A Pact For Life (16 page)

“See! That's what I'm talking about! The baby is nothing but an it to you. And I don't mean 'it' as in '
it
is all that matters'. With you, it's, 'I have to go to the store and pick
it
up'.”

“Where is all of this coming from? Just yesterday you were happy.” Diana said as she fought off gasps of panic. “Oh wait, I get it, you've felt this way since the beginning. You know Cale, one day I hope you grow the balls to tell people how you really feel.”

The possibility of a rational, calm, or simply on topic conversation was long gone. They had moved from friendly mediation to daytime talk show in only a matter of minutes. Thank God we already know who the father is.

And it was the father who responded, “Here you go, I'll tell you how I really feel. Unlike you, I can admit when I'm not good at something, and I know I'm going to be a horrible father. Normally, I wouldn't have such a problem with this, but you're gonna be a terrible mother. You're just too selfish to take care of someone else.”

Usually the term, 'much to their own chagrin' would be used here when describing their voices being loud enough to hear through the walls, but that involves a certain level of regret and embarrassment. Neither Diana nor Cale had any of those feelings at the moment. Fury, absolutely... chagrining, not so much.

“Well I'm sorry for being ambitious, Cale. No, actually, fuck that! I shouldn't have to apologize for being driven. I'm not sorry at all. There is not a single shimmer of an apology for you.”

“It's too bad all of that ambition never gave you any common sense. Do you honestly believe it is better for a child to grow up with two messed up parents rather than in a loving adoptive home?”

“I'm not the one who’s messed up, that's you. I'm strong enough to handle this.”

“If our baby needed legal representation, then yeah, you're strong enough. But that's it. You are only strong when it involves your job. You won't be able to handle this child on your own.”

“Wait, what are you saying!? Are you leaving me!?”

Starting at the top of his forehead, Cale ran his hand down his face. He hadn't come over to break up, only to talk some sense to her. The possibility of the night taking a turn in the break up direction never crossed his still Ativan infested mind.

“Answer me!”

“Yes,” Came out of Cale's mouth. He wasn't sure if it was the drugs talking or if that's how he really felt, but the word was said, and that's all that mattered.

Diana's heart sank, her tears rose, her knees wobbled, and her fists clenched.

“Cale, I love you.”

There, she said it, but more importantly, she really meant it. All it took was the threat of him walking out for her to realize it.

Diana felt the first tear run down her face and after that, there were too many to single out. Cale knew he couldn't go over and comfort her. It would've made things even more complicated. Instead, what followed was the most pathetic thing he ever did.

As the mother of his child cried every tear she ever had, he opened the door and walked out. Shutting the door behind him, the sound of Diana's crying could still be heard, but it wasn't the crying that made him feel lower than the lowest human. Rather, it was the five words that followed.

“You are breaking my heart.”

THE LIGHT AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL

The Diana Young Pregnancy Update 

Estimated weeks till delivery: 28

Shape of stomach: A bump with a moderate slant running up her torso. 

Food Craving: Nothing at all.

Mood: A cornucopia of negatives – sad, angry, lonely, hopeless, distraught, devastated.

The next morning, there was a small, polite knock at Diana's door that she didn't bother to get up from her couch to answer. There were tissues strewn all over the floor. Wet and frayed white balls that had been steadily thrown down since Cale walked out only twelve hours prior.

There was another series of small knocks, followed by, “Diana, are you in there? It's Jenny.”

Diana got up from the couch, leaving behind a perfect indention of her body in the fetal position. She opened the door and looked at Jenny the way a former devout looks at the church after being let down by God at a point where they needed Him most.

Jenny didn't offer any verbal comfort, but something much stronger – a tight, meaningful hug. At first Diana didn't know how to respond, as evidenced by her hands at her sides. This didn't last long as she grew comfortable by this closeness and reached up, grabbed Jenny's back and pulled her in even closer. Even though Diana was wearing a Colorado Law sweatshirt and pants, that hug was the first time she felt warm since Cale left.

After a few seconds in the silent hug, Diana broke away and asked, “What am I going to do, Jenny? I can't be a single mother.”

“What happened last night? You said Cale left for good?”

Giving her perspective of the events from the previous night, Diana said, “He came in here crazed and screaming how I'm going to be a horrible mother, and the...” Diana had a painful look as she grabbed her waist. “Dammit, these cramps have been nonstop the past few days.”

“Is there anything you can take?”

“Nothing I'm allowed to have helps.” Getting back to the reason Jenny was there, Diana said, “Do you know what bothers me the most about all of this? If he hadn't spoke first, I would've proposed to him.”

“Diana, can I ask you something?” Without waiting for a response, Jenny continued, “At your party when you made partner, do you remember how sad you were because you weren't married with kids?”

“I drank too much that night. Everything I said or did was a mistake.”

“I know you don't mean that. Marriage and kids have been on your mind for awhile. Have you ever wondered why you were so desperate for that life?”

“Don't ever say I was desperate.”

Jenny shot her a skeptical look.

Defeated, Diana said, “You're right, I wanted those things so badly, and I have no idea why. Everywhere I turn, there is this nonstop pressure to have a family. My mother tells me about every birth or wedding that occurs with every relative or anyone I grew up with. It's her way of trying get grandchildren. I see these women with kids when I go running and they look so happy. Or they're out with their husbands having fun. What makes them different from me? How can they go out and find someone so easily when it's so hard for me?”

Diana didn't wait for an answer as she continued, “Between the cramps, constantly having to use the bathroom, my face breaking out, and the morning sickness, this pregnancy just keeps getting worse. I'll be right back”

In the bathroom, Diana was washing her hands and examining herself in the mirror. She looked like the opposite of a hot mess. Usually, there is a shred of attraction when people are hot messes. Diana could've been labeled a lukewarm mess, or to put it more accurately, just a mess.

The Internal Dictation of Diana, Part II:

Look at me. What am I doing? I hate this. Ugh, there's still seven months left until my body is completely ruined. Goddammit! Stop crying! Stop crying now! I wish I could take all of this back. Cale and the pregnancy and that idiotic pact. I don't want to be pregnant anymore. Wait, that's it! I can take this back. I still have time to get an abortion. This is my life on the line. It will be all over if I keep it. I need to get an abortion.

Diana came back out of the bathroom purposeful and composed. She looked at Jenny who was in the kitchen brewing coffee and said nonchalantly, “I'm getting an abortion.”

It came out of nowhere leaving Jenny speechless. She didn't know what to tell Diana, or if she should tell her anything. Employing the Cale Dawkins technique of talking in hopes a solution comes to you mid-sentence, Jenny started with, “Diana...”

“Hold on, let me send this text to a certain asshole.”

Diana breathed deep, sent the message, and sat down on the couch that had lost her fetal position.

I figured you should know I'm getting an abortion.

Cale stared at the screen of his cell phone much longer than it would've taken any literate person to read one sentence. Thanks to a late night flight from Denver, he was back in Washington DC walking the streets he used to call home. He didn't know why he felt the urge to flee Denver, all he knew was he had to get out.

He slid the cell phone back into his pocket and continued down U Street, a place where he was royalty many years ago. It was his first time back to DC since moving to Denver six years prior, and the reunion left him feeling strange. This was a place he and his friends dominated in an 80's movie type of way, only it happened around the millennium.

His old neighborhood had changed as most of the restaurants and record stores he loved were gone - replaced by the strip mall Holy Trinity of Starbucks, Smoothies, and Cells. The DC art scene had become the DC family attraction as men, women, and children littered the sidewalks and parks. Bikes had been replaced with strollers, Chuck Taylors with booties, sidewalk canvas painting with sidewalk face painting. As the former king of U Street, Cale felt he let his people down. It was his own dumb fault he abandoned them, just like how he abandoned Diana and their child.

In one of the few delis left over from his past life, Cale stood in line behind a curly brown haired girl, no older than four, wearing a tutu and jeans. She turned around to face him with a look that demanded, 'I'm both the princess and queen.' He couldn't ignore her, so Cale took out his headphones, crouched down, and asked, “And how're you doing today, little lady?”

The little girl's bossy look disappeared and she turned red. Feeling around for her mother's leg, she grabbed on while still staring at Cale. Her mother turned around and said, “Emily, are you bothe...Cale!? Is that you?”

The biggest problem with being a memorable serial dater? Constant run-ins with exes who actually remember you. It was a fact made painfully clear to Cale with the appearance of the girl's mother.

“Cale!? It's me, Lindsay. What're you doing here? I thought you lived in Denver?”

Although her hair was its natural brown rather than jet black, her nose and lips rings gone, and a Burberry jacket replaced a white tank top, Cale knew from the moment she turned around that it was his former girlfriend, Lindsay.

Cale struggled for the words. “Oh... I'm... uh... here to visit my dad.”

“Really? I just saw him a few weeks ago at the store and he didn't mention you were coming home. It was weird seeing him in normal clothes and not a suit.”

“No kidding, I'm still not used to it either.” With his nerves starting to subside, Cale looked down at the little girl and asked her, “And who's this little lady?”

The little girl in the tutu turned red once more before running off to a table where a slightly older boy sat. “This...” Lindsay laughed and pointed to a table. “Well, that, is my daughter, Emily. And next to her is my son, Calvin.”

It was the sight of the boy, and particularly his olive oil skin that informed Cale who the boy's father was. Jonathon Hops, his former best friend, and someone whose been confused for every nationality between the tropics of Cancer and Capricorn.

“Wow, two kids, huh?”

“Yep, that's all of them. It was pretty tough at first with Calvin, but once Emily came along, we started to get the hang of it.” Lindsay carefully avoided getting into too much detail about her husband. It was a sore subject to mention around Cale. In fact, the day he left DC was the day they announced they started dating.

But too much time had passed, and old wounds have healed. Or to put it more accurately, old scars had been replaced by fresh wounds. Suddenly those old injuries didn't matter as much. Cale said slowly, yet sincerely, “Linds, how is Hops?”

Like her daughter, Lindsay turned red, and stuttered, “He's...he's good. He's working in sales for a defense contractor right outside the city. I'm guessing you heard we're married. We tried to find your address to send an invitation, but no one knew how to reach you.”