Chapter 40
CHAPTER FORTY
MICHAEL JACKSON, “MANINTHEMIRROR”
Ben
I returned home, and my mom had a million questions written on notecards about the drive, where I stayed, if I wanted to go back to school, how I communicated, and if Gabby was surprised and excited to see me. My dad focused on his dinner, seeing how my mom had all the questions covered. And I felt Tillie’s gaze on me the whole time, so I refrained from looking at her.
Then the next morning, we attended church. After the service, I handed notes to my parents and Gabby’s.
After the congregation exits, I need to talk to you in the church.
All four parents inspected me through narrowed eyes before nodding. Tillie gave me the stink eye when my mom sent her to wait in the car. Then, the five of us gathered at the front of the empty church. It felt like I had God on my side, but I knew better. I was using God and his house as a shield.
“Have a seat,” I said to them, but I remained standing.
Pastor Jacobson was the most reluctant. It might have been the first time he sat in the front row of his own church. I came prepared with four notebooks and pens in my backpack, and I handed them to our parents. The uneasiness in their expressions intensified.
The thought of suggesting a prayer before beginning tempted me. I thought, perhaps, asking God to open our minds and hearts and fill them with love, acceptance, and forgiveness might be a nice touch. But I didn’t.
“Thanks for staying,” I said instead. “I’m sure everyone knows that I’ve been back at school.” I focused on Pastor and Mrs. Jacobson since my parents knew, but I assumed my mom told Gabby’s parents.
They nodded.
“I’m in love with Gabriella,” I said, wasting no time getting to the point.
Our moms glanced at each other with tears in their eyes and smiles so bright I thought they might explode. Our dads were more reserved.
“I’ve been in love with her for a long time, and I thought it was a crush that might go away. In some ways, I hoped it would because I didn’t think she could ever think of me as more than a friend. Come to find out, she loves me too.”
I hoped it was still true.
That’s all it took for a stray tear to escape down my mom’s face as she squeezed my dad’s hand. “I want to ask Gabby to marry me, and I’d like all of you to give us your blessing and support.” I kept my focus on Pastor Jacobson.
He swallowed hard and tiny lines formed along his forehead, then he uncapped his pen and scribbled a response.
You’re both young. Don’t you think waiting until you’re done with college, and you have your future figured out would be a better idea?
“That,” I drew out the word and scratched the back of my neck, “probably would have been the best idea. But,” I dove off the cliff, ripped off the bandage, “life rarely goes as planned. For example, I never imagined losing my hearing. And I don’t think Gabby nor I imagined having a baby together so soon, but we are, so I hope we can all embrace this exciting moment because there’s no going back.” Sweat soaked my pits and beaded along my brow.
It felt like a blinking contest, and I didn’t know who would win as they sat like statues displaying varying degrees of shock.
“I’m sorry,” I continued, forcing my attention to Gabby’s parents. “This is my fault. I should have been more responsible. Sadly, it wasn’t my first time having sex, and I should have known better.”
My mom’s shoulders drew inward as she reached for my father’s hand, holding it in her lap while squeezing it tightly. She dropped her gaze as if they, too, were in trouble with Pastor Jacobson.
Gabby’s mom wrote something, then she scribbled it out. Again, she wrote something, and again, she scribbled it out before setting the pen on the pad of paper with a shaky hand. Then she wiped her tears that no longer seemed like happy ones.
Why are you telling us this instead of Gabby?
Pastor Jacobson’s jaw muscles tightened as he held up his notepad.
“It’s a long story, but she wanted to tell me first, and it took a while for her to get that message to me. She doesn’t know I’m telling you this or asking for her hand in marriage. I’m doing it because I don’t want her subjected to more stress than necessary. When she comes home for summer, I don’t want her scared out of her mind to tell you and risk anything happening to the baby. So if you need to yell at someone, let it be me. I can take the lectures, the anger, the disappointment, but I won’t let you dump it on her.”
Pastor Jacobson frowned, so I cleared my throat and finished by saying, “sir,” so he didn’t feel disrespected despite the news that I impregnated his youngest daughter.
When did this happen?
Janet, Gabby’s mom, wrote.
“When did she get pregnant?” I clarified, realizing I made it sound like something Gabby did all on her own.
However, “When did I have sex with your daughter?” or “When did I knock her up?” didn’t feel right either.
Janet nodded.
“Christmas break,” I said. Did that mean the birth of Jesus made us horny?
What are your plans? How are you going to support Gabby and the baby?
Pastor Jacobson wrote.
“Well, Sir, I had a lot of time to think about this on the drive home. And I want to support Gabby in whatever she wants to do. If she wants to stay in school, I’ll move to Michigan and work nights and weekends to support us so I can be with the baby during the day when she’s at school. If she wants to move back to Devil’s Head to be near family, then I will work here.”
My dad held up his notepad.
You have derailed your life and hers.
“I know, and I’m sorry about that, but I can’t change it no matter how disappointed or angry anyone is about it.”
My mom said something to Gabby’s mom, and she replied while digging a tissue from her purse. Then Pastor Jacobson’s lips moved, but my dad just stared at me with disappointment in his eyes.
I wanted to know what they were saying, but I refrained from speaking until Pastor Jacobson wrote:
We need to talk to Gabby.
“Of course, sir. However, I’d like to let her know I talked to you, so she’s not blindsided.”
Janet shook her head and scribbled.
She really doesn’t know you’re telling us?
“No, ma’am.” I contemplated sharing more, like how I wasn’t sure Gabby would marry me since she didn’t even want to speak to me.
I have never felt so disappointed in you as I do right now. Poor Gabby.
My mom delivered her message with a few tears.
Admittedly, it was irresponsible and dumb. But in all fairness, I pulled out.
“Yes, ma’am.” I nodded. “But I’ve always wanted to marry her and have a family with her. I also wanted the ability to hear for the rest of my life. Plans change. Life happens. I can’t undo anything even with a million sorrys. So I’m doing my best by taking responsibility. I’m learning sign language. I’ve bought Gabby books on pregnancy and taken her healthy meals and snacks. I’m going to see if I can get more time off work to be back for her next OB appointment. I’ll take all the blame. Just please, don’t be mad at Gabby.”
Janet stood and stared at me. I half-expected her to slap my face. Instead, she hugged me. I hesitated for a few seconds before embracing her. As I stared at Pastor Jacobson over her shoulder, I didn’t get the vibe that he was next in line for a hug.
* * *
As soon as we arrived home, I sprinted upstairs and waited for Tillie, who took her sweet time.
“I need you to call Gabby and tell her I need her to listen to me. Then I need you to write down what she says.”
Tillie crossed her arms over her chest and scowled at me for a few seconds before brushing past me and sitting at my desk.
Only if you tell me what happened in church.
“I told everyone that Gabby’s pregnant. Now I need to tell her before her parents call her.”
She doesn’t know you were going to tell them?
I shook my head while dialing Gabby’s phone number. Tillie returned saucer eyes.
“Just hand me the phone as soon as she says, ‘Hello.’”
Tillie held the phone to her ear for a few seconds before quickly handing it back to me.
“Hey, Gabbs. Obviously, I can’t hear you, but I need to tell you something, and then you can reply to Tillie, and she will relay your response. After church, I told our parents about the pregnancy because I didn’t want you to have to do it and risk anyone getting upset or making you feel bad. That wouldn’t be good for you or the baby. I told them it was my fault, and that I planned on doing whatever you feel is best. So I’ll move to Michigan and work nights while you go to school during the day. Or I’ll get a better job close to Devil’s Head if you want to move home and finish your schooling later. It’s your choice. And just so you know, when I finished telling them, your mom hugged me. My dad said nothing. My mom is disappointed in me. And your dad might want to kill me. So … how do you feel? I’m giving the phone to Tillie.”
Tillie held the phone back to her ear. After a few seconds, her lips moved. She frowned and hung up the phone.
“Hey!” I hurried and picked it back up.
She hung up.
“What?” I shook my head. “No. You must have gotten disconnected.”
I don’t think so. She hung up on purpose.
I dialed her number again and handed the phone to Tillie, who rolled her eyes. After a long pause, she hung up.
She’s not answering.
“You didn’t wait long enough.”
It rang ten times.
I scrubbed my hands over my face and grumbled, “Dammit, Gabbs. Pick up the phone.”
Sorry.
Tillie set the pen on the paper and patted my shoulder before leaving my room.