AcerT submitted MS to Amazon, (Suggested this title[and I like it]) previously untitled
|“Jonathan?” I could barely hold back the quiver in my voice.
“Michelle, I’m glad you called!” He answered excitedly. “I have been thinking about you all morning. I can’t get last night out of my mind, you are the best lover.”
“Jonathan, we have to talk.” I manage to get out.
“Sounds serious, are you alright?” Jonathan asked, with a genuine concern in his husky voice.
“I’m fine and it is serious.” I held my breath, hoping he would not detect the nervousness. “Meet me at the Shelton Motor Lodge at five, in room 129.”
“Oooh, the motor lodge.” I could tell he was smiling by his up-beat manner.
“See you there?” My hands were shaking, making it more difficult to control my vocal tone.
“You bet, I’ll be there!” He answered.
I take a deep breath as I flip my cell phone shut and head to work. The clock is ticking away time so quickly. I’ll barely have time to freshen up before Jonathan gets to the room. In the shower, I stand agonizing over an easy way to break the news. How can I put it in a way that will cushion the blown? I think to myself.
I ignore the tap on the door. The knock grows louder. I immerse my entire body under the showerhead, desperately wracking my brain in one final search for words that were not there. I hear the door open.
I don’t even know how to bring the subject up. The door closes.
“I’ll be out in a minute.”
He’ll probably leave me when I tell him. I feel my stomach turn as the smell of Franklin’s diner roast beef gravy, that Jonathan brought with him invades my nostrils, nauseating me. If he does, then so be it. I blow dry my hair until it is damp, styling it in the usual fashion, to the back with half of my exceedingly overgrown bangs down the left side of my face. I wrap myself up in the large motel towel, take a deep breath, sighing an exhale and open the door.
Jonathan was lying on his belly at the foot of the meager full size sofa bed, flashing his pearly whites, lifting and dropping his thick dark eyebrows over his deep blue eyes.
“I set out the bed while you were in there,” Jonathan said, throwing a glance behind me toward the bathroom door.
“I see you did.”
Sitting at the head of the bed, I prop myself up on a pillow, and lean on the back of the sofa. Jonathan reaches for my foot and I draw my knees up placing my feet flat on the bed. The white sheets were cool and smooth.
“Oh come on Michelle, you didn’t bring me here to be mad at me.”
On the contrary, I thought.
”Jonathan, there’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to say it. I’m pregnant.”
He grinned and jumped up to his knees before I finished my sentence.
“I have an appointment for an abortion on Thursday.”
I’ve never seen someone’s facial expression change so drastically, so fast.
“Nooo, why Michelle?” His eyes pleading, his voice whining like a child.
“It’s not right to bring an unwanted child into the world, the world has enough of them.”
“What do you mean, unwanted? Are you telling me that you don’t want our child?”
“I’m telling you that the timing isn’t right for either of us. Jonathan, we’ve been seeing each other for what? Maybe four months? We won’t be together forever. I have plans, you are unemployed, you just turned eighteen, and you aren’t even out of high school yet.”
He cut me off, “I have been eighteen for six months, I can get a job, and I will be out of school next month.”
“My point exactly, and then what?” soon you will need your space, you will feel the need to be free, to do what new graduates do, and it is your right to do it. You NEED to do it to grow. Then comes the resentment of child support, another child abandoned by another deadbeat dad leaving another single mother. There is plenty of time for children, but it’s not NOW!”
“That’s not true, everything happens for a reason, and if it’s alive now, then its TIME is now!”
Lowering his voice and looking me square in the eyes, he asked. “Would you; could you see yourself resenting my child?”
“You are eighteen Jonathan and as much as you would like to think it, the world is not ONLY about YOU! I have seen single mothers struggle and fall into depression because they’re not able to make ends meet on their own. The one’s who give up on pursuing their dreams and resorting to the shame of needing public assistance. I don’t want to BE one of them.”
Jonathan buries his face in his elbow and cries like a baby. I stare into the distance of the room, but seeing the future of struggling and dragging along a child, while trying to stick to my plans as best I can. I fall forward onto my hands and knees, my head hangs, my tears splat down on him. I reach out and stroke his back.
“And to answer your question,” I whisper. “No, I can’t see myself resenting our child. It’s you Jonathan; I can’t bear the thought of ever resenting you.