do. As I shut Justin’s front door, I place my hand over my belly. It’s still as flat as it’s always been, toned from hours of training in the flips and jumps that have put me front and center of the cheer team.
Knowing there’s more in there than just my own flesh and blood moves me in a way that surprises me to the core.
One down, one to go.
Telling Justin was easy compared to what it’s going to be like to tell my mom.
2
“You… you’re what?” Mom stares at me with wide eyes that drift down to my belly. As I’m nowhere near showing, she finds nothing that can confirm the news she wishes she wasn’t hearing from me right now.
“Pregnant. I think around six weeks.”
“How… how do you know?”
“I’m late. I took a test.”
“Who? How?” she mutters as she sinks slowly into a chair. My usually robust single mom, who works three jobs to keep us afloat, looks crumpled and defeated. She’s only thirty-eight, but suddenly she seems so much older.
“Justin,” I say.
“Cathy’s boyfriend?” Her eyebrows raise as her eyes narrow.
“He’s not her boyfriend. They broke up months ago.”
Mom shakes her head, then drops her face to her hands. I see her shoulders rise and fall as she inhales deeply. Does she feel faint, or is she trying to push down her anger and frustration? I’ve never had to face my mom with anything like this, so I have no idea how she’s going to react.
“Are you okay, Mom?” I ask.
She raises her head slowly, as though she’s aged and weary, and shakes it, closing her eyes as though she can shut out reality. “Did I teach you nothing? Did you learn nothing from watching me… from knowing how hard things are for me? I thought you knew. I thought you understood. I thought I had you on the right track.”
“You did, Mom. It was a mistake… an accident.”
“Oh God,” she says. “You were having sex with your friend’s ex-boyfriend. I take it he’s not going to be interested in helping you.”
I shake my head.
“Of course.” Mom’s eyes roll as though Justin’s reluctance is a universal fact when it comes to teen pregnancy. “There’s still time for us to deal with this. I can call someone. Make arrangements.”
“I don’t want that,” I say calmly. “I couldn’t do that. You didn’t do that.”
I can see how much she wants to tell me that she should have done. I know my mom loves me, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’ve made her life more challenging by existing.
“I’m calling Justin’s mom. She needs to know what her son has done. That family needs to take some responsibility.”
I take a seat on the black leather chair that we brought back from Grandad’s house when he passed. He’d be disappointed with me too. All the hopes he had for Momma passed on to me. Now they’ll pass on to the child inside me that is barely more than a few cells.
“There’s no point in doing that. It won’t change anything. I know this isn’t what you wanted for me. I know this isn’t the ideal situation. I know that everything will be hard, but I can’t go back and make it different. I can’t change what’s happened. All I can do is try to make the best of it.”
“I thought I was almost done,” Mom says. “I thought you were almost ready to fly the nest, and I could have some time, maybe cut one of my jobs, take a vacation…” Her voice trails away, and my stomach sinks. She thinks this is the end of her dreams, too, and that breaks my heart.
“I don’t need you to do anything, Mom. I’m going to take care of everything.”
She shakes her head, like the very idea that I’ll be able to stand on my own two feet is too foolish even to hear. “In fact, forget Justin’s mom. I’m calling your dad,” she says. “It’s time that he stood up and took some responsibility for you. He’s a grown man at least, unlike Justin.”
She grabs her phone from the coffee table and starts swiping through her contacts. I haven’t spoken to my dad for nearly a decade. Not since the argument. I don’t think Mom has spoken to him in that time either. Now she’s gonna call him and tell him I’m pregnant. My cheeks heat with shame. Mom puts the phone to her ear, waiting for him to answer. I see her