Turning Thirty-Twelve (24 page)

“You need to see a doctor to be sure,” I said. “Those tests are good, but they’re not perfect. How far along do you think you are?”

She sniffled some more. I grabbed a tissue from her nightstand and handed it to her before I realized how wet my own face was getting.

When had I started crying? I grabbed some tissue for myself and dabbed at my eyes.

“Not very. I’m only three weeks late.”

“Then we don’t have to decide anything yet.” Time. We had time. “Have you even thought about what you want to do about the baby?”

“No abortion. Absolutely not,” she said, flopping back on her stomach.

I breathed a huge sigh of relief. I didn’t believe in abortion, but it was Kathy’s choice, not mine. My heart would have broken if I knew that Nate’s child—my grandchild—wouldn’t be allowed to survive. But just because those were the beliefs I held didn’t mean they were necessarily Kat’s.

“I’m going to take a personal day tomorrow.” I rubbed her back again, trying to give her something to hold on to—something to help her not panic. “We’ll go see Dr. McNeff. When we know for sure, we can sit down and talk about what you want to do.”

Kat nodded into her pillow.

“It’ll be all right, Kat. I know it doesn’t seem like it right now, but it’ll be all right.”

She slowly rolled to her side and sat up. “I don’t see how. My life is over.”

I shook my head. “Your life is
not
over. My life wasn’t over when I got pregnant with Patrick when I was nineteen. It seemed that way at the time, especially since David and I weren’t married.”

She looked at me wide-eyed. “You–you got pregnant before you got married?”

I nodded. “I got married
because
I got pregnant.”

“Patrick’s dad didn’t hate you? He didn’t blame you?” She scrubbed her tears away with the back of her hand.

“If you’re worried that Nate will stop loving you, you need to quit. I know my son. He’s got a heart as big as all outdoors.” I reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “He won’t blame you. He’s too much like me. He’ll blame himself.”

Kathy threw her arms around me and hugged me so tight I wasn’t sure I’d be able to draw a breath. “Thank you, Jackie. Thank you. I didn’t know who to talk to. I was so...alone.”

“Well, you’re not alone now.” I hugged her back. “It’s okay, honey.”

She shook her head and pulled away. “No, it’s not. I was so mean to you. I just didn’t want Daddy to get married again. I didn’t want him replacing my mom.”

“I didn’t replace your mom, Kathy.”

“I know that now. I’m sorry for being so mean. Do you forgive me?”

“Of course.” I gave her a pat on the shoulder and stood up. “Pizza’s here. Do you want me to bring some back here or do you want to eat with the family?”

“I don’t want to see Nate.”

“Fine. I’ll bring you some pizza and a soda.”

“Thanks, Jackie.

“You’re welcome, honey.” I closed the door softly as I left her room.

“What is it? PMS?” Mark asked when I returned to the kitchen.

He and Nate had done a good job on the Domino’s, and I grabbed a plate to get a slice or two for Kat before the men devoured the whole thing.

I’d lost my appetite.

“Why do all you stupid men think PMS causes everything?” I snapped.

Mark cocked his head and stared at me. “Where did that come from?”

It came from the fact that your daughter is pregnant and my son is the father—and I can’t even talk to you about it!

“Sorry. I’m just a bit frazzled.”

“Maybe she’s got PMS too,” my youngest said with a small chuckle.

I tossed a nasty scowl his way, and he dropped his gaze to stare down at his plate.

“If I hear one more word about PMS, so help me someone’s going to pay.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“Do you want to go get some lunch?” I asked Kathy as we walked out the front entrance of the doctor’s office.

“I want to die.” She stared down at the sidewalk and then the asphalt of the parking lot. I didn’t figure she was admiring the view.

“Stop it. We’re going to get through this, Kat.” I clicked the alarm off and opened the door to the big red monster, thinking I should stop setting the alarm and maybe someone would do me a favor and steal the stupid minivan. “I really think you need to tell Nate now. Your father, too.”

She slid into the passenger seat and buckled her seatbelt. “I know. I’m just not ready. Not yet.”

I could see the tears in her eyes again, and I understood. I’d cried a lake’s worth of tears when I had found out I was pregnant with Patrick. I’d been terrified of telling my mother and embarrassed to tell my father. When I finally worked up enough guts to clue David in, his response had done little to spare my feelings. He blamed me and ranted about how I’d ruined his life. After he finally pulled himself together, he told me he would marry me in a way that made me feel as if he was doing me an enormous favor.

I hoped when Kathy finally told Nate that he would handle things with much softer kid gloves.

“He’ll hate me.” She stared out her window.

“No, he won’t. He was there too, you know. I hate to ask, but didn’t you two use any birth control?” I started the van and eased out of the parking space.

She nodded but kept gazing out her window.

“So what happened?”

“It broke.”

“Ah. I can’t even guess how many kids are toddling around out there because of a broken condom,” I said, hoping to lighten the mood before realizing how lame I sounded. “Nate should know you’re pregnant. He should be a part of making this decision.”

“What decision? I won’t have an abortion. I won’t give the baby up for adoption. Looks like I don’t have much of a choice, do I? There isn’t any
decision
to make.” She brushed away a tear. “I’ll have to quit school.”

“No, you won’t. In fact, that’s the
worst
thing you could possibly do.”

David and my parents had practically demanded I drop out of college and be a full-time mom, telling me there would be time to go back to school later. The reason I was a teacher was because of my stubborn refusal to stop living my life just because I was having a child sooner than I’d planned. It had taken years of night school, but I’d made it. Kat deserved no less of a chance.

“You need to stay in college,” I insisted. “There are day-care centers, and Nate won’t leave you high and dry.”

“He’ll want to get married.”

“I imagine he will.”

“I don’t want to marry him—at least not because of the baby.”

I empathized. Pulling into the driveway, I noticed Nate’s car was gone and hoped he’d gone back to the university.

“Coast is clear,” I said as I shut off the van. I turned to face Kat. “It’s up to you now. I promised I wouldn’t tell Nate or your dad, but you’ll have to. Soon. They love you, honey. You need to tell them.”

She nodded and sniffed back some threatening tears. “This weekend. I’ll tell Nate this weekend. Then—when we decide what we’re going to do—I’ll tell Daddy.”

***

I slid between the flannel sheets and waited for Mark to come home from whatever crime scene he was attending. Even with the cozy linens, the bed was always too cold when he wasn’t in it with me.

Guilt weighed so heavily on me that I was on the verge of tears. I tried in vain to remind myself that I had nothing to feel guilty about. I was helping Kat during a difficult time—a time when she needed a strong woman to see her through. If only I actually believed that was all there was to this whole situation.

I sure wasn’t going to be sleeping much—probably not tonight or for the next several nights. I figured there would be no sleep for me until Kat made up her mind to talk to Nate and to Mark.

I wasn’t feeling guilty because of the promise I’d made her, and I didn’t necessarily wish I could take it back. What was killing me was the lie of omission, the fact I was duplicitous with my beloved husband. Mark valued honesty above all else, and here I was keeping a very important piece of information from him
.

I tried to reassure myself
. You’re not lying. She’ll tell them. Soon.

The affirmation didn’t help much.

As I lay there, I worried about Kat and the road she would now have to travel. At least it wasn’t the 1950s where everyone would condemn her. The social stigma of unwed pregnancy had all but disappeared. Hell, because we had so many student mothers at my high school, the administrators were seriously discussing adding day-care so the girls wouldn’t have to quit school. And last week, a colleague at the middle school told me one of her sixth graders was pregnant.

A sixth grader!
What was happening to our kids?

I traveled down memory lane, trying to make it less bittersweet, but failing miserably. Patrick had been born when I was barely twenty. At least I had been out of high school. But I had gotten damn sick and tired of the behind-the-hand comments from the girls I knew, and some people were rude right to my face. With the self-esteem issues I’ve always had, it had been easy to believe that everyone condemned me. All of my friends had been sexually active, and the only difference between them and me was that I got caught. There but for the Grace of God...

Still, the embarrassment had been smothering.

When I’d married David, I restored a little bit of pride. And I’d been a damn good mother. Of that, I had no doubt. Patrick and Nathaniel had grown up to be smart, caring, and independent. If a parent’s job was to eventually make herself unnecessary, I’d been a resounding success. My boys were men now. Autonomous. But it hadn’t been easy.

Getting pregnant so young had stolen my youth as David and I struggled to pay for both of our colleges and the expense of two growing sons. I went from nineteen to forty overnight. It was no wonder David had eventually gone after a younger woman. Perhaps he was trying to recapture his own lost youth. A mid-life crisis had marked the perfect time for him to at least
try
.

I suddenly had a whole new insight into my ex-husband that took away some of the lingering sting to my pride that came from him leaving me for Ashley. I actually laid that ghost to rest with a sense of understanding and closure.

Now—at forty-two—I’d finally come into my own. I was damn good at my job. I had a great relationship with both of my sons. I was in a fantastic marriage that was based on affection and mutual respect. I’d learned the secrets of my own body, and I enjoyed my sex life more than I’d ever dreamed possible.

For the first time in my life, I loved myself.

The weight of guilt crashed down on me, so suddenly I gasped. I feared Kathy’s pregnancy, and my promise to protect her secret could cost me everything.

Looking over at the clock, I knew it was going to be one of “those” nights—one of those interminable nights of watching minutes click by and calculating just how much sleep I would get if I immediately fell asleep.

I can still get six hours if I just fall asleep...
now
.  I can still get five and a half hours if I just fall asleep...
now
.

When the alarm buzzed, I stared at the digital clock with blurry eyes and swore I had just drifted off. With a quick estimate, I guessed I might have managed about four hours of restless sleep. Mark’s side of the bed was undisturbed, and I worried about him. Grabbing my cell phone from the nightstand, I opened it, searching for the usual text message he sent when he pulled an all-nighter. It was waiting patiently for me.

Out being a cop. Love you.

I hauled my exhausted body out of bed and forced myself to face the school day.

***

“I’ll tell him tomorrow, Jackie. I promise,” Kat’s voice buzzed in my ear. I’d called her right after school on Friday. “I know it’s hard that you can’t tell Daddy, but...” I waited for her to finish the thought. She never did.

“Then you’re staying in Bloomington for the weekend?”

“At least for Saturday. Nate’s taking me out to eat and to a concert, and I’ll tell him after.”

I was being impatient—but with each passing hour, I increasingly feared Mark’s reaction. The longer it took to tell him, the more intense his ultimate anger would be. “You two can come home on Sunday, and we can all sit down and talk about this.”

“I don’t know, Jackie...”

“Kat, you
have
to tell your father. I know you’re embarrassed, and I know you’re afraid he’ll be mad at you. But you can’t keep him in the dark. I’ll cook us something nice for lunch, and we can all talk.”

“That’s not a good idea. You cooking, I mean.”

I wished I could scowl at her. “We’ll get take out.”

“Fine. We’ll see you Sunday,” Kat said. “I’ve got to run. I’ve got a class in ten minutes.”

“See you Sunday.”

***

Mark eased himself from my body, rolled to his side, and tugged me into his arms. “Now can you tell me what’s bothering you? You’ve got to be more relaxed. Was that two orgasms, or did I squeeze out a third?”

“Just two. Quit being greedy.” I snuggled up against him and closing my eyes. “It’s not attractive.”

“I could’ve sworn I heard—”

I swatted his chest. “Fine. Two and a half.”

“Three.”

“All right, all right. It was three. Geesh, you’ve got an ego.”

“Told you so.”

I snuggled a little closer, needing to feel secure in his arms. Long, slow minutes passed.

“Jackie?”

“Hmm?”

“Everything okay?”

I nodded. I could tell he was waiting for me to say something, to say...
anything
. My silence must have seemed deafening to him.

Right after we made love was always the time when we talked, sometimes for hours. I didn’t have anything to say because my brain was filled with Kathy and Nate and their baby—the three people I couldn’t talk about.

My grandchild
. Kat was carrying my grandchild.

I felt ancient. I felt excited. I felt anxious. I needed to talk to Mark, to share this news with him, to plan the future.