Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
MADONNA, “PAPA DON’T PREACH”
Gabby
I had no one.
My best friend broke up with me in every sense of the word, and I couldn’t talk to him on the phone. Olivia said she’d visit me, but I’d only seen her once since the start of the semester, and that was just because she was missing a shirt that she thought might have accidentally gotten put in my laundry hamper.
I hadn’t heard a peep from Matt since Christmas.
And I’d been too busy mourning the loss of Ben in my life to carve out time for a social life.
No friends.
No degree.
No job.
No boyfriend.
No direction.
And I was barely passing my classes.
“I’m pregnant,” I said, talking to God as if he didn’t already know. “I’m sorry. I know this isn’t how you wanted me to get pregnant. But I’m keeping the baby so that counts for something. Right?”
The thing with God was He didn’t answer prayers directly. I had to look for clues. He wasn’t the best verbal communicator.
“I suppose you think I should tell Ben,” I said, staring at the empty bunk bed above mine in the dark. It was nearly midnight, but I couldn’t sleep. “What do you want me to do when he rejects me again and his baby?”
I exhaled a deep sigh. “You can think on all of this and get back to me. But don’t wait too long because I can’t hide this baby forever.”
The next morning, I heard someone yell “Ben!” And I jolted out of bed and opened my door. Some guy with red, curly hair hugged the girl two doors down from me. Then they kissed and disappeared into her room. I deflated and shut my door.
“Oh no,” I whispered, reaching for the waste bin and retching twice before expelling the chicken sandwich I ate the previous night. Then I collapsed onto my desk chair.
“Is that a sign?” I whispered.
Whether it was a sign or coincidence, I uncapped my pen and wrote Ben a letter.
Dear Ben,
I know you’re not reading my letters, or if you are, you’re being a jerk and not responding. So I’ll keep this short.
I’m pregnant.
Sincerely,
Gabby
* * *
Two weeks later, after no response, I sent another letter.
Dear Ben,
Here’s a photo from the ultrasound. It’s too early to determine the sex, but I said I didn’t want to know anyway.
Sincerely,
Gabby
When I returned from mailing the letter early Saturday morning, Matt was waiting at my door with a bouquet.
“Hey,” I said, trying to smile past the morning sickness that seemed more all day, not just morning.
“Happy birthday,” he said.
My eyes widened. “How did you know?”
“Your mom mentioned it at Christmas, so I made a mental note.”
I unlocked my door. “Thanks. You’re the first one to wish me a happy birthday. My parents will call around ten. They call me every Saturday morning.” I tossed my purse and keys on my bed and took the vase of yellow roses from him.
“Listen, I haven’t been ignoring you on purpose. I’ve just been really busy.” He slid his fingers into his front pockets, giving me a sheepish grin that said he wasn’t that busy.
I smiled with a nod, letting him off the hook. “Hey, I get it. I’ve been busy too, otherwise I would have called.”
He mirrored my slow nod. Neither one of us had to say it. We knew the avoidance was mutual and intentional.
“Are you doing okay in your classes? If you ever need help, the offer still stands,” Matt said.
“I’m good.”
If C’s and D’s were good, then it wasn’t a lie.
“Are you doing okay in your classes? If you ever need help”—I smirked—“don’t ask me.”
Matt barked a laugh. “Thanks. That’s good to know.” He sat on the edge of my bed. “Have you heard from Ben?”
“Nope. Have you heard from Julianne?”
“Actually, yes. She called to let me know she made it safely to California. And we’ve talked every week since. It’s …” He twisted his lips. “Nice.”
Yes. I imagined it was nice to have the person you loved communicate with you.
“What are you doing for spring break?”
“Uh …” I fiddled with my hoodie strings.
“Going home?”
My gaze caught on my pillow just inches from his hand. It was the ultrasound picture. I stared at it every day.
As if I wasn’t already nauseous, the idea of Matt finding out made me feel faint as well. Before I could answer, his gaze followed mine. My jaw unhinged to speak, to distract him, anything to bring his attention back to me.
But it was too late.
He took the picture and stared at it through squinted eyes. “Who’s pregnant?” he murmured.
It felt like an honest, innocent question, as if he assumed there was no way it could be me.
I had a tiny window to make up anything and deliver it with confidence.
Olivia’s pregnant. Big surprise, huh?
I found it in the hallway. I don’t know who it belongs to, but I’m going to ask around.
Eve’s pregnant. She sent me a picture.
Sarah’s pregnant, didn’t you know?
But I waited too long. My silence screamed the answer. And when he glanced up at me, the tears filling my eyes confirmed it.
“Jesus, are you serious?”
I wiped my face and nodded.
“Is it?—”
“It’s yours,” I said through a laugh and a sob.
Matt eyed me with a weird expression for a moment as if he questioned my sincerity, as if he needed to recall if he’d been drunk another night and accidentally had sex with me.
I grabbed a tissue from the box on my desk and wiped my eyes and nose. “Sorry. That was a bad joke.”
“Does he know?”
I nodded, then I shook my head. “I wrote him a letter, but either he’s not reading them or he doesn’t care.”
“Who else knows?”
I shrugged. “My doctor. And God. I told him first.”
Indecision warred on Matt’s face as if he wasn’t sure if it was a laughing matter.
It wasn’t, but what else was I supposed to do? Continue to cry my eyes out? Have an emotional breakdown because I was in way over my head without so much as a single trusted friend with whom to confide?
“What did God say?” Matt pressed his lips together to hide his grin.
“He said, ‘Well, shit, Gabriella. You really fucked up.’”
Matt’s eyebrows shot up his forehead as I slapped a hand over my mouth.
I didn’t cuss. Well, I didn’t do it unless someone (Ben) provoked me. And I definitely didn’t do it and blame God. That felt like an exponentially worse sin than anything else. Would He allow me to give my baby up for adoption before sending me straight to Hell?
Matt fisted a hand at his mouth to hide his snickering. “He did, huh?”
I plopped into my desk chair and fished a handful of crackers from the box. “How does it feel to have four years of college under your belt and be on your way to becoming a successful lawyer?”
He dropped his fist and frowned. “Gabby …”
I laughed. It sounded a little maniacal. “I’m serious. What if you would have followed Sarah to Nashville like a lovesick puppy? Not a penny to your name. No job. No skills. And just for fun, let’s pretend you had a uterus, and some other person got you pregnant. Can you even imagine? Oh wait! Did I mention said person doesn’t want to have anything to do with you? And said person lives with their parents and plays with Legos all day?”
Matt stood and took slow steps in my direction. Then he squatted in front of me. I shoved the crackers into my mouth, very unladylike. I couldn’t fully close my mouth while I chewed.
He took my hands. “No. I can’t imagine. But I know how it feels to think your life, as you imagined it, is over. And so does Ben. But I moved on. So will you, and so will Ben. In ten years, when you have this child and maybe one or two more running around your house, you’ll think back to this moment and laugh. You’ll think of all the things that turned out to be so much bigger than this moment, and you’ll laugh at the nineteen-year-old version of yourself who felt like the world was ending.” He squeezed my hands. “But it’s just beginning.”
I slowly chewed the crackers, tiny pieces falling from lips onto my lap. “That was an excellent speech,” I mumbled.
He wrinkled his nose as cracker crumbs shot in his direction.
“Tell me what you really think,” I said.
He chuckled, releasing my hands and sitting back on his butt, hands flat on the floor behind him. “I think … well shit, Gabriella. You really fucked up.”
I loved Matthew Cory. Maybe not like I loved Ben, but Matt was a good guy. He didn’t have to bring me flowers or give me a pep talk. No one expected him to keep an eye on me or even be my friend. He did it because it’s just who he was. Ben was a good guy too. At least, the Ben I knew before he lost his hearing. I wasn’t sure that Ben still existed, but I hoped so. That’s the Ben who I wanted to be my child’s father.
“What are you going to do, Gabby?” Matt asked with a more somber expression. “You have to tell your parents.”
“I know,” I whispered. “But I want to tell Ben first. He deserves to know before anyone, but I can’t exactly call his house and ask his mom to relay the message. And he won’t respond to my letters. I don’t think he’s reading them, so I’m just going to wait.”
“Wait? Wait for what?”
I shrugged. “Wait for him to open them.”
“What if he doesn’t?”
“He will. He has to.”
“Just tell him when you go home for spring break.”
I shook my head. “I’m not going home because my dad arranged for me to volunteer at a kids camp here at the church I’ve been attending. And I can’t tell them over the phone.”
“So when are you going to tell them? Or are you planning to go home after the semester nearly … six months pregnant? And then be like surprise! ”
“I don’t know. I’ll figure it out.”
Matt twisted his lips and nodded slowly. I knew he was holding back his judgment.
“Thanks again for the flowers.”
“You’re welcome. When is your next appointment?”
“In two weeks.”
“Want company?”
“You want to go to my OB appointment with me?” I squinted at him.
“I would. It has to suck going alone.”
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “Matthew…”
He grinned. “Gabriella…”
“You’re pretty awesome.”
He lifted his chin and puffed out his chest. “I know.”