Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
FAITH
I stare at the plus sign on the pregnancy test again, trying not to hyperventilate. My mom’s voice rips through my head so loudly, and clearly, it’s like she’s almost in the room.
Why buy the cow when the milk’s free? Nothing kills love faster than marrying for it. A good-time-man won’t ever change his ways. You’re worth nothing without your virginity.
I know they’re outdated, spiteful, and stupid thoughts. But with as many times as I heard them growing up, it’s no wonder they still taunt me. Especially when I feel most vulnerable.
Travis’s last words run through my head. Goodbye, my love.
I close my eyes, remembering the warmth of his soulful gaze. His eyes communicated an ardency that went beyond any three-word phrase. I know this with unwavering certainty.
But we’ve never discussed things like having a family together, except in the most vague terms. I don’t know how he’ll take the news, and I don’t want to give him more to worry about while he’s on a roll.
His messages have proven few and far between as he warned, and when I watch the news, it scares me. Two-hundred and twenty thousand acres burned and still counting, with strong winds, little air support, and less than ten percent containment.
I can’t add family news to his plate right now.
My reticence is exacerbated by my inability to process the news. I was on birth control pills. Pills that I’ve taken daily without a missed dose in years. I don’t understand how this could happen.
Raising up a silent prayer, I ask God to help me through this. I know I’ve got some serious growing up to do over the next nine months.
Plenty of trouble’s on the horizon. From a coming confrontation with the House of the Seven Prophets to worry about how Travis will take the news.
I never imagined I’d stare down single motherhood out of wedlock. But it’s a distinct possibility, even though I think I know Travis better than that.
Then again, marriage isn’t a subject we’ve spent much time on, either.
On top of it all, I’m afraid I’ll be a terrible mother.
My own childhood was so toxic, I don’t know the first thing about how to create a loving household for a little one.
And with Travis’s foster-child past, he has his own set of baggage when it comes to family matters.
As the minutes tick by, the loneliness of my current situation kicks in. What if I have to do this all alone? What if Travis refuses to be in the picture? Who will I turn to? I shouldn’t think this way.
Travis has given me no reason to doubt him. Still, an unexpected and potentially unwanted pregnancy is a lot to take in. Even for couples who have been together for years.
I don’t know how I’ll find the words to tell my sister. I’m terrified of seeing a searing look of judgment in her eyes, like my mom used to get.
I know Birdie’s up. I’ve heard her shuffling around the kitchen for at least a couple of hours now, and I need to talk to somebody. Especially since I can’t call Travis about this.
Birdie hasn’t given me any reason not to trust her since returning home. But she’s a product of the same upbringing, and I know that comes with a natural inclination to start and end with judgment.
Moreover, she’s been so busy between her home healthcare patients and trying to save the ranch and the feed store from bank foreclosure, that we haven’t had the time to catch up and re-learn each other the way I hoped.
Of course, me spending as much time with Travis over the past month as I have hasn’t helped matters any. But I haven’t even had time to explain to her all that’s going on with him.
I must admit, I’ve held back because I don’t know how thrilled she’d be to know I’m hooking up with Zane’s younger brother.
WHEN I WALK into the room, Birdie asks, “What’s got you up so early, little sis?”
I bite my lower lip, ready to burst into tears. Instead, I swallow hard, trying to sound casual. “I could ask the same thing of you. Sounds like you’ve been up for hours.”
Exhaustion shows in my older sister’s face, framed by beautiful black locks. She was honorably discharged from the Navy a few months back and moved home to help me with Mom. I have to admit, she’s a different woman than the girl I remember from our childhood.
Twelve years in the service of our country as a nurse have made her more compassionate and understanding than anyone in this family or our church. But I guess the last one doesn’t count because she broke from the church a long time ago.
With a baby on the way, I will, too. In the kind of spectacular fashion the old ladies will gossip about, and the church elders will preach about for generations. Of all the Jenkins who have ever lived, I’m the one to leave a giant black spot on the family reputation.
My hair’s in a tight ponytail, and I don’t have any makeup on.
Considering how close tears sit to the surface, I can’t risk putting on mascara.
My heart feels heavy as I sit down at the kitchen table across from my sister, my mind filled with all of the ugly things people will say about me and the baby.
“Honey, tell me what’s wrong.” I feel Birdie’s eyes on me, scrutinizing me from across the table.
A part of me frantically tries to come up with an excuse. Concealment is my knee-jerk reaction. Birdie’s a nurse, though, and sooner or later she’ll figure it out.
Besides, I made a promise to myself after Travis and I got together that I would quit leading a double life and embrace who I am. Honesty, even when it comes to difficult topics, is a vital part of keeping that promise.
Drumming my fingers on the tabletop, I say in a barely audible whisper, “I’m pregnant.”
Birdie’s reaction doesn’t disappoint. She nearly chokes on the coffee she’s sipping and spends the next couple of minutes trying to clear her throat.
I fight the urge to run to my room and lock the door, realizing the time for teenage antics is long gone. But something about being around family leaves me feeling more like a teen than a twenty-something.
Instead, I bury my head in my hands, sobbing uncontrollably. I can’t look at Birdie’s recriminating face. And I don’t want to hear her scold me. To my surprise, she rounds the table, sitting next to me and drawing me into a big hug .
Rubbing my back, she comforts me, “It’s okay.” The words should help. But the unexpected kindness makes me feel even more disappointed in myself.
My shoulders shake as the tears roll down my cheeks, and she says again. “I promise it’s going to be fine.”
She and I both know that’s not the truth. Hollister will soon be abuzz with the story, and church retribution will prove swift.
As these realizations crash down on me in waves, I stifle a sob, saying, “No.”
She holds me tight, letting me cry until I’m too exhausted for another tear to roll down my cheek.
“Let me make a quick phone call,” she says, excusing herself from the room. All I can do is nod, the threat of another torrent of tears ever-present.
I can’t look at Birdie when she comes back in the house. I’m terrified that a few minutes of reflection have given her the venom she needs to rip me to pieces.
That was always my parents’ MO. Seem to care and understand only to stab me in the back when I least expect it.
Birdie sits down beside me again, straddling the bench to face me. Instead of the recrimination I imagine, her eyes exude warmth and love. “Everything’s going to be okay, honey. I’m excited for you. I’m excited for our family. Honestly, this is the best news ever.”
Her words stun me. “Really? But what will people say about me?” Only after the words pour out do I remember Jess’s admonition to quit worrying about what other people think and start focusing on what I want.
Unknowingly, Birdie reinforces Jess’s words. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you find a way to be happy with this news. It’s incredible news. Amazing!” She pats my shoulder to punctuate the words.
“So you’re not ashamed of me or mad at me?” I question, peering into her face, looking for signs that might betray her innermost feelings. But all I see is genuine happiness piled on top of exhaustion.
“Not at all, sweetie. I’m excited! Can you imagine our joy with a little one running around this empty old house?” She catches herself on the last question, and I know it’s because of the impending foreclosure on our ranch.
She grabs my hand, leveling her gaze on me. “A couple of things. It’s time we find you a new church. I don’t want you going back to those people. That place. I know how they are, how they’ll judge you, and that’s the last thing you need right now.”
Birdie tells me about the non-denominational church she goes to, and it sounds welcoming. I can tell she’s surprised when I agree to start attending without hesitation.
Secretly, I’ve contemplated a break for months. I just didn’t have the courage because of how complicated it could and likely will get. But I can’t live in fear forever.
“Next thing,” Birdie continues. “Who’s the baby’s daddy?”
I try to hold it together. But between missing Travis, sleepless nights worrying about him on the frontlines, and the shock of processing the baby news myself, I start crying again. I’m a mess today.
Birdie shifts restlessly, rubbing my back some more. She visits a handful of home healthcare clients each day. I know she loves the work except for having to be around Travis’s older brother, Zane.
From everything she’s told me, he’s a pain-in-the-ass employer, fighting every step of the way as she tries to care for his dad, Wyatt. So, I understand her increasing urgency to leave before he does something unreasonable like discontinue services.
I can’t let her go without asking the question that’s plagued my mind all morning. “I was on birth control pills and everything. I don’t understand. How could this happen?”
“Did you ever miss a day?”
I shake my head.
“What about any medicines or vitamins you’ve been taking?” She grabs her phone and starts looking up information. “Both vitamin C and St. John’s wort can make the pill less effective. So can melatonin. Were you taking any of those?”
I look down, nodding my head, wishing I’d known that sooner. “All of the above, actually.”
Birdie’s eyes widen.
“I’ve been taking St. John’s wort for depression ever since Dad died and melatonin because I have trouble sleeping.
As for vitamin C, I take it to avoid getting sick.
After all, there’s barely enough help for the feed store as it is.
I feel so stupid for not knowing about this.
” I bury my head in my hands, trying to wrap my head around the news.
I can tell by my sister’s strained voice she has to get to work. “Honey, we’ll discuss this later, but please don’t be sad anymore. I’ll be here with you every step of the way. We’ll make this work, no matter what.”
I’m still looking down, so Birdie puts her hand under my chin, drawing it up until I look at her. “Everything’s going to be alright. We’ll get through this together.”
I ask her to promise to stay in Hollister to help me raise the baby, but all I get is a lukewarm “I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. I’ll be here for you.” Despite the lack of enthusiasm, her words still reassure me.
After Birdie leaves, I sit in silence for a long time, staring at my phone. I’m torn about whether to reach out to Travis. It’s the kind of news I’d prefer to deliver in person, but I don’t want to keep it from him, either. After all, he’s the daddy and has a right to know .
All I can do is leave it up to him. Picking up my phone, I look at our last string of messages from two days ago. He promised he’d call when he could, and I know he’s warned me days can stretch between communications.
The uncertainty of everything is killing me, though. I have to be more resilient than this. I have to rest firm in the faith that our relationship’s enduring and will survive this. But I’d feel so much better if I could hear his voice and know one way or the other how he’s going to take the news.