Sixteen
Sixteen
SEPTEMBER 1996
I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes as I sat up in bed, clearing my throat. It was eight in the morning, entirely too early to be awake, but someone was pacing the hallway, the old floorboards creaking louder than any alarm clock. I assumed my father was preparing for another lecture.
“What do you want?” I called out, hoping he went away.
The door creaked open. It was Tess. As she timidly stepped inside, I felt a thrill of excitement until a pit in my stomach grew and I quickly looked around for a T-shirt to throw on. “I needed to see you,” she said.
I needed to see her too, but after our last conversation, I had no idea where we stood. All summer, it felt like I’d finally found my match, but the way Tess told me about her pregnancy made me question if she felt the same way. I debated asking her to leave, but when I looked into her eyes, I knew that was impossible. The draw of Tess Murphy was too strong.
I swung my legs out of bed and moved toward her. I wrapped my arms around her waist and gently lifted her up, kissing her lips before a wave of panic settled in.
“I’m sorry. Did I squeeze too tight?”
She shook her head. “No, Grant. I’m fine.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Your dad let me up.”
“He did?”
She nodded. “He’s downstairs.” She looked up at me, her round eyes wide. “He says you’re leaving this afternoon.”
I reached for a pair of shorts and slipped them on over my boxers. “That’s what he says, but I’m not going anywhere with him. I can’t go to Princeton.”
Tess walked over to the bed and gestured for me to sit beside her. I followed, and she reached for my hands. Her voice was gentle. “You have to go, Grant.”
I shook my head defiantly. “Tess, I can’t leave you. I’ve told him that a dozen times. I’m not going to Princeton.”
“Princeton is an opportunity you don’t throw away.”
“I got into UVA. It’s closer, it’s a good school. I can start next semester after we’ve gotten settled in Charlottesville.”
“Grant, it’s not going to work.”
“What’s not going to work?”
I watched as tears started falling down her cheeks. She looked into my eyes and my breath caught, afraid of what she was going to say next.
“I can’t raise a baby,” Tess said through choked sobs. “I don’t want to raise a baby.”
“What does that mean?”
She sat quietly, waiting for her body to calm and her voice to return. She took a deep breath before she announced, “I’m having an abortion. I thought a lot about what you said, but I haven’t changed my mind.” She handed me the slip of paper with an appointment time at some place called the Whole Woman Clinic.
Somehow our hands fell apart. I didn’t know whether my grip loosened or she pulled away.
“Don’t I get a say in this?” It sounded too much like an accusation.
Tess stayed calm as she answered, “No. You don’t.”
I turned away, immediately pacing the room. I wanted a conversation, a decision made together. But instead, it felt like Tess was giving instructions that I was meant to blindly follow.
My hands ran through my hair, pulling it in opposite directions. When I turned to face her, my fists were balled, my jaw moving back and forth as I tried to find the words to respond.
Tess walked toward me, her calmness quickly evaporating. She pointed her finger at my chest and said, “You don’t get to be angry with me either. It’s my choice, Grant. You have to respect that.”
“But I don’t. I don’t respect your choice.”
“I can see that.”
I reached for her, pulling her body against mine. “Tess, I’m begging you to change your mind.”
Her hands pushed against my chest, creating space between us. “No, you’re not thinking this through clearly.”
“You’re scared. You’re letting fear make decisions. You can’t live life like that.” I cupped my hands around her face, staring into her eyes with desperation.
Tess reached up, placing her hands around my own and removing them from her face. “I’m not scared. I’m realistic. I know what this life will be like and I love us too much. I love myself too much.”
Her words felt like a slap. “What about our baby? What about me?”
She turned away, walking toward the door. “I want you to try to see this from my perspective. I want you to trust me.”
“If you decide to kill our baby, how can I ever trust you, Tess?” We were in separate corners of the room. I’d never felt farther apart from Tess.
“I’m not killing our baby, Grant. This is me. This is my body. This is my future.”
“There’s nothing I can say to change your mind?”
“No.”
“I don’t know if I can get past this, Tess.”
“I don’t know if I can either.”
“What does that mean?”
“You should get going. Your father was eager to leave.”
“What about us?”
“Is there an ‘us,’ Grant?”
“I thought so. But you seem like a stranger today.”
“Why? Because I’m not doing what you want?”
My whole body deflated. “But there is a part of me in there too.”
“I love you, Grant, but I need you to respect my decision. I’ll be waiting for you if you can.”
“If you get what you want, I lose.” I pleaded, “Tess, I can’t lose any more. Please don’t do this to us.”
Tess’s chin quivered before she turned and ran out of my room, her footsteps moving too quickly down the stairs. As the front door slammed, I picked up the closest object I could find, a lacrosse cleat, and hurled it against the wall.
It punctured the plaster, leaving a hole and a trail of dust. I felt my legs shake and I slumped onto my bed.
The realization that I’d lost Tess settled in. She’d been in my life only a few months, but I couldn’t imagine her being gone. Especially now, when each day felt lonelier than the last, the pain and confusion over my mother’s death deepening.
I thought about what Tess said and whether I could move past this moment. Could I imagine a life with Tess, knowing that she chose to end her pregnancy when I so desperately wanted her to have this baby?
I reached for my pillow and smothered it over my face, muffling my screams of frustration.
It was then that my father barged in, throwing the door open and kicking aside piles of clothes, his eyes focused on the hole in the wall.
“Clean up this mess and get in the shower,” he ordered. “We’re leaving in an hour.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
He sighed, seemingly annoyed that he needed to parent for a moment. “You are better off without her.”
“No, I’m not. I’m nothing without her. She’s the only person I’ve ever loved.”
He rolled his eyes. “That’s not love.”
“You have no idea what it means to love another person,” I screamed.
“And you’re the expert? At eighteen?”
“I have to fix this. Maybe Tess is right.”
“About the pregnancy?” Richard asked, vocalizing the topic both of us avoided.
I nodded. “I don’t want to lose the baby, but I don’t want to lose Tess more.”
“You can’t take care of a baby, Grant.” His tone made me want to prove him wrong, but doubt crept in. Maybe we were too young. I had no idea what a child needed and no real example to follow.
My stomach dropped, realizing that without Tess, I was all alone. My mother was gone and I could barely stand to share the same space with my father. Whatever it took, I needed Tess in my life. Even if it meant going along with her plans.
I walked toward the door as I said, “I have to go get her.”
“Sit down, son.”
“No. I need to find Tess. I love her.”
“If it’s love, it’s the cheapest love you are likely to encounter.” My father walked to the window, his arms crossed. This was the position he assumed when he was about to impart some pearl of wisdom about the way the world worked. I’d never wanted to hear a lecture less.
“I paid her to have the abortion.” My father’s words echoed in my ears as my vision started to swirl. I shook my head, but he continued. “If this had been a girl at Princeton, it probably would have cost double. Be smarter, Grant.” He threw a box of condoms at me.
I stared at the box, my mind reeling with what my father had said. “What are you talking about?”
“That girl. The one you’ve been running off with all summer. The one you were so careless with? I took care of that problem for you.”
“You paid Tess?”
“Yes. You can thank me later.”
None of what he was saying made sense. There had to be an explanation. “Tess took your money?”
“Of course she did. Girls like that always take the money,” he said with disgust.
“Not Tess.”
“Yes, Tess. The money matters more than you. Remember that. Next time you think about putting your future in jeopardy because you think it’s love, remember that it’s not you they love. It’s the money.”
I charged at him, unable to believe he’d go to these lengths, to make up a story like this. “Tess wouldn’t do that. You’re lying.”
“Do you want to see the bank records? I paid her, but honestly, Grant, paying for your mistakes is getting tiresome. I won’t be here to clean up the messes forever.”
“I never asked you to pay Tess. I never asked for anything,” I spat, scrambling to wrap my head around all of this.
“And yet, I did it anyway. Maybe that’s love.”
“I want no part of that love.” But I was beginning to deflate, the fight within me dissipating as the truth settled in.
“Get ready and get in the car. We’re going to be late. It’s a long drive to New Jersey.”
I was frozen. The devastation of my father’s revelation sent me into a dark spiral. My mind started replaying every moment of the summer as I questioned how I was so wrong about someone I thought I loved so much. My voice sounded flat, but my insides were rolling as I asked, “How much?”
“How much what?”
“How much money did you pay Tess?”
“Fifty thousand dollars.” My father waved his hand dismissively, as if he were discussing the cost of a nice dinner.
Waves of nausea churned in my stomach. “That’s how much our baby was worth.”
“No, Grant. That’s how much your future was worth.”
I was struck by the irony that Tess and my father agreed about something. Maybe they were more similar than I ever knew. The two people who should have been the closest in my life, my girlfriend and my father, both disgusted me. I thought I felt alone the day my mother died. But this day was worse. Sitting on my bed, I realized that I’d never had someone I could fully trust. And I wondered what made me so fucking unlovable.