I’m overcome with a pang of guilt as I remember that I never brought Grandma the brown sugar or cider she asked for. I help her out of the car, though she keeps insisting I stop all this fussing over her.
By the time she’s taken a bath and slid under her covers, I’ve cleaned up all the half-prepared food in the kitchen and refrigerator – to purge the house of all reminders. Then I sit back on the sofa and sigh. This is it. The moment I’ve been looking forward to and dreading all day.
I haven’t had a conversation with a girl, on the phone, for … years. I’m not sure what possessed me to ask Senia if I could call her. All I know is that I want to hear her voice. Just the thought of needing anything – anyone – like this is terrifying.
“You are going to hate me,” she says.
This is not the greeting I expected when I dialed her number, but I’m intrigued. “Why am I going to hate you?”
I half-expect her to tell me that she doesn’t have time to talk or that, on second thought, she really does want me to stop texting her. But the two words she whispers next make my balls shoot straight into my throat.
“I’m pregnant.”
“What the fuck? Is this a joke?”
“I wish.”
These two words catch me even more off guard, then it hits me. “Wait a minute. If you’re pregnant, why did you tell me to stop texting you?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know when I sent you that text message. But then I got sick a couple of hours later, and I knew something was wrong. Thanksgiving is my holiday! I can eat an entire pumpkin pie and not get sick. I was made for this day. Then I realized I’m two days late. I’m so lucky Claire’s gone for the night. She can’t know anything about this.”
“Whoa, whoa. Slow down. Do you keep pregnancy tests on hand for this sort of thing?”
She clears her throat nervously. “Um, yes. You don’t want to know what I have in my goodie drawer.”
I chuckle. “Actually, I think I do want to know. I want to know very badly.”
“Shut up. This is serious shit. I’m pregnant!” She whisper-shouts the last two words and this makes me smile.
I’ve never gotten anyone pregnant. Before I found out about Grandma a few weeks ago, I was always extremely careful not to become reckless like Elaine. I suppose I should be disappointed in myself, but I can’t help feeling a sense of pride for my little swimmers. They did their job on the very first try, as if they’d been training for this performance all their lives. Well, I guess they have had lots of practice.
“So what do you want to do?” I ask. I think that’s what I’m supposed to ask. I don’t think telling her to get an abortion is the way these things are handled, but I doubt either one of us is ready for a baby.
Then an evil but brilliant idea flashes in my mind. I immediately try to push it out, but it keeps nagging and poking me as I wait for Senia’s response.
“I don’t know.”
Crap. She’s crying.
“I’m not trying to tell you to get rid of it,” I insist.
She chuckles. “Yeah, like you want to have a kid. You’d probably rather get cancer.”
I can’t even move my lips to form a response to cover up what I’m feeling right now. She had no way of knowing what she just said would affect me so deeply, but she can sense something in my silence.
“I’m sorry. That was a real jerk thing to say considering I have no idea why you were at the hospital today.”
“It’s okay. You didn’t know. My grandma … She has stage-four breast cancer.”
“Oh, no. And I was telling you to stop texting me and now I’m calling you to tell you I’m pregnant. Oh God. I feel so selfish. I’m so sorry.”
She starts crying again and I get a strange urge to kiss her tears, to taste them the way I did before.
“You don’t have to be sorry. You didn’t know. But I have a way you can make it up to me.” She groans and I laugh. “Not sexual favors. I was kind of hoping you might want to come hang
By the time she’s taken a bath and slid under her covers, I’ve cleaned up all the half-prepared food in the kitchen and refrigerator – to purge the house of all reminders. Then I sit back on the sofa and sigh. This is it. The moment I’ve been looking forward to and dreading all day.
I haven’t had a conversation with a girl, on the phone, for … years. I’m not sure what possessed me to ask Senia if I could call her. All I know is that I want to hear her voice. Just the thought of needing anything – anyone – like this is terrifying.
“You are going to hate me,” she says.
This is not the greeting I expected when I dialed her number, but I’m intrigued. “Why am I going to hate you?”
I half-expect her to tell me that she doesn’t have time to talk or that, on second thought, she really does want me to stop texting her. But the two words she whispers next make my balls shoot straight into my throat.
“I’m pregnant.”
“What the fuck? Is this a joke?”
“I wish.”
These two words catch me even more off guard, then it hits me. “Wait a minute. If you’re pregnant, why did you tell me to stop texting you?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know when I sent you that text message. But then I got sick a couple of hours later, and I knew something was wrong. Thanksgiving is my holiday! I can eat an entire pumpkin pie and not get sick. I was made for this day. Then I realized I’m two days late. I’m so lucky Claire’s gone for the night. She can’t know anything about this.”
“Whoa, whoa. Slow down. Do you keep pregnancy tests on hand for this sort of thing?”
She clears her throat nervously. “Um, yes. You don’t want to know what I have in my goodie drawer.”
I chuckle. “Actually, I think I do want to know. I want to know very badly.”
“Shut up. This is serious shit. I’m pregnant!” She whisper-shouts the last two words and this makes me smile.
I’ve never gotten anyone pregnant. Before I found out about Grandma a few weeks ago, I was always extremely careful not to become reckless like Elaine. I suppose I should be disappointed in myself, but I can’t help feeling a sense of pride for my little swimmers. They did their job on the very first try, as if they’d been training for this performance all their lives. Well, I guess they have had lots of practice.
“So what do you want to do?” I ask. I think that’s what I’m supposed to ask. I don’t think telling her to get an abortion is the way these things are handled, but I doubt either one of us is ready for a baby.
Then an evil but brilliant idea flashes in my mind. I immediately try to push it out, but it keeps nagging and poking me as I wait for Senia’s response.
“I don’t know.”
Crap. She’s crying.
“I’m not trying to tell you to get rid of it,” I insist.
She chuckles. “Yeah, like you want to have a kid. You’d probably rather get cancer.”
I can’t even move my lips to form a response to cover up what I’m feeling right now. She had no way of knowing what she just said would affect me so deeply, but she can sense something in my silence.
“I’m sorry. That was a real jerk thing to say considering I have no idea why you were at the hospital today.”
“It’s okay. You didn’t know. My grandma … She has stage-four breast cancer.”
“Oh, no. And I was telling you to stop texting me and now I’m calling you to tell you I’m pregnant. Oh God. I feel so selfish. I’m so sorry.”
She starts crying again and I get a strange urge to kiss her tears, to taste them the way I did before.
“You don’t have to be sorry. You didn’t know. But I have a way you can make it up to me.” She groans and I laugh. “Not sexual favors. I was kind of hoping you might want to come hang
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