The Only Answer

by Magan Vernon

  I groaned, shaking my head. I knew there was no way I was going to get through to her. She was very hard headed and when she was set in her ways on something it was hard to convince her otherwise. Usually she was the one who convinced me to make exceptions, not the other way around. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Mon. I’m doing the best I can to make it so this isn’t uncomfortable for all of us, but it’s a crazy situation and we’re all just trying to make the best of it.”

  “Are you calling my pregnancy and our wedding an uncomfortable and crazy thing?” she screeched.

  I cringed. I knew she would somehow get that twisted. I should have chosen my words better. I tried to think carefully before I spoke again. “No, no. Not at all. I’m just,” I sighed. “Look, I’m just as frustrated as you are and I don’t know what to do either. I’ve never been a father or a husband or on a political campaign. When you combine all of those things it’s like one big cluster.”

  She blew out another deep breath. “Yeah it really is. I’m sorry. I’m just hormonal and crazy and gah!” She put her head in her hands. “Do we really have to go and see my parents and tell them? Can’t we just call them when I’m in the delivery room? Or send a birth announcement?”

  I laughed slightly. “Believe me, I wish we could. Your dad kind of scares me.”

  She pulled her head out of her hands and blinked, widening her eyes at me. “My dad scares you? You’re dad is the freaking governor and running for President. Not to mention that he’s the abstinence only education guy and now his youngest son has a pregnant girlfriend. I thought he was going to hide me in a dungeon somewhere until the campaign was over.”

  I shook my head and turned on my turn signal, getting off on the exit for Princeville where her parents lived. “You worry too much about things with Dad. Granted, I was just as scared as you were to tell them what is going on, but I genuinely think he wants what’s best for us. So do your parents.”

  I may have said the words out loud but the closer we got to Monica’s parents’ house the more I thought about the large gun rack in her dad’s basement and how I really wasn’t sure what the outcome of our conversation with her parents was going to be.

  ***

  While my parents lived in an upper crest suburb with a house that had a gated entrance, pillars, and a yard that looked like a golf course; Monica’s parents’ house was more cookie-cutter. More all-American, even if Dad prided himself on being the all-American guy.

  Just about every house looked the same in the neighborhood. It looked like something a developer put up about twenty years ago and decided that every house either needed to be white or beige paneled ranch homes or a two-story with the same colors. Every house had a tiny yard, sidewalks and every neighbor probably knew each other. It almost reminded me of the movie Pleasantville with all of the kids outside riding their bikes and parents sitting on the front porch watching them adoringly.

  I briefly wondered if this was the kind of life that Monica wanted. Would she want to move out to the suburbs now and have a house with a white picket fence and front porch? I quickly shook those thoughts out of my mind. Monica wasn’t the type of girl to just settle. She hadn’t even found a job she loved yet and I wasn’t about to make her put her dreams aside just because she was going to be a mother. She was still going to find her dream job and work in the city like she’d wanted. We just might have to look into daycare and places with pumping facilities along the way.

  Her brother Jordan’s old Jeep was parked in the driveway and I pulled alongside it. He was only two years younger than us but the kid seemed to hate me even more than her dad. I tried to talk to him on numerous occasions even tried to relate to him on things like football and all he did was give me one-word answers so I stopped trying.

  “I didn’t know your brother was going to be here,” I said once I opened the door for Monica.

  She swallowed hard. “I didn’t either. I guess he’s home for the weekend.”

  Great. Just what we needed. Another person to witness my murder.

  I slid my arm around her waist and we walked up the cement path to the little front porch. The doorbell was broken and her dad had said he was going to fix it for as long as I’d known Monica but never did, so instead Monica pounded a fist on the door.

  “Coming! Coming!” her mom yelled from inside.

  The door flew open and there stood Monica’s mom. Add about thirty years and a few pounds on Monica, then cut her hair and that was her mother. She was wearing a long sweater with some leggings and had recently decided to try contacts so she was always blinking like a bird in flight.

  “Monica! Trey! You’re here!” She threw her arms around Monica and then me. I swore the woman always gave me extra long hugs. Like longer than my own mother. I was okay with it. She always smelled like fresh baked cookies and it was like coming home when she hugged me.

  “I have an apple pie with your name on it, Mr. Campaign Manager,” she cooed once she let go of me.

  “That sounds great, Mrs. Remy.” I smiled. She tried to get me to call her by her first name but I just couldn’t do it. Maybe once she really was my mother-in-law I could muster up the courage to, but it just seemed weird. I’d always called people by their proper names. It was just how I was raised.

  We followed her mom from the front foyer to a small kitchen that opened to their living room where Monica’s dad and brother were camped out on the couch, watching football. The TV over the stone fireplace was the biggest thing in the room.

  “Boys, Trey and Monica are here!” Mrs. Remy called, standing on the linoleum floor in the eating area of the kitchen. The table was already set with the white china that Monica’s mom always put out whenever I came over, like I was some special guest. I knew it was their special dishes because Monica tried to pull one out from the cabinet once and her mother freaked out.

  Jordan didn’t even move from his spot on the couch. All I saw was the back of his shaved head. He was tall and lanky. The type of guy who I definitely didn’t expect to see on the football field but that was just about all he cared about.

  Monica’s dad turned slowly. He didn’t even bother to get up from the couch, just offered a small smile. “Hey Mon, Hey Trey.” He waved and then turned back to the game.

  “Sorry, I guess it’s some big game or something very important so they can’t take the time to acknowledge you two,” Mrs. Remy muttered, obviously not amused.

  “It’s fine, Ma. Wouldn’t expect anything else. Especially not when Illinois is getting their ass kicked as usual,” Monica said with a smirk.

  That got her brother’s attention. Jordan turned and locked his big brown eyes on her. “You better watch your mouth.”

  “Or what, skinny? You going to try and take me?” She motioned her fingers like she was saying “come and get me”.

  Jordan jumped over the couch and in a few long strides he was in front of Monica, picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder. She squealed and laughed as he spun her around. I held my breath the entire time until she was back on the ground. Something like that couldn’t be good for a baby.

  I put my hand on her lower back as she pushed her hair behind her ear. “You all right?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

  “Aw, that’s sweet he’s worried I’m going to hurt you,” Jordan mocked, pinching her arm.

  The kid had a way of getting under my skin. I don’t remember being that immature at nineteen or that immature ever really. But we were two different people and I had to remember that.

  “Monica, why don’t you help me get the food ready? I just need some carrots cut up for the salad,” Mrs. Remy intervened.

  “Sound good, I’ll help.” I smiled. Anything to break up the tension, and I was going to need something because I had a feeling it was going to be a long afternoon.

  ***

  There was something about Mrs. Remy’s home cooked meals that I loved. It was probably the fact that it actually was home-cooked b
y a mom and not by a cook.

  I tried not to wolf down the oven baked fried chicken and mashed potatoes, but Monica spent most of her time moving the food around her plate with her fork. I don’t think she’d actually put her fork to her mouth once during the entire sitting.

  She answered questions with one-word answers and it wasn’t until Mrs. Remy brought up the wedding that she finally looked up from her plate.

  “So, anything new going on with wedding plans or are you still planning on waiting until after inauguration?” Mrs. Remy asked.

  “Actually...” Monica hesitated and swallowed hard. “We did talk about that. We were thinking of moving the wedding up before all the chaos of Kirk’s possible presidency. You know, just something small up at the family lake house. Just our families and maybe a few close friends.”

  Mrs. Remy raised her eyebrows high on her head. “Well that doesn’t sound like a great idea. The beach house? You know your grandma wouldn’t be able to walk in the sand. And it’s September, the inauguration would be in January. Would you want us all to walk on the beach in the winter?”

  She shrugged. “It was just an idea. We were trying to keep it small. No big fuss or anything. We could also just do something at the court house and then have a big reception next summer.”

  Mrs. Remy dropped her fork on her plate. “What? And not have your aunts and grandma there with you? You know our family is looking forward to this wedding just as much as you two are. A wedding is not just about two people coming together. It’s about two families. The ones who have loved and supported you for the past three years in your relationship.” She crossed her arms over her chest. Like she had somehow won the argument.

  Monica opened her mouth to speak again, but I just couldn’t take it. I knew that Monica and her mom were enough alike that no matter what the other person said they weren’t going to convince each other of their side and just end up mad at each other. I didn’t mean for what I wanted to say to come out, but I just blurted it.

  “Monica’s pregnant. That’s why we’re moving up the wedding.”

  Silence fell over the table and all eyes went from me to Monica’s stomach. I thought Mr. Remy would be the first to say some smart ass comment or even Jordan, but it was Mrs. Remy who delivered the first blow.

  “Are you going to take care of this?” Her eyes narrowed. “I’m sure that the governor doesn’t approve.”

  I couldn’t believe what she was saying. By her tone I knew that “take care of it” didn’t mean raising the child. “You mean an abortion? Are you insane?” I asked.

  “Trey!” Monica gasped.

  Mrs. Remy whipped her head in my direction. Usually the woman loved me but when she found out that I was the guy who impregnated her daughter it probably turned to hate real quick. “This is Monica’s choice. You know that. How is she supposed to have a career with a new baby? You’re both barely out of college and not even married yet!”

  “I never said that I didn’t want Monica to have any of those things and she still can with a child. I’ve supported her in everything she does and I always will.”

  “Easy for the guy to say who’s driving a new Land Rover that daddy bought him,” Jordan muttered.

  Monica sighed, shaking her head. “This is ridiculous. I knew we shouldn’t have come here. I should have just sent you guys a birth announcement or something.”

  Mr. Remy was next to interject. “Don’t be stupid, Mon. We’re all just a little shocked. We didn’t think this was something that would happen. You know, especially with the whole abstinence thing the governor has going for him.”

  Fresh tears streaked her cheeks. “We didn’t plan on this to happen either. I’m sorry.”

  I took her hand and squeezed it. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. This was both of our decisions. You know I’m in this with you forever. I’ve meant everything that I’ve ever said to you and you know I’m going to help you take care of the baby. Whatever that means I’ll do it.”

  Mrs. Remy shook her head. “This is ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. I can’t believe you’re both going through with this. You both have so much going for you and you’re going to ruin it.”

  I was baffled by her words. She’d always been so supportive of our relationship but as soon as pregnancy came in it all went out the window. An abortion was never even a thought of mine. I would never do that. Ever. There was only one choice in the matter and it was one that Monica and I made together.

  Monica stood up, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “Well then I guess if we’re so ridiculous you don’t want to see your grandchild or come to the wedding. We’ll send an announcement here whenever the baby is born. Maybe then you’ll come to your senses.”

  “Monica...” Her father raised an eyebrow, speaking as if he was reprimanding a child.

  “Come on, Trey, let’s go home.”

  I nodded and did as she wanted. I wasn’t going to protest.

  “Monica, wait!” Her mother yelled as we were half way to the door.

  “Keep going,” Monica whispered. “I don’t want to hear what she has to say. I just want to be with you and only you right now.”

  I nodded and opened the door, not looking back to see what her mother wanted and the thoughts of her standing there in her apron, wondering what she would have tried to say to bring us back, haunted my nightmares the rest of the week.

  Chapter 8

  Monica

  After telling my parents about my pregnancy I just wanted to curl up in a ball and hide forever. It was kind of what I did the entire ride home. Trey had to basically carry me to our bedroom where I alternated between crying and sleeping the rest of the night.

  I was a ghost the rest of the week at work. I just went through the motions and did whatever I had to so I wouldn’t puke during work hours. Mom and Dad didn’t even try to call me. They didn’t apologize or anything. We were trying to keep my pregnancy out of the media and even though the Chapmans were worried about my family telling someone, I wasn’t. They were too embarrassed for that. Their little girl, knocked up before she was married.

  Now with a week gone by I had a full day of work on Saturday and Melanie’s bachelorette party that night. I wished I could have cancelled but she was my best friend and she was marrying one of Trey’s best friends. I also pretty much planned the whole thing since her sister Valerie was pregnant and now I was too.

  I was still kind of weirded out by the fact that the two of them were getting married in two weeks. I always found her fiancé John Boy to be brash and the typical college frat boy with his tattoos and devil-may-care attitude. But somehow they worked together. He brought out the parts of her that wouldn’t let go and have fun and he seemed to calm down when he was around.

  Truth be told I was totally jealous when they got engaged. He was a senior and Melanie and I were still juniors. They had only been dating a year when he popped the question. I was moody toward Trey for a whole week after that. I think he knew why deep down but I never exactly told him. Now we were both engaged and happy but she didn’t have to worry about a bun in the oven.

  “You know, I can always call Melanie and tell her you got food poisoning from some bad Chinese food at lunch,” Trey offered, sitting on the bed as he slid on his shoes.

  I stared at my reflection in the full length mirror that hung in the back of our walk-in closet. I was only eight weeks along but my jeans were already starting to get tight, even though I hadn’t gained a pound. I ended up settling on some leggings and a V-neck sweater dress. It wasn’t exactly the sexiest thing to wear to a bachelorette party, but it was also getting colder outside and this was the only thing that would hide my little baby bump.

  “No. I have to go. I planned the whole thing, remember? Melanie didn’t think that her pregnant sister would want to plan it and she was afraid she’d book Wild Wes as the entertainment.”

  Trey shook his head, standing up. “I still find that whole thing odd. Who just wakes up married to a mal
e stripper in Vegas?”

  “Well, obviously Valerie did and it seems to be working out for them. She has a good job, he’s a personal trainer and performs at country bars, and they’re on their way to baby number two, planning for number three.”

  He shrugged. “I guess they have it figured out.” Slowly he slid his arms around my waist and put his chin on my shoulder, staring at me in the mirror. “And we will too.”

  I sucked in a deep breath. “Yeah. Just one day at a time.”

  ***

  I wasn’t the biggest fan of bachelorette parties or really parties in general. I would have rather done something low-key and just hung out at someone’s house or maybe had dinner, but Valerie was having none of that when I started planning.

  We were starting the night out with dinner at Lou Manati’s and then it was on to the bars. At least no one would wonder why I wasn’t drinking since I didn’t do that anyway.

  As soon as I walked into Lou Manati’s, I knew exactly where my table was. Melanie sat at the head of it with a pink sparkly veil and a blinking tiara with penises on it. To accompany her sweater dress she also had on a bright pink sash with purple hard candies on it. Scrolled across the sash were the words “Suck for a buck.” I was pretty sure that my reserved friend didn’t pick that out.

  “Monica, over here!” Melanie yelled, holding up a half empty wine glass. The girl wasn’t a big drinker either and I was pretty sure that she was probably already at least a bit tipsy.

  I nodded and ducked my head hoping everyone in the restaurant wasn’t staring at me. I used to like to be the center of attention, but that was back when I was young and stupid and liked dancing on tables at fraternity houses. That was before my life changed completely. I guess everything happens for a reason, though. If I wasn’t raped I would have never transferred schools and never met Trey.

  Never would have ended up pregnant either.

  It was a blessing and a curse and some days I didn’t know which one it was more of.