Hope for Her (Hope #1) (20 page)

When my tears subsided, Jackson held me at arm’s length, and I missed his arms around me.

"You okay?"

"No, not really."

"You need to talk to Josh, but not tonight. Let me take you home."

We headed out the back door of the frat house. I wanted Jackson to put his arms around me. Shield me from the cold as well as the pain and heartbreak I felt nagging at the center of my heart. He walked next to me with his hands in his pocket. Our arms brushed against each other, and even that minor contact woke my senses. I could smell him, feel him, and imagine what he tasted like.

Stop it, Carrington.

"Is that why he got kicked out of U of F? Because of his drinking?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"What happened?"

"I don’t know the whole story, but he got drunk at a party and got in a fight with a couple of students including the president’s son. He got arrested, but they worked that out."

"His father."

"Yeah."

"Does this have to do with his mother?"

"Yes and no. I mean, he started drinking in high school, but it was before his mother died."

"His mom was an alcoholic."

"I guess he did what he saw. I think he wants to get better. Especially since meeting you. Carrington, he loves you so much."

I stopped in the middle of the path. Jackson turned back.

"That's so unfair."

"What?"

"To put that on me."

"I didn't mean it like that. I meant ..." Jackson rubbed his forehead.

I grabbed his arm.

"What is it? Do you feel guilty for not being there for him before. You looked after him in high school and he told me how you guys grew apart because you were into football and even though you want to take care of him now, you can't so you’re passing him off on me in some big sacrificial move. Jackson, that's not fair. It's not my job to save Josh." Jackson looked away. I reached up and grabbed his chin and made him look at me. Tears formed at the corner of his eyes. “It's not your job to save him, either."

Chapter Twenty-Five

Joshua Elijah Griffin, IV

I woke up with my second hangover in two weeks. I remembered the first drink, but not the last. I ended up in my own bed with no bruised or broken bones, so a good night.

I checked my phone and saw a text message from Carrington. It was the first time I realized she never showed up last night.

Carrington:  Meet me in the student union at 10:00 am.

I rolled over and checked the clock; it read nine thirty am. I showered, got dressed, and made my way to the student union with a minute to spare. Carrington sat inside by the window. I watched her as I approached.

She played with her hair, twisting it around her finger as she read something on her laptop. Her full cheeks and smooth skin appeared brighter, her posture relaxed and calm. She found me staring at her and her body stiffened. Her face showed all sorts of concern, and I fought the urge to run away.

I entered the student union and pointed to the coffee shop and mouthed if she wanted something.

She shook her head and went back to studying her laptop.

I got a large coffee and approached her table.

She closed the laptop as I got close.

I leaned over, and her body straightened when my lips touched her cheek.

"Hey baby." I sat across from her.

"Hi."

I took a sip of my coffee. "I missed you last night. What happen?"

"I was really tired. How was the party?"

"It was good. We had fun." I took another sip and watched her fidget. "Are you okay? You seem kind of tired a lot lately."

"Yeah, well, that's why I asked you to meet me here. I wanted to talk to you about that."

"Are you sick?"

"No, I think I'm pregnant."

I heard what she said when she said it, but I think my brain took longer to process it. Everything started moving in slow motion, and I heard the sound of my heart beating in my ears. Along with my fathers voice calling Carrington a gold digger. I took in a deep breath and let it out in one long stream of air. I sounded like a freight train.

When I returned to reality, Carrington was staring at me. Waiting for me to say something.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"No, I want to go to student health and get a test."

"Okay."

"And I want you to go with me," she said, her cadence slowed as if speaking to a child.

"Oh yeah, of course." I sipped my coffee.

"To avoid any of those weird what is she going to do conversations, I want to let you know that I don’t expect anything from you, but I’m going to have it and keep it."

"Really?"

"Yeah, you sound surprised."

"No, not surprised, but you don't even know for sure. Why don't we wait to make decisions until we find out?"

"Okay, but if I'm pregnant, I'm having the baby."

She gathered her laptop and stood up. She stared down at me, scolding me for doing this to her. I kept my mouth shut and followed her to the student health center.

As we walked across campus, my brain worked overtime. I thought up each scenario of how she wanted me to react once we found out for sure. I imagined blowing up and getting angry. Being supportive and excited, but it seemed contrived. Part of me liked the idea of being a father. Don't get me wrong; the idea of a tiny, helpless little thing depending on me to guide him through life scared the hell out of me.

Shit, no pressure.

And when I thought about my father, it became a bad idea all over again.

We entered the student health center, a four-story red brick building. I breathed a sigh of relief when we entered the empty waiting room. It wouldn't take a psychic to figure out the reason for our visit. Although, the bags under my eyes from my hangover and her puffy face, maybe they would think we contracted malaria over winter break.

Carrington signed in, and we sat and waited for the nurse to call us back.

"Carrington Butler," the nurse, standing at the door said.

Carrington got up and headed back. She turned to me. "Are you coming?"

"Oh, yeah, if you want," I said. I knew my passivity bothered her, but I needed her to tell me what she needed.

Carrington came out of the bathroom after peeing in a cup, and the nurse escorted us to an exam room.

As we waited for the doctor, I studied a poster on the wall.

"What are you thinking?" Carrington asked.

"I'm thinking how gross the insides of people are."

Mature answer, I know.

"Josh."

"Carrington, I'm sorry. I don't know what to say. I don't know what you want me to say or do."

"I want you to tell me how you feel about this."

"About what, we don't even know for sure."

She opened her mouth to say something else, but the doctor walked in and she shut up.

"So, Carrington, you are pregnant. I'm going to take some blood and examine you in a minute, but do you know the date of your last period."

"I think it was October second, but my periods are always been irregular."

"Do you have an idea when this happened?"

"Yeah. October sixteenth."

"You know the exact date?" the doctor asked.

"Well, it's the only time we didn't use protection." Carrington spoke to the doctor, but I heard the blame in her voice; October sixteenth, our first time together. We experienced insanely hot sex on the side of a country road, and it produced a baby. I started laughing.

Both Carrington and the doctor stared.

"What's so funny?" Carrington asked, her patience with me wearing thin.

I reached out and took her hand. I kissed it. "I was thinking how inappropriate it would be for us to tell our child where he was conceived." I winked at her and smiled, and she smiled back and blushed and the thought of having a kid didn't seem so scary anymore.

We left the student health center armed with pamphlets on pregnancy and baby care. The doctor snuck one in about the perils of unprotected sex.

A little late for that one.

When the doctor confirmed and said the words,
you are pregnant
; I experienced a moment of clarity. My behavior seemed silly and immature. Having a kid made me feel like a man. I realized how my actions not only affected me, but Carrington and the baby, too.

We grabbed food and locked ourselves in my room for the rest of the day and night. I wanted an uninterrupted opportunity to talk to Carrington about my past and our future. I wanted to make sure she understood the demons I battled, and continued to battle, as recent as last night.

"I need to talk to you about everything," I started. "I'm a recovering addict. I've been drinking since I was fifteen and thought I had it handled, but when I went to Florida, I got involved with drugs. Before I came to FSU, I spent three months in rehab."

I started and stopped the conversation several times before I got in a rhythm.

"Is that why you got kicked out of Florida?" she asked.

"Yeah. The moment I decided to go to Florida, my father stopped talking to me. And I know you think it's silly with the whole school rivalry thing but going to Florida was more than that. It was like the ultimate ‘fuck you’ to my dad, and he couldn't stand it. So, he stopped talking to me, and he cut me off from the family. What he didn't do was cut me off financially. He couldn't. My mother had set up my trust in a way that it couldn’t be arbitrarily revoked by my dad.

"So, I found myself for the first time in my life alone. And not to use it as an excuse, but it was the worst feeling in the world to know you had a family, but to also know that they didn't want anything to do with you. I would reach out to my dad a couple of times a month, but he refused to take my calls, and my sisters refused to help. One night my roommate invited me to a party and that’s where I met Cade, a spoiled rich kid from Georgia, and we started using together. By winter break I was using every day and dropped out of school.

"Back in March, I went to a party with some guys and we were high before we even arrived. I don't remember any of this; I blacked out a lot, but I started mouthing off to some guys. I thought my crew had my back, but they bailed on me and left me to fight these five guys. They beat me up pretty bad, and someone took me to the hospital. In the hospital, they fixed me up and let me go, and I headed straight home, got a gun and went back to the house where they held the party. This was like four or five days later, but in my brain I thought it was all the same night.

"I ended up opening fire into the house and one of the bullets hit a guy in the leg. After I had emptied the gun, I took off and somehow drove back home to Orlando. I went into my room and took a bottle of pills and waited to die.

"The next thing I remember, I woke up in a hospital room. I couldn't move, and I was so cold. My father was sitting in a chair next to me holding my hand. I couldn't speak, and my eyes were swollen shut. I fell back asleep and faded in and out for days after that, but each time that I woke up, my dad was sitting there.

"I remember thinking I must be dying because that was the only way my father would be sitting here, praying for me to get better. I also wondered why my sisters weren't there. Eventually, I asked my dad what happen. He said he took care of it. When I pressed him on details, he just said ‘Son, I took care of it.’

"I left the hospital and went straight to rehab. I had gotten out a week before school started."

"So, what happen to the guy you shot?" Carrington asked.

"I asked, but he refused to tell me. I called around to ask some people I knew in Gainesville who where still speak to me, and they filled me in on the rest. The kid I shot recovered fine and came into some money recently. The University of Florida wiped my name from the books, and no police report exists. It's like I’d never even been there.

"Ever since it happened, I felt like I owed it to my dad to fall in line. Be the son he expects. I don't know why, but that doesn't seem so important anymore."

"Josh, I don't want to come between you and your family."

"I know and you’re not. This isn't about you. I need to grow the hell up and stop using my past as an excuse."

The truth poured out. It crossed my mind, after my confession, that she may not want me as the father of our child, but I needed to take the risk.

"I have something else I need to tell you. I used one night, over winter break. That's why I couldn't come to Dallas to see you. I needed a few days to get my head straight."

"What happened?" Carrington asked.

"I blacked out. I got in a fight and woke up with a busted eye."

"Oh my God."

"I got in a fight with Jackson."

"Jackson? Why?"

"I was wrong, but I accused him of going after you. He told me how lucky I was to have found you and how I needed to get my act together, or I was going to lose you. He said you were the best thing that could have happened to me. He is right. You are the best thing in my life, and I am going to do whatever is necessary to take care of you and the baby and make you happy." 

My confession to Carrington went over better than I thought.

#

Since our initial shock of being parents wore off, I started warming to the idea of being a father. As long as I took every lesson my father taught me and did the opposite, my kid had a good chance of turning out okay. Carrington and I made a joke out of it.

Carrington said she understood, but I needed to prove myself. We were connected for life, and I wanted her to know, she and the baby could rely on me.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Joshua Elijah Griffin, IV

Things were going well.

Until a couple of month later, I exited the administration building, heading to the student union to meet Carrington, when someone called my name.

"Joshua."

I stopped dead in my tracks. My father’s voice boomed and bounced off the columns of the covered walkway.