No Tomorrow (Page 34)
I knew this conversation wouldn’t go well, but I never expected my father to be so sickened by me and my unborn baby that he would actually leave the house to get away from the sight of me.
He and Blue have that in common—walking away without communicating.
My heart aches as I slowly lift my head to meet my mother’s eyes across the table. Her lips are pursed in a thin line, her chestnut eyes pooled with emotion. Without a word, she places her napkin on her plate and when she stands, I’m sure she’s going to follow my father’s lead and leave. Instead, she falls into the chair next to mine and pulls me into her arms.
“We’ll get through this,” she whispers. “I promise.”
I cling to her, my body racking with sobs, afraid to let go for fear of losing another person when I need them the most.
“I’m so sorry, Mom. I never wanted this to happen.”
She strokes my hair, like she did when I was young. “I know, Piper. It’s going to be okay. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
I wipe my eyes with my napkin. “I’m so scared. Now Dad hates me, I don’t know where Blue is, and I have no idea how I’m going to raise a baby by myself. I don’t know how to be a mother.”
“Shhh… one day at a time. That’s how you do it, just like everyone else.” She smiles softly. “And your father doesn’t hate you. He’s going to need some time to accept this, but he will. Trust me.”
“I’m just so confused…when I talked to the counselor she made me believe I could do this but now, I just don’t know, Mom. One minute I think I’m okay and the next I’m falling apart.”
“You can do this, Piper, if it’s really what you want. Do you want to keep the baby? Are you sure?”
Still sniffling, I level my eyes at her and nod. “It’s all I’ve been thinking about. And I’m positive I want to keep the baby. I can’t imagine giving her up and never knowing what happened to her. I couldn’t live with myself. I know I’d regret it.”
“Her?”
I can’t help but smile through my tears. “Yeah. I just know I’m going to have a little girl. I can feel it.”
My mother takes a deep breath, but she’s still smiling. “It’s a lot sooner than I was expecting, but I guess I’m going to be a grandmother.”
“It all feels surreal to me. I don’t think I’m really going to believe any of this until she’s here.”
“I think all mothers feel that way.” She hesitates for a second. “Is it true? About the father? You honestly don’t know where he is, or what his full name is?”
I lean back in my chair and reach for my water. “It’s all true. But he’s not a bad person. I know it seems like he is, but that’s only because you don’t know him. He’s caring, and talented, and smart. He isn’t some dirty, scruffy guy with a shopping cart like you’re thinking. He’s good-looking, clean, and polite. It wasn’t just a fling. We really love each other.”
Her brow creases. “I don’t understand why he would be homeless, or why you don’t know his name or his whereabouts. That’s not normal, Piper. It worries me a great deal. All of this is so unlike you.”
How can I possibly explain Blue? I’m still trying to understand him myself, and I’ve come up with more questions than answers. “It’s hard to explain. He’s just different. I know Dad thinks he must be a loser and on drugs. When he was younger he did have a drug problem.”
Her eyes widen and I continue before she starts to panic.
“But he was in rehab and he’s clean now. He’s just one of those wandering, antsy, creative artist types. He can’t sit still.” My voice hitches with emotion and I pause to compose myself. Talking about him makes me miss him so much more. I’d do anything just to see his smile and hear his voice again. “He’s special, Mom. He’s difficult, and he lives in his own world, but he’s a good person. I don’t regret being with him at all.”
“I’m trying to understand, Piper. I never imagined any of my girls would be in a situation like this. Can you see him ever being a part of your life again? Or this baby’s?”
“I don’t know. In the immediate future? No. But maybe, someday. I think he’ll come back eventually. At least, I hope he does.” I do more than just hope. I wish, I pray, I envision, and I may have even briefly considered contacting a witch to put a spell on him.
Over the past few weeks I’ve asked myself a hundred times how I think Blue would react to the news of being a father, and every scenario brings me to a different conclusion. Sometimes I think he’d be happy, but other times, I think he’d be scared out of his damn mind and run, not walk, as far away as he could and never come back.
My mother starts to clean up the table. “I think you should move back home,” she suggests. “It would be best for you and the baby to be here with us.”
“What?” I straighten in my chair. “No. I can’t do that. I love my apartment. I can’t raise a baby in the basement, Mom. Even the cat hated it down there.” Moving back home has to be an absolute, last resort when no other choices are available. I refuse to lose everything I’ve worked so hard for and let my life fall apart just because I’m pregnant. The counselor told me lots of single mothers go to college, have careers, and live happy, normal lives even though most of them thought they couldn’t do it all in the beginning. I just have to stay focused on my goals, be a good mother, and make decisions that are best for me and the baby.
“Before you say no, will you please think about this? How are you going to take care of a baby living alone? You work full time. Daycare costs a fortune and will take up most of your paycheck. If you live here, I can take care of the baby all day while you’re at work. It will be much easier for everyone involved.”
I can’t deny that most of what she’s saying is true. I’ve already started researching local daycare centers and the weekly fees are a shock.
“Do you really want to be a babysitter all day? You just retired last year. I thought you wanted to do crafts. Learn to golf with Dad. Enjoy life while you’re still young.”
She waves her hand at me. “I can still work on my craft projects, and golf on weekends, if I want to, which I really don’t, but don’t tell your father that.”
I hold my ground. “I can’t move back in here. I need my space, and independence. If you’re serious about wanting to help me, what if I just bring the baby over here every day on my way to work, and pick her up after? Then the baby won’t have to be with strangers all day, and I can keep my apartment. I’ll even pay you.”
She gives me the side-eye as she wipes down the kitchen table. “Absolutely not. You are not paying me to watch my own grandchild.”
“Okay, but do you think that’s really something you want to do? After my maternity leave?”
“Maternity leave,” she repeats, closing her eyes as if she’s trying to absorb the words. “I never thought we’d be talking about this. Not for a long, long time.”
Neither did I.
“The answer is yes, Piper. Of course I’d love to take care of my grandchild every day. We’ll do this together. I’m not going to let anything happen to you and this baby. Do you have a good doctor? I’d like to go to your next visit with you. Or I could take you to my doctor, the one who delivered you and your sisters…”
“Mom,” I warn. “Slow down. You’re making my head spin. I have a doctor, but you’re welcome to come with me and supervise if you want to.”
“I just want to be sure you’re getting the best care.” She puts her hands on her hips and lets out a deep sigh. “All right. We have lots of time to plan and get all the things you’re going to need. Don’t worry about your father, I’ll talk to him and he’ll calm down. Everything will be okay, I promise.”
I want to believe her, but deep inside, little voices are whispering otherwise, and they’re hard to ignore.
Chapter Seventeen
2002
“Come on, Lyric. We’re going to get lunch.” I reach out to her, but she doesn’t take my hand. She’s way too engrossed with an orange and black caterpillar that’s creeping along the edge of the sidewalk. “I’m sure Mr. Caterpillar has somewhere to be, too.” She stares up at me, her big blue eyes full of curiosity and… contemplation. Always thinking, debating, and wondering, this little one.
I wave my outstretched fingers. “Come on, sweetie. You can have a smoothie when we get there.”
“Storeberry?”
“Yes, strawberry.”
Bribery is usually my last tactic to motivate her, but my stomach is growling and I have a pile of work waiting for me at home that I need to review for a meeting scheduled on Monday. Lyric hums happily to herself for the remainder of the walk from the parking lot to the café. A breeze blows our hair across our faces and I breathe in the warm air, welcoming the first signs of spring. I enjoy all the seasons, but I’ve had enough of winter. I can only handle so much snow, sweater-weather, and slush.