December 11th
A lot happened.
Ainsley
It’s been a busy couple of weeks. Nebraska won the conference championship last week in spectacular fashion.
The whole day was pretty spectacular, really.
Sammy and I watched the game at home. We had hot wings and fries at kickoff, which was something I had been craving like crazy. I could literally eat them every day.
When Sammy went to Lincoln with me for the game this fall, Chase’s dad was talking about how he and his friends used to do shots of cinnamon schnapps when their team scored.
How it could get a little crazy during high-scoring games.
And even went on to talk and laugh about some bowl game that was scoreless for so long that they started doing shots for first downs instead.
Sounded like there were some drunk people that night.
Since then, Sammy had been obsessed with the idea, but had yet to try it due to his moratorium on alcohol.
But as soon as our team scored their first touchdown, Sammy filled up a shot glass with Fireball whiskey, yelled out a cheer, then downed it.
The team scored a lot. Damon had three touchdown receptions himself, and Sammy had a fair bit to drink and kept ordering more delivery food—starting with curry and followed by pizza.
And then he threw up.
Which made me throw up.
Which was kind of funny.
He was hungover on Sunday when we watched the playoffs selection show and found out that Nebraska would be playing in Dallas on New Year’s Eve.
I finally got my projects done, which is a huge relief. I wasn’t all that thrilled with the electrical design one, but hopefully, the aesthetic choices that went with it will impress the professor enough.
Now, I’m driving to Kansas City to look at apartments.
I think back to this summer. How I drove on this same road on my way to pick up my parents. How we were going to the Ozarks for the Archibald family reunion and grand reopening of my uncle’s resort.
A lot happened there.
It was the place I learned of my father’s gambling addiction and the real reason why he didn’t get along with his family.
The place where my mom told me that they were getting a divorce.
And the place where I flirted with an adorable guy.
One who I didn’t take too seriously.
Until he sort of rescued me from a run-in with a bush.
And then kissed it to make it better.
I was already falling for him, but when he kissed me for the first time, I knew that I wanted to be with him forever.
A few days later, when we were on a romantic picnic, he told me, I’ll never forget the way you look, what you say, how you kiss me, and how you make me feel. I know we’ve been flirting and kissing, but today feels like one of those moments. The start of something we’ll never forget.
And he was right.
I glance down at my belly. I’ve gained what the doctor says is a healthy amount of weight, and I definitely had to buy maternity jeans, but with a baggy sweatshirt over my bump, people still don’t really notice.
I mean, they would if I wore a tight top, which is very stylish. And while I tell myself that I’m not trying to hide my pregnancy, I kind of am.
But it’s like I can’t really admit it until I tell Damon.
And it’s been so hard.
So many times, I’ve wanted to tell him about the miraculous things that I’ve experienced—from hearing the baby’s heartbeat, to seeing it on the ultrasound, to the first kick and everything in between.
My goal was to let him get through the season before I told him. And he has. But I kind of forgot about post-season play, where the stakes are even higher.
I just can’t wait any longer.
Graduation is tomorrow.
And afterward, I’m going to drive to Lincoln and tell him.
But first, I need to try to find a place to live.
By late afternoon, I’m exhausted and depressed, so I call Sammy.
“Did you find us the perfect place to live?” he practically sings.
“No, I did not. Our budget isn’t going very far.
Most of the places that were within our budget were either old and tired or they were over by the college and that area was busy.
Parking’s a nightmare. I know it’s the end of the semester, but there were parties going on in the middle of the afternoon! ”
“You sound like an old woman,” Sammy says with a laugh. “What about the one that was expensive but doable? Probably. The one with all the amenities?”
“It was nice, but they have different amenity packages that you pay extra a month for. Which would put us into the less doable range. There were a few people working in the clubhouse. They looked very hip.”
“You have a problem with that? I’m hip. I think. I’d fit in perfectly,” he says. “But here’s a question. Does the baby really need its own bedroom? Maybe if we took it down to two bedrooms instead of three—”
When he says that, I start sobbing.
“It’s okay, Ainsley,” Sammy says. “Don’t cry. I’ll get through my finals, and then we’ll look together. Keep in mind, you might even get some money from the baby daddy.”
“He’s not a baby daddy! He’s the father.
And I love him. He wasn’t just some summer fling!
” I yell through my tears. “I got a good job and can take care of my baby without any help. And honestly, once I tell him the truth, he’s probably going to hate me.
I haven’t told you, but I’ve been dreaming over and over about his reaction. And it’s not pretty.”
“In your warped mind, you did it for him.”
“I know. But I realized that taking my dream job instead of moving in with Damon means that I also have to be able to do this all by myself. I’m sure once he gets over being mad, he’ll want to be involved.
But he’ll be at school in Lincoln. And I’ll be in Kansas City.
And I just was sitting here, feeling sorry for myself, and so I scrolled through his social media because I wanted to see his happy face.
And there was a girl who tagged him in a post from a birthday party.
Her name is Annabelle, and he kissed her in the picture. ”
“What?” Sammy asks.
“I know. I didn’t expect to see that. And now I’m a wreck.
I think he’s in love with her. And if he’s in love with her, how can he be in love with me?
How can I trust him?” I sob. “And his sister even commented on the post about how it was true love. TRUE LOVE! I’m supposed to be his true love. His fucking butterfly.”
“Butterfly?” Sammy questions.
“Yes, his butterfly, slut-terfly, shut-the-fuck-up-fly soulmate.”
“Oh, girl, you need to calm down. Just take a deep breath. It will all be okay. You have a lot of—”
“I swear to God almighty, if you utter the word hormone, I will reach through the phone and strangle you. You won’t be able to breathe. Ever again.”
“Um, wow,” Sammy says.
And I start boo-hooing all over again. “How could I ever say something like that to anyone? I am going to be a horrible mother, aren’t I?
I had a dream that I dropped the baby. In a pool.
And an alligator jumped up out of the pool and had my baby in its jaws.
And I woke up just as it was about to clamp down. ”
“Um, Ainsley, sweetheart. I just looked at the photo he was tagged in. It’s from the girl’s fifth birthday party. They were just little kids. Are you really jealous of a five-year-old? I mean, obviously, she’s probably grown up since then.”
“Oh, she has. And she’s gorgeous. And skinny. And I’m just … not.”
“Why don’t you stop looking for places today?”
“I have to. There are no more on the list.”
“We’ll make a new list. Let’s get through graduation and finals, and then we’ll look together. We’ll find something perfect, I promise.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, sweetie, I’m sure.”
“Okay,” I say with a relieved sigh.
“Maybe you should go to your mom’s and spend the night instead of driving back,” Sammy says.
“I suppose I could do that, but I might have to drive through somewhere on the way. I need chocolate. No, hot wings. Ice cream? I don’t even know what to eat, Sammy. What’s wrong with me?”
“You’re growing another human. That’s what. And that takes a lot of energy. I bet your mom has chocolate.”
“You’re right. And strawberry ice cream. That’s her favorite. You’re a lifesaver, Sammy. Bye.”
But as I’m driving, I realize I can’t just walk into my mom’s house pregnant.
So, I call her.
“Hey, Mom,” I say when she answers. “I’m in Kansas City. I drove up to look at apartments today, and I’m tired. Do you think I could spend the night with you? Drive back tomorrow morning?”
“Of course. How did it go? Did you find anything?” she asks, causing me to burst into tears again.
“It was horrible. Everything we can afford has something wrong with it. And I’m sorry, Mom. I’m horrible. I’m on my way there, but I have to tell you something first.”
“What, honey?”
“I’m pregnant.”
“You are?”
“Yes. Anyway, I’m a mess. I’ve been crying. And I pray you have a magic wand to help me find a place and some ice cream.”
“I’ll be waiting with both,” she tells me.
She greets me in the driveway of a beautiful home.
“I can’t believe you haven’t seen the house yet,” she says, giving me a hug. But when she does, my bump crashes into her. “Oh my. You aren’t just pregnant. You’re like—how far along are you?”
“Thirty weeks. I’m due February twenty-second.”
She gets tears in her eyes. “I can’t believe my baby is going to have a baby.
Do you remember when we were in the Ozarks and I told you that my role as your mother is to help you through rough times?
Not judge you. I won’t ever judge you. And I mean it.
And remember, I got pregnant very quickly with you.
Sometimes, love does that. Now, obviously, you’ve known about being pregnant for a while. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I haven’t told the father yet.”
“Oh,” she says, but then she nods like she understands. “Come inside and sit down.”
We enter the home, and normally, I would be looking at the architecture. The design choices. But instead, I plop down on a sofa and let out a pathetic sigh.