted you!”
Samantha backed away and watched in stony silence as her sister fled from the kitchen.
The vitriol of her words stung. Yes they were hateful, but Samantha understood them. She would likely be experiencing those exact emotions if she were in her sister’s shoes. She hated Veronica back at the beginning of July when she so easily and expertly diverted Ben’s attention away from her, she couldn’t deny that. And now, after Ronnie had dated him, fallen for him, and slept with him, nerdy little Samantha had stolen him back. And she wasn’t letting him go this time, despite the pregnancy, her mother’s forbiddance, and her sister’s hurt and anger. She was allowing this boy to come between her family and herself.
When she looked in the mirror these days, she didn’t recognize the strange interloper staring back at her. She was beginning to dislike looking this new and different Samantha in the eye. Was she, in actual fact, selfish and heartless? Was she the quintessential traitor Veronica painted her to be? She quailed at the thought of losing Ben. He was only eighteen, a boy really, with the pain of life’s problems and with plenty of flaws of his own, but she knew she was falling in love with him.
What stung the most about Veronica’s words wasn’t about her betrayal, or even her wish that Samantha had never been born. It was the truth about her sister’s accusation she was terrified to acknowledge; not to Veronica, not to anyone else, and not even to herself. The truth she was the most ashamed of.
Samantha would never confess to the ugly secret buried deep inside her anguished heart: an abortion was the solution she’d been hoping for.
***
Another day dawned and passed, and Veronica had yet to disclose a decision about the baby. To make matters worse, Darlene was a jittery mess, fluctuating between ingesting countless pots of coffee and getting on Veronica’s case; and drinking wine, which made her run the emotional gamut of laughter, impulsiveness, hysterics, and sarcasm. She stirred up disturbing memories for Samantha of her Poppy years ago, on any one of his numerous benders. Fuelled by alcohol, he had been given to mordacious, paranoid diatribes directed at anyone, family member or not, who dared occupy the same room as him. To witness the same vilification spouting from Darlene’s mouth against her own flesh and blood was nearly intolerable for Samantha to stomach.
Friday was upon them with the end of August fast approaching. The afternoon was summery warm, so the thought that schools would open their doors in less than two weeks had an unreal quality to it. Coming home from a jog, Samantha wondered for the hundredth time how Ronnie’s course of action would affect everyone.
Darlene had the weekend off and had only days to come up with a new job if she expected to escape a significant interruption in earnings. She’d returned from a second interview minutes ago, her face downcast. Subdued, she tossed three frozen turkey necks in a pot and chopped up vegetables for soup at the kitchen counter. While Veronica took a shower, Samantha placed a quick call to Ben, but there was no answer. She wondered if she would see him tonight.
She watched her mother dump the diced carrot, turnip, parsnip, and onion into the boiling pot, clean the cutting board, and wipe down the counter. Her heart dropped anew when Darlene bent to the cabinet and took out a fresh bottle of wine. Quickly, she uncorked it and poured herself a glass.
Veronica made an entrance, her face wan. Her hair combed back and wet from the shower, she sat down, cupped her chin in her hands, and let out a long, shaky sigh. She had their attention immediately.
Clutching her glass, Darlene seated herself across from her. Samantha leaned against the counter and braced herself, waiting for her sister to speak.
Veronica cleared her throat and folded her arms on the table in front of her. She fixed her gaze on their mother.
“I’ve made a decision.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“What is it, Ronnie?” Darlene asked. Eyes unblinking, her knuckles whitened as she gripped her glass.
Veronica exhaled a long, uneven breath. “I’m not getting an abortion.”
Darlene stared. “Do you mean, you are going to—?”
“I don’t know yet what it means. I only know I am definitely not going through with an abortion. So now I have more time to decide between adoption or if I…I will keep it.”
Samantha stared at her sister’s face. With the decision she’d made and shared with them, she looked transformed, more mature, and more confident than Samantha had ever seen her. The single year that separated their ages now yawned like decades between them.
Darlene took an extended drink from her glass. “And what about school? Aren’t you going to go in September?”
“I can’t see why not. Do you truly believe I care what people will think or say when I start to show? Most of them are strangers to me, so why should it bother me? I’m hardly the first teenage girl to ever get pregnant.”
Darlene frowned. “But most girls drop out if they are—”
“I am not
most girls, Momma.”
“I know, honey.”
“My due date is in April, so I’ll have most of the school year done when it…it happens.”
Samantha couldn’t help but imagine how the other students would react to her sister’s pregnancy when it became apparent. Would they put her down or make fun of her? Would everyone call her the bay tramp? And what about herself? She would probably be judged too, just because they happened to be related. Or was she worrying for nothing? Maybe kids today were used to being around this sort of situation.
“When do you think you’ll know what you’re going to do?” she asked.
“Whether or not to give it up? I don’t know, but I have more time now to think about it.”
“But a baby costs money,” Samantha said. “You’ll have to support yourself, and with no trade or university education, how are you going to—”
“Let me worry about that.”
“Momma can barely handle the two of us, let alone take on another mouth to feed.” Samantha looked quickly at Darlene. Her face reflected the same bewilderment Samantha felt. “I guess there’s always welfare to fall back on.”
Veronica pushed back her chair and stood up. “That is precisely what I expected from you, Sam. Thanks so much for your overwhelming support.”
“Samantha’s only stating realities, Ronnie. This impacts us all. How will we manage with a baby?”
“Look, I don’t know what I’m doing yet. Didn’t you hear me? Even if I want to keep it, but I can’t figure out a way to manage it, I’ll have to give it up. But it’s my decision to make, not yours. And it certainly isn’t Sam’s!”
“Do you recall what you said to me not long ago?” Samantha cut in again. “You asked me, what gives people the right to bring offspring into the world only to live in poverty? That was a good point you made that day, don’t you remember?”
“You pious bitch.”
“Please sit down and stop with the name-calling,” Darlene said. “We need to talk about this more.”
“Are you trying to change my mind, Momma? Don’t tell me you were hoping for an abortion too.” Veronica looked sidelong at Samantha with accusing eyes.
“No, I’m not saying that. Please sit.”
Rebelling for a moment, Ronnie sat back down. Darlene went to stir the soup simmering on the stove, adding rice and seasoning. Filling her glass again, she rejoined her daughters.
“You have to consider the baby’s father in this,” she pointed out. “If you choose to keep the child, he should be made to support it as well.”
Blood crept up Samantha’s neck and coloured her cheeks. Ben. The father. Her boyfriend. The talk she needed to have with him was now close at hand. The next time she saw him alone, she would be dropping a catastrophic bomb on him and his life. Her face burned hotter. She looked down, hoping her blushing went unnoticed.
Darlene was still talking. “…and your father will have to be told too, of course.”
Veronica looked uncertain. “You’re going to tell him for me, right?” she asked, her eyes pleading. “That’s the last thing I want to do.”
Darlene nodded. “I’ll call him over the weekend. Sammie, would you set the table for supper, please?”
By seven o’clock, Ben still hadn’t called. Samantha gave up looking at the clock, resigned to the probability he was busy doing something with his father, and she wouldn’t see him tonight. She could always see him tomorrow and tell him the news. With mounting apprehension, she ruminated on how he would react.
For Samantha, nervous energy demanded action. She washed the supper dishes and put them away. She swept the floor and emptied the trash. After her shower, she got out Darlene’s cookbooks and flipped through them until she found what she was hunting for: the recipe for Nana’s famous blueberry tea buns. She assembled the ingredients on the counter and preheated the oven.
Veronica crouched near the window, carefully applying bottle-green polish to her long fingernails. How she could care about the colour of her nails at a time like this, Samantha had no inkling. Through the window she could see her mother on the veranda, smoking a cigarette, deep in contemplation.
“Did you tell Gina what you decided?” she asked.
Veronica looked up, blowing on her nails. “Yes, but I swore her to absolute secrecy. I didn’t want Ben to get wind of it through the grapevine.”
“Good thinking. I’ll be sure to see him tomorrow.”
“Don’t give him any pressure. Contrary to what Momma said earlier, I don’t want him involved in any way.”
“Even if you keep the baby?”
“He doesn’t need to sweat it. Why get him all worked up if I end up not keeping it? The two of you can go on your merry way as if this had never happened.”
Samantha heard the overtones of hostility in Veronica’s words, but she said nothing. Then the phone rang.
It was Officer Randy. “Put your mother on, would you, darling?” Samantha made a face into the receiver, but did as she was told.
Placing the tea buns in the oven and setting the timer, she eavesdropped on the side of the phone conversation she was privy to. She gathered Randy was coming over in a couple of hours to watch a rented movie he’d picked up. Peachy.
With plans made for the evening, Darlene’s mood moderately improved. After bathing and changing into her best jeans and a sleeveless, green turtleneck, she joined her daughters for tea and a sampling of the warm tea buns.
“Delicious, Sammie, as always,” she cooed, smiling around a mouthful as she sipped her tea. “You have your grandmother’s magic touch. Where did you say the berries came from?”
“Kalen. He picked them in Torbay and gave me a pint.” The fragrant odour of coconut and wild blueberries made Samantha’s mouth water. She sunk her teeth into the warm, sweet softness. “Care for another one, Ronnie?”
Still chewing the first one, Veronica nodded and reached for a second. Samantha looked on with a wry grin as she cut the tea bun in half and slathered it with butter. For once her sister wasn’t turning up her nose at food.
I guess she figured I left out the rat poison this time.
Samantha caught a glimpse of her reflection in the bedroom mirror as she stripped off her clothes and put on a thin night shirt. Lines crimped her forehead. The clock said 9:30 p.m., but she couldn’t bear Randy and her mother with their displays of affection any longer, so she had escaped to the refuge of her room.
If they were going to watch a movie, she fumed, why didn’t they actually watch it, instead of swilling beer, making eyes at each other, and sneaking noisy kisses when they thought she and Ronnie weren’t looking? Samantha understood Darlene’s need to move on with her life and her natural desire for male companionship, but with that plug? The notion of Randy as a fixture around their home and in their lives made her blood boil. And the thought of her mother not believing what Kalen said about him rankled her to the point of feeling sick.
Biting at a hangnail on her thumb as she stretched out on her bed, Samantha tore the tiny strip of skin off till it bled. Officer Randy wasn’t the only thing she chewed over. She agonized over another scenario that had occurred to her since Veronica’s announcement. What if Ben did an about-face when he found out about the pregnancy? He could very well view things with a fresh perspective and decide to ‘do the right thing’ by Veronica, discarding his and Samantha’s relationship as a brief distraction. With a baby on the way, he might be spurred to rethink everything, become the sort of father the child deserved, and work to restore the relationship with its mother.
Reaching under her mattress, she pulled out the envelope of photos from their hiding place. Ben looked back at her from her original favourite. She laid her head back against her pillow and studied it. Slowly, she traced the line of his jaw with her finger and looked into his eyes. Something painful stabbed in her chest. Was she about to lose him when they’d only just begun?
Samantha swallowed around the bitter lump in her throat and wo
ndered why this possibility hadn’t occurred to her days ago. Deep down, she knew why. It was her subconscious protecting her, from what would be for her, the worst of all possible outcomes: getting unceremoniously dumped by Ben, having her heart shattered, and watching him return to Veronica.
While her sister and the only boy Sam had ever loved rekindled their romance and began their own little family together, Samantha would eternally be regarded as the silly mistake that had nearly wrecked it all.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Samantha sensed her mother’s gaze boring into her as she bent to lace up her sneakers.
“And where are you off to this afternoon?” she asked. “It’s raining streams out there…better wear your raincoat.” Darlene stood in the middle of the room, absentmindedly smoothing the soft pleats of her purple and pink floral sundress. Her hair that she dyed herself yesterday feathered around her small face in a fluffy blonde halo.
She looked feminine and lovely today, in a bittersweet sort of fashion, like a flower past its peak of full bloom and beginning to fade and show signs of wilt, but captivating in its mature beauty all the same. Samantha hadn’t let on that she’d heard the unmistakable sounds of Randy leaving during the wee hours of the morning.
Veronica breezed into the kitchen as Samantha was about to leave. “Meeting Ben, I imagine.”
“I thought I told you to stay away from him!”
“She’s telling him about the baby, so I don’t have to,” Veronica interjected, before Samantha had a chance to respond.
Darlene clucked her tongue. “Well, by the look of her red face, that isn’t the only reason she’s meeting him. So help me God, Sammie, you better not give us any more trouble. Do you hear me? Just tell him the news and come on home again.”
Calmer Girls Page 19
