November Blues by Sharon M. Draper Read Free Book Online

“I’m…I’m pregnant, Mom.”
    Her mother said nothing for a full minute. Her mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again as if she was trying to speak, but no words came out. Finally she said simply, “Oh my.” Her voice was a squeak.
    â€œAre you mad at me?” November stared at her wild-eyed mother.
    â€œOh, my Lord.” Mrs. Nelson stood up, sat down, then stood up again. “You can’t be—you better not be!” Her voice was gravelly and threatening. She walked around the kitchen, then returned to her chair and put her head on the table. Then she sat up and raked her hands through her hair. “I can’t deal with this! Not you. Not you , November!”
    â€œPlease don’t be angry, Mom. Please…” November cringed.
    â€œAngry? I’m not sure if that’s the right word. Astonished,maybe. Outraged, perhaps. Maybe even just plain pissed. The thought of you…my baby girl…oh my.”
    â€œI’m sorry,” November whispered.
    â€œHow could you?” Her mother’s face was the palest November had ever seen it.
    November was sure her mother didn’t really want the answer to that one. “I know you’re disappointed,” November said to the floor.
    â€œRight now what I’m feeling is disgust, I think.”
    November sniffled. “I feel so bad, Mom. I feel like I just beat you in the head with a hammer.”
    â€œI’ve got to be honest. I do too.” Her mother’s hair was a mess as she kept massaging her temple with her fingers.
    â€œPlease don’t hate me,” November begged.
    Her mother said nothing for a minute or so. Finally she breathed deeply. “I hate that this has happened to us, November.” Then her eyes went wild once more and she moaned deeply, then began to sob.
    All November could see was the heaving of her mother’s shoulders. Afraid to even touch her, November stared at her parents’ faded wedding photo on the mantel and wished she were on another continent, another planet. Any place but this small kitchen full of grief and disappointment. “Please stop crying, Mommy,” she whispered.
    â€œHow long have you known?” asked her mother, when she finally sat up. Her mascara had smeared.
    â€œA month or so.”
    â€œAnd you didn’t tell me?” Her mother got up and blew her nose on a paper towel. “I need some coffee,” she saidabsently. She turned to make a cup of coffee but seemed to have trouble finding her favorite red cup, which was sitting right on the counter, or locating a spoon in the drawer full of silverware.
    â€œI was afraid to tell you. And ashamed,” November admitted, looking back down at the floor. It was easier to watch the floor than her mother’s jerky, uncomfortable movements.
    Mrs. Nelson scooped three tablespoons of instant coffee into a cup, added water, and popped it into the microwave. “I’m confused,” she said to November. “When did this happen? None of this makes sense.”
    â€œJust before Josh died,” November whispered.
    â€œI guess most parents are the last to know about what their children are doing, but I know that you and I have had lots of open and honest conversations about sexual stuff since you were a little girl.” The microwave bell dinged and she removed the coffee.
    â€œYeah,” November said, shrugging. “I know.”
    â€œYou always came to me with any questions, and I’ve always tried to be straight up with you.” Mrs. Nelson poured skim milk into her coffee.
    â€œI always thought that was really cool you talked to me like that. None of the other girls’ moms would even say the word ‘sex,’” November said, almost afraid to look at her mother.
    â€œI guess that’s why this hits me so hard. I thought we were kinda close and able to discuss everything. I didn’t even know you were, uh, you