When September Ends (18 page)

I turn around and glare at him. “I’m not a child, Jesse. I have some say in where I’m going and with whom,” I snap angrily.

“Not when you’ve got my baby in your belly,” he growls, and the fierceness in his eyes and voice clearly leave no room for argument.

I go to the closet and start grabbing clothes out of it. “It’s not like I’m going to stay here anyway with her being back again,” I reply, letting him know that I do have some say in it. “What a fucked up Christmas.”

“Amen,” he replies, as he leaves the room and me alone to do my packing and sulk.

Yes, you heard me: I am sulking. It’s my prerogative, okay? My hormones are doing crazy things and I’ve had about all the stress I can handle without going off on someone over the past several weeks, so I’m indulging myself with a well-deserved sulk.

Thirty minutes later Jesse is back upstairs, grabbing the stuff I’ve packed and taking it down to my car. He puts some of the stuff in his truck, and he remains calmly quiet.

I grab my backpack and head out of my room just as Mama is coming down the hall towards her room.

“Well, I see you’ve gotten exactly what you set out to get, haven’t you?”

This is new.

“Excuse me?”

“Your neighbor, Casey, filled in the blanks for me,” she replies quietly. “You know, I almost wish Mama and Daddy hadn’t found me. Maybe living in ignorance would’ve been bliss compared to this. All these sinners that surround me at every turn, it’s so disheartening.”

And, for whatever reason, I’m determined that she’s not going to get away with hosting a pity party for herself.

I drop my backpack, and cross my arms, staring her down. “You,” I say very succinctly, “don’t get to play victim here, Mama. And most of all, save your sanctimonious bullshit for someone that doesn’t know you like we all do.”

“Why—?”

“No, you are the one that made things the way they are right now. You get credit for that all by yourself. You left Jesse, you left Scout and you left me. You don’t get to waltz back into our lives and expect forgiveness for all that you’ve brought upon yourself and that continues to spill over into our lives and make us miserable.”

“I—I can’t believe you’re talking to your own Mama that way! You sleep with my husband and bring shame upon this family. Have you no decency, September?”

“Decency? Decency?” I ask incredulously, “What would
you
know of decency, Mama? When was the last time you showed any decency?”

She’s glaring at me hatefully now, and then her eyes narrow. “The Bible says ‘to err is human, and to forgive is divine.”

I pick up my backpack and look at her, and I almost feel pity for the person standing there. Almost, but not quite.

“That’s not from the Bible. It’s from a poem by Alexander Pope. And I don’t forgive you, Mama. Maybe God will, but I won’t.”

With that, I brush past her and head downstairs to say goodbye to my grandparents and head back to Ft. Smith, not sure if it’s the right thing to do or not.

December 27th

Apparently Jesse is still furious with me. For all of his dragging my ass back to Ft. Smith, I’m starting to wonder why he bothered at all. He’s barely speaking to me and when we arrived back here, he promptly unloaded my belongings and put them back in my old room.

Christmas was fairly anticlimactic. The fact that Mama had put the decorations up makes me want to tear everything down and trash them. Start fresh with new decorations next year. Will I even be here next year?

Scout is still pretty quiet. I guess she’s trying to adjust to the realization that her mother is well…a terrible person. I’m listening to some Maroon 5 and putting clean clothes away when Jesse taps on my bedroom door. “September, got a minute?”

“Come in.”

He opens the door and enters, closing it softly behind him. “I want to talk to you.”

“Oh, finally,” I say with some immature snippiness in my tone, followed by an eye roll. The fact that I’m aware of that makes it even more immature. What the fuck is my problem?

“What the fuck is
your
problem?”

Good question.

I take a breath and then exhale. “I—I don’t know. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to feel about any of this to be honest.”

“I see,” he replies quietly. “Well for the moment, why don’t you sit down and listen to what I have to say because, whether you know this or not, this is the first time I’ve felt calm enough to discuss this with you.”

My mouth opens, but when I see his expression, I quickly shut it and take a seat on the bed, giving him my full attention.

“September, I’m not sure how we got where we are right now and, trust me, I’ve been playing it over and over in my mind for days now. But maybe it doesn’t matter because, however it happened, we’re here right now and we need to discuss the path forward. But, before we do, I have to ask one question.”

I swallow and nod.

“Why in the hell didn’t you at least have the common decency of informing me that you were pregnant? I mean, come on.”

There’s that word. Decency. And the fact that it’s the same word my mother used, rankles my ass big time. The decent thing to do is be honest.

“I don’t know, Jesse. That’s the truth. I guess I freaked out. I mean, I was still taking my birth control pills, I just missed a couple here and there, and I didn’t expect this would happen.”

He watches me for a moment, probably trying to figure out just how ignorant one person can be.

“And the fact that we aren’t together any longer, makes it complicated, you know?”

He’s leaning against my desk, his muscular arms crossed in front of him. I can’t help but notice how beautifully angry he is, if that makes sense. But does he still love me? That he hasn’t said.

“No, it doesn’t make it complicated, baby. You know how much I wanted you back here. Leaving was your choice, and had nothing to do with the way I felt or what I wanted. That’s on you.”

“Right,” I say, “That’s why you moved Mama back in?”

He gives a heavy sigh. “That was well after the fact and you damn well know the rationale behind it. What was I supposed to do? Not help out your grandparents when they needed it?”

“So…did you
fuck
her?”

His eyes narrow and I know I’ve crossed a line with him, but I don’t care. I want to know.

“You really are clueless, aren’t you? You need to fucking grow up, September. We have a baby coming and I’ll be damned if I’m going to deal with the same shit I dealt with six years ago. Not happening.”

Now I feel my blood boil at the implication that I could ever be like Mama! “Fuck you, Jesse!” I shout, jumping to my feet.

His mouth turns up in a sardonic grin. “I’ll pass for now. I want a
woman
in my bed, not some petulant teenager
pretending
to be one. I’m not going to tolerate any more games, do you understand?” His eyes are boring into me with fiery anger. He means business.

“What do you expect from me?” I ask, feeling every bit as clueless as he just labeled me. “Tell me.”

His face softens just a tiny bit. “I expect the same woman I fell in love with last year. Now, I get that maybe I didn’t step up to the emotional plate like I should have back then, but I have now, and it looks like you’re the one with reservations. You need to sort out your emotions, September. I can’t do that for you. You have to search your own soul and decide what is best for you. Regardless of any of that, there is a child coming into the picture, and we will either raise that child together or apart. This isn’t about just you anymore.”

“I don’t want to go back to school until after the baby gets here, is that okay?” I blurt.

He studies me for a moment. “But you do plan on going back, right? This doesn’t have to spoil any plans you’ve had for an education or a career. I want to make that clear to you because I’ve always stood my ground on that subject.”

“Yes, I do want to re-enroll next fall. The baby is due in July,” I murmur, and feel my face flush.

“And what do you want to do in the meantime?”

“Well, I haven’t given it a lot of thought, but I don’t know, maybe help you with the business?”

He only takes a couple of seconds to agree. “That might work out. I’m not one for all this recordkeeping shit, and that computer and I don’t always get along. Okay. I’ll put you on the payroll for twelve hours a week starting January 1st, and in mid-February, it will increase to twenty hours, how’s that?”

And for the first time in a long time, I feel as if I have a plan, but there is a question. “Can you tell me how much my hourly pay will be?”

He gives me a look. “How’s fifteen bucks an hour?”

I quickly calculate that in my head and come up with around seven thousand dollars. “That should do it,” I reply, giving him a meek smile.

“I’m not charging you rent, September. Why the concern?”

I look down at my hands and pick at my fingernails. “I need to pay the birthing costs for the baby.”

He sighs and pulls me against him, rubbing my back. “You don’t worry about that, you hear? We will take care of that. I want you to focus on getting your life on track, and to really think about whether you want me in your future or not.”

He tilts my chin upward so that my eyes lock with his. I nod, and then he finally gives me a gentle smile. “I know you’re right,” I reply, “I just got so confused with everything and now my feelings are all skewed. Maybe it’s hormonal?”

“With women it’s always hormonal,” he replies with a soft chuckle. “But hey, I won’t hold that against you, babe.” He kisses the tip of my nose gently. “But it has to be your move, September, because I already know how I feel. And I trust it. I don’t want you with me if you can’t trust it too.”

January 10th

What the hell was I thinking when I had moved September’s shit into the room Libby had just vacated?

Yeah, I realize that I had been furious with her for running off like that, and not telling me shit. Anyone would have been. It was not an
adult
thing to do, no doubt. But banishing her back to her old room had seemed almost a
parental
move on my part, which, aside from being a little creepy, was now more of a punishment to me than anything else. I get that she needs to come to terms with her feelings for me, and I’d been proud of my words of wisdom to her—at the time. It made sense. Unfortunately, my libido does not agree. I believe the correct term for this is that I cut off my balls to spite my dick!

It doesn’t help when I pass her in the hall at night after she’s fresh out of the shower, beating a swift path to her room with nothing but a towel wrapped around her blossoming body.

“Sorry,” she apologized, her cheeks flushed, “I forgot my robe in my room.”

Is it my imagination or have her tits grown a couple of cup sizes?

All I can manage to do is let out a grumpy snarl, which is directed more at me than her, but hell, she doesn’t need to know that. So fuck me. The fact that it has happened about three times now causes me to wonder if somehow her pregnancy is making her forgetful. I never underestimate the power of female hormones.

I’ve just finished getting ready for work when I hear a tap on my bedroom door.

“Yeah?” I call out.

“Jesse, I’m dropping Scout off at school and then I have a doctor’s appointment. I’ll be in the office around eleven to do payroll,” September says from the hallway.

I open the door, and give her a glare, though I’m not sure why I feel pissed off. “What doctor? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong. I just have to have my monthly checkup is all,” she replies softly. “It’s no big deal.”

I finish buttoning my shirt, watching her. “It is a big deal, babe. Why didn’t I know about this?”

“I just told you.”

I frown, walking out into the hall past her. “I meant that maybe I’d like to go with you. Did you consider that?”

I feel her following behind me, and she is obviously at a loss for words, but hell, doesn’t she get it that I want to be a part of this with her?

“I’m sorry, Jesse,” she says behind me. “I didn’t think about it, I guess.”

I stop and turn to face her, and damn if I don’t want to pull her up against me and wrap my arms around her. I’m just not sure it’s what she wants. And apart from that, I’m not sure if I could even let her go. I miss being with her in the physical sense and, no, it’s not just about the sex, though I sure as hell miss that too.