Baby (Laundromat Chonicles Book 3) (2 page)

“What really happened to your face?” she asked as soon as we were out of earshot of my buddies.

“What do you mean?” I asked innocently.

“I mean, how’d you really get a busted lip? And while you’re at it, tell me how you got that bruise on your arm.” She was pushy and somewhat cocky. I liked it. Something about her was trustworthy and for the first time since I was a six year old little boy I told the truth.

“My dad. He sometimes drinks too much and starts thinking about my mom. Apparently I now remind him too much of her, so I guess he tried to beat her out of me.” I shrugged as though it was no big deal. It wasn’t to me. It was my life. My normalcy.

“Oh my gosh, that’s awful. You need to tell someone.” Her finger gently touched my swollen lip. Curiosity and disgust twisted her face.

“No. I can’t and neither can you. I’ve never told anyone my secret.”

“But he’s hurting you.”

“No, he’s the one that’s hurting. I’m fine. I can take it. I can’t leave my dad. He needs me. Promise me you won’t tell. Promise.” I bore into her, praying I didn’t just make the biggest mistake of my life. A few moments passed, but it seemed like an eternity.

“Okay, I promise but promise to try not to make him upset. Okay?” Her voice was sweet. Caring. Innocent. As though it would be that easy to just not anger him.

“Promise,” I softly replied. I never tried to upset Pop, ever. So it would be an easy promise to keep. I just can’t promise never to get hit again.

***

We decide to keep our impending parenthood a secret until we turn eighteen. Every day is a normal day. We still go to school and hang out with our friends. We go to parties like all kids our age but since neither one of us have ever drank alcohol, we don’t need an excuse for her not to drink. It’s an easy choice for me not to drink. If watching my dad puking his guts up after a binge or laying around all day with a hangover headache wasn’t enough to convince me that the stuff is rotten, then the violent shift his attitude gets when he’s really drunk is enough to convince me. My father doesn’t hit when he’s sober.

I asked Lena not long ago at a rather large and rowdy party why she wasn’t drinking. She’d never, that I’ve seen, so much as put alcohol to her lips. Watching all the girls her age get drunk and rib her for not drinking sparked my curiosity. I didn’t want her missing out on what was considered a rite of passage for teenagers because I couldn’t bring myself to participate.

“Babe, you can have a drink if you want. I’m here to watch you.” I gave her a sly wink, not wanting my girlfriend to miss out on something she wanted to do or try for my sake. She shook her head no then went back to sipping her iced tea, her favorite drink.

“Why?” I had to yell the question. Between the blaring music and people talking over one another, it was nearly impossible to hear yourself think, let alone talk. She grabbed my hand, pulling me behind her into the backyard where it was remarkably quieter. A few stragglers migrated out there including a girl vomiting in the bushes, but at least we could hear each other talk.

“You want to get me drunk?” The words flew out of her mouth, accusations heavy.

“What? No!” I defended quickly.

“Don’t lie to me, Hap! Why are you telling me to drink? You think I’ll get drunk and you can have sex with me?” Her eyes were lit with anger.

“You’re kidding right? I don’t have to get you drunk to have sex, Lena.” I reminded her, my own anger matching hers. How could she accuse me, of all people, of wanting to take advantage of her when she’s drunk. Not only am I not that kind of guy, I don’t have to get her drunk to sleep with her. We already do that without the aid of alcohol.

“Then why the hell are you asking me to drink?” Her arms cross over her chest protectively.

“I wasn’t asking you to drink. I was asking if you wanted a drink. Big difference.”

“How so?”

“Seriously?” Her eyebrow shot up at me, demanding my reply. She’s so damn cute when she’s pissed. Frustrated, I ran my hands through my hair and took a step back to gather my thoughts. To say girls are confusing is the understatement of the fucking world. On a sigh I began slowly, trying not to let irritation take over. “I asked you if you wanted to drink because I know all of your friends do. I wasn’t sure if it’s something you want to try but haven’t. Since I don’t drink, I didn’t want to think you’re not doing it because of me.” Her face softened slightly. Her soft hand covered mine.

“Hap, I don’t drink because I don’t want to drink. I’ve seen enough of my friends getting wasted to know I don’t want to act like that. But in all honesty, yes part of it is because of you. If I wasn’t with you, I might be like my friends and get drunk and hook up then do it all over again. I wouldn’t know any better. Because of you, I feel loved and comfortable and confident. I don’t need alcohol to have fun. I just need you.” She smiled at me, her face so genuine. I reached out to her, my thumb gently rubbing her cheek.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, now let’s go make fun of our drunk friends and make sure they get home safe.”

Today’s Lena’s eighteenth birthday and we’re out to lunch with her mother. The conversation is light, nothing of real importance is being said. It’s nice. No pressure. No questions about college. No questions about what I plan to do after high school. What Lena plans to do. Instead time is filled with conversation about movies and the latest celebrity gossip. Lena and her mom love celebrity gossip. They don’t even care if it’s true, they enjoy getting lost in other people’s realities.

The chatter falls quiet. Then with no warning to me. No pre-curser. No kick under the table. Nothing. The words just casually slip through her lips between bites of her cheeseburger. The words are spoken so carelessly I wonder if her mother even picks up on them. I look up from my plate over to Lena, who is nervously chewing her burger and then at her mother who sits frozen. Shock is the only emotion registered on her face. Her mouth hangs open and the scoop of salad she’d prepared to eat hangs loosely on the fork she’s holding in mid-air.

Clearing my throat, I attempt to bypass my girlfriend’s crazy outburst and ask, “So, you two excited about the finale of Sons of Anarchy?” Yes, not the smoothest thing to say but the only thing that comes to mind. They both look at me, anger flashing across their similar blue eyes but for different reasons. Lena tilts her head and gives me the kick under the table she should have given before her announcement.
Back me up,
she tries to convey with just a look. I drop my napkin and prepare to do just that. Before I can speak, her mother drops her fork and all hell breaks loose.

“Please say you are kidding, Lena! This is some kind of sick joke.” Were the first words out of her mouth followed by, “You didn’t get yourself knocked up by your high school phase loser boyfriend! Please God, Lena, tell me you’re not making the same mistake I made with your father.” The words are nearly visible as they sliced through my girl’s heart. There is no doubt in my mind that her mother loves her. I also didn’t expect her to take this news lightly. What I can’t believe is she used the one word she always assured Lena she wasn’t–mistake.

“So that’s all I am to you, Mother, a mistake? All I was to him?” The tears slowly begin to descend down Lena’s broken face. I want to reach across the table and wipe it away but I don’t. This is between a mother and daughter. One slight movement from me could turn this from bad to disastrous.

“YES! A beautiful mistake. A precious mistake. A mistake I wouldn’t take back for the world, but Lena, I was young. He was young. We didn’t know what the hell we were doing. I don’t regret you, but you weren’t planned either. I don’t want the same for you. I want more for you.” Her mother tries to recover seeing how badly she hurt Lena. It doesn’t matter. That word is still out there, floating between them.

“Newsflash, Mother, Hap loves me. This baby is not a mistake. I’m sorry you and Dad fucked without being in love. I’m sorry you were both self-absorbed assholes but that’s not me. That’s not Hap. We are not you and Dad.” Lena’s voice quivers, attempting not to scream at her mother, while trying not to cry. I do reach across the table, resting my hand on her arm. I don’t give a damn what her mother says.

“You really think he’s going to take care of you? Of a baby? The son of the town drunk? A boy who’s been beaten his whole life? At some point, he’s going to turn on you, Lena. I don’t want you to get hurt.” The conversation is heated and ongoing as though I’m invisible. My attempt to stay quiet and let them fight this out falls to the wayside when the comparison to my father flies out of her mouth.

“Look, I’m not my father any more than Lena is an uptight bitch like you. My father has his demons, and you don’t have the first clue as to what happens in my house. One thing I can tell you is I would never hurt Lena or our baby, and I will never consider what we’ve made a mistake.” I try to keep my voice low. I try to stay in control but who the fuck does this woman think she is? Saying one day I would turn into my father? My father isn’t a bad man. He’s a broken man. There’s a difference.

“Please, young man. You’re trash. I’ve allowed this little young love thing to go on long enough. I honestly thought you’d grow out of him by now but clearly I was wrong. I’ll make an appointment with the doctor tomorrow to take care of this problem.” She waves her hand in the air as though her words are final… they’re not.

“What do you mean take care of this problem?” The words pass through my gritted teeth.

“Do I need to spell it out? Abortion… she can’t have your baby.” The way she so easily suggested Lena will have an abortion causes my blood to boil. Before I can respond Lena hastily stands from the table. I glance up to see her cheeks flushed with anger. The tears are dry. Fury is the only thing left on my beautiful girlfriend’s face.

“Fuck you, Mother! I am not having an abortion. I am not giving this baby up for adoption.” Heads turn to see what the commotion is. I stand, resting my hand on Lena’s lower back for support.

“Yes, you are.” Her mother stands to match her daughter’s fury.

“I’m eighteen years old. I make my own decisions.”

“As long as you live in my house you live by my rules and there is no way in hell you are having a baby.” They both leaned across the table, the entire restaurant is now watching the show. I need to get Lena out of there before there’s any more of a scene.

“Come on, baby, let’s go. I think we’ve given the other people here enough of a show.”

“Get your filthy, white trash hands off my daughter,” her mother spits out just as Lena picks up a glass of water and throws it in her face.

“I’m sorry, Mother, but I love Hap. We are having this baby. Your role in this is up to you, but you will not speak of my baby’s father like that. Let’s go, Hap.” She turns and walks away leaving her mother wet and stunned. I throw a twenty on the table, not ever wanting to owe that woman anything, not even a meal, then quickly follow Lena.

The cool air hits me as hard as Lena does the moment I leave the warmth of the restaurant. She’s trembling in my arms. “Shhhh, calm down, baby. We’ll figure this out. Calm down. It’s not good for the baby for you to be so stressed out.”

“What are we going to do? I can’t stay at home.” Her trembling words break my own heart.

“Come stay with me. My dad won’t care. He loves you,” I suggest. My dad does love Lena. When she’s around, he seems more calm and at peace. She has a way of making people feel like that. It’s one of the many things I love about her.

“I don’t know, Hap. The drinking, I don’t think that’s a good environment for the baby either.”

“It’s just temporary. I’ll pick up more hours at work and save a few paychecks for us to get into a place of our own.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“It’s not easy, babe, but we’ll make it through. Come on. Let’s go get your things before your mother gets home. I don’t think it’s a good idea to have another confrontation.”

“No, it’s definitely not a good idea. Okay, let’s go.” She agrees before reluctantly pulling away from my arms. We climb into my piece of shit 1989 Honda Accord and take off in the direction of her house. Two hours later we have her stuff piled in my car and we’re pulling out of the driveway just as a cab pulls up, her mother spilling out.

“Where do you think you’re going?” she shouts, stumbling to my car.

“Oh God, she’s drunk,” Lena mutters.

“Get out of the car right now, young lady!” she screams, her hand banging on my window. “You give my daughter back to me, you little piece of shit!”

“Just go,” Lena whispers.

“You sure? She’s drunk and hurting.” The last thing I want is another blow up but I don’t feel right about leaving her like this. Maybe it’s from years of taking care of my father, but I have a hard time not feeling bad for people in the fragile state alcohol leaves them in.

“Ugh,” she sighs before grudgingly getting out of the car. Her mother instantly stops banging on my window, looking up at her baby girl. Her makeup which is usually flawless is smeared all over her grief ridden face. She looks as though she’s lost a piece of her heart, which essentially I guess she has. She’s lost it to me and the stranger growing inside of her daughter.

“Please, please don’t do this, Lena. After all I’ve done for you. All I gave up to give you a good life! How can you do this to me? How can you leave me for him?!?!” Slurs continue to fly out of her mouth while Lena leads her inside. Every few seconds she turns back to me shooting what might as well be lethal daggers. I can die right here in this driveway and she’ll probably be happy. At least she wouldn’t be losing her baby.