Seventy-Two Hours (6 page)

“That’s not entirely true.”

“Sure it is. For example, you’re the first
to complain when Clinton gets in trouble or if his grades aren’t up to par, but
what have you contributed other than to tell me what needs to be done with him
before you leave for work in the morning or for a business trip or stick your
nose in your computer? How many school APR meetings did you attend this year?
Hmm? I’ll tell you. Zero.”

His jaw clenched and unclenched. “My job has
certainly provided you with the finer things.”

I tossed the book down and placed my hand over
my heart. “I contribute as well, damn it. And I’m
still
around. I’m
around for
everything
.
All the time
. I’m married and yet it’s
like being a single parent. I can’t even accuse you of only being home for the
fun stuff. You missed Carson’s baccalaureate. You walked away to take a phone
call during his commencement ceremony. You’ve promised Hudson a guy’s weekend
since he came home from school. It’s July already. Put it off much longer and
he’ll be leaving for fall semester.”

He started to speak, hesitated, and then
finally said, “It’s been unavoidable. I have certain obligations and I’m under
an enormous amount of pressure.”

“I may not be splitting the damn atom at
school, but I, too, have obligations and pressures,” I handed back angrily.
“You try teaching, on average, 120 students a year in this day and age of budget
cuts. Outdated textbooks. Overcrowded classrooms. Students that don’t care.
Parents that don’t care. Try teaching a subject that gets neglected by the
administration because it’s not part of the standardized testing system. My
job is not easy. Being a parent is not easy. It’s about juggling, Chris, and
when you’re married and there’s still no one to help you it’s frustrating as
hell.”

“Frustrating enough to go and fuck someone
else?” He looked sorry for his comment as soon as it slipped out.

“And, thank you. Thank you. You’ve managed
to prove my point. We can’t go back to marriage as usual. Not after what I’ve
done,” I said candidly. “Just for curiosity purposes, do you feel better now
that you were finally able to throw that in my face?”

He smiled coldly. “I think I deserve some
anger, don’t you, Jen? It isn’t everyday a guy gets to hear how much his wife
enjoyed banging another man,” he retorted with a dangerous look in his eye.
“Not once, not twice, but three times.”

“That’s not how I said it!”

Ignoring my remark he said, “I love the fact
that another man has carnal knowledge of my wife. Maybe Stevie Boy and I will
have something to talk about at the next alumni banquet.” Chris was on a
roll. “I could tell him which position brings on the fastest results. How’s
that sound to you? I’d be doing you a favor. Him, too. Or maybe I could just
make crib notes for him, if you’d prefer?”

I stood up wounded and devastated. Probably
completely deserving of his rant. Only I didn’t have to stay and listen to
it. I started for the front door and stopped to say, “I know I’ve hurt you and
what I did was wrong, but you don’t have to be so mean, so vulgar about it.”

“You’re right—“

I cut him off, “No, don’t apologize for saying
what you really feel. I should have spoken up months ago and maybe we wouldn’t
be here and having this discussion.”

I closed the door on the apology he was
making. Nausea was rearing its ugly head as my body dealt with the stress. I
didn’t know how much more I could take. Forty-eight hours. The very thought
made me shudder.

January 31, 1991 - Elmira, New York

“
How
did this happen?” Chris asked rather incredulously while both of his hands
clenched the steering wheel of his Honda Accord.

I shook my head and replied, “I don’t know.
We’ve been so careful.”

“Apparently not careful enough.”

The unthinkable happened sometime over winter
break while we were home together. I was pregnant. Not by much. A few
weeks. I was late nevertheless. I couldn’t seem to wrap my mind around it.
Chris and I were expecting a baby. It didn’t seem real. I told myself it was
a bad dream and I would wake up at any moment basking in relief. Only I wasn’t
sleeping and it wasn’t a dream.

“How far along do you think you are?”

“Four weeks. Maybe five. I’m not sure.”

We had this life changing discussion while
sitting in the parking lot of Fay’s Drugs. Chris returned moments prior from
purchasing a pregnancy test. Actually two pregnancy tests. Just to make
certain. I’d take them first thing the following morning. Nothing like having
to sneak something like that into the house and behind my parents’ backs. I
couldn’t tell them. At least not until we knew for certain and Chris and I had
time to figure things out. I wasn’t sure how they’d react. Even though my mom
had hinted during our conversations about Chris and I having a sexual
relationship, it was never anything I’d confirmed or encouraged additional chit-chat
about. God. Not with her. It was too embarrassing. And, well, the thought
of my parents doing it? Even worse. What if she brought that up? I’d be in
counseling.

On Saturday morning, I waited in my room for
Chris to arrive. I had so much nervous energy I began rearranging the
furniture in my bedroom. Aerosmith’s
Get a Grip
cassette played loudly
in the background on my boom box.

Both tests were irrefutably positive.
Positive. A word I’d always associated with describing something in a
favorable manner. No matter how hard I tried to find the good in my current
predicament, I drew a blank trying to find my silver lining. Being pregnant
was bad. Very bad. The timing couldn’t have been worse. Chris was attending
graduate school at RIT and I would be graduating from Mansfield University in
four months. My plan was to attend Elmira College in September and begin my
Master’s program. Obviously, a baby would change everything.

Chris arrived to find me wedging my body
between the wall and my double bed as I tried to slide it across the carpeted
floor. “What are you doing?”

I ran to him and practically knocked him
over. Greeting him with a rush of rambling words and sobbing. Basically,
everything I said incomprehensible. He hugged me to him. Stroking my hair. Rubbing
my back. Trying to calm me by reminding me that my mother was downstairs and
would hear the commotion if I didn’t settle down. I focused on what he said
and forced myself to regain my control.

“I didn’t understand a word of what you just
said, but I’m going to go out on a limb here,” he gently teased while holding
me. “You’re definitely pregnant.”

“What am I going to do, Chris?” I asked as I
pulled away from him.

His orange and black RIT hooded sweatshirt
stained where I’d blubbered all over him. Chris looked well composed as he
guided me to sit on the bed with him. He took my hand and told me, “You don’t
have to do any of this alone. We’re in this together, Jenny. Everything will
be fine.”

“How can you say that?” my voice went
shrill. “It isn’t fine! I’m not ready for this!”

He shushed me. “We’ve talked about having
children before,” he soothed.

“Yea, like 90 years from now! I have two
more years of school. You have one more.”

“I have one semester to go. Remember? I’ve
been carrying extra credits.”

I stared at him and retorted, “Well, how
wonderful for you. At least you’ll be able to go to school.”

“You’re pregnant not a typhoid carrier,” he
joked. “You can finish your undergrad this spring, take some courses this
summer, and then have a semester off. By January, you’ll be able to go back to
school full-time status.”

“With a
baby
?”

“Christ, Jenny, what are you saying? You’re
acting like you’ve already made up your mind.”

I thought about what he said and then
answered, “I guess I have.”

“Were you, at any point, going to take my
feelings into consideration?”

“You say we’re in this together, but let’s
face it, I’m the one that’s pregnant. I’m the one that’s going to have to
sacrifice the most.”

“We’ll get married and we’ll move to Rochester.
You can go to school there,” he ticked off in an attempt to sway me.

“Chris, geography isn’t going to make it any easier.
I’ll still be pregnant and putting my college education on hold. What if I
never go back to school? This is a major, life changing situation.”

“I agree its life changing and I think you’re
being selfish.”

I felt all the breath rush out of me.
“What?”

“Every point you’ve made has the word I, me,
or my in it. What about how I feel? That’s my baby, too.”

I’d try to appeal to his rational side. “Wouldn’t
you rather do this after we’re both settled in our careers? Think about it.
Being a parent is a full-time job and not a class you can drop because you
don’t like it.”

“Jenny, I love you. I’ve loved you from the
moment we started dating. I knew we were going to be together. We don’t talk
about
if
we get married. We talk about
when
we get married. We
talk about how we’re going to raise our kids,” he reasoned. “This isn’t the
end of the world. Yes, things are happening out of order, but we can do this.”

I was torn. Each of his remarks hitting
home. “I don’t know…”

He took both of my hands. “Sure you do. You
know what the right thing to do is. Yes, I was shocked yesterday when you told
me, but I had all night to think about it and get used to it. The fact that
you’re carrying my child makes me so very happy and I really, truly want this,
Jen. For both of us.”

“It’s going to be so hard.”

“Our love has created this new life. To do
anything else with this special gift would only bring us regret in the future.
I know it and so do you,” he stated with conviction. “We can do this.”

I smiled with a quivering lip. “You have to
promise me now that you’ll help me, Chris,” I told him as he nodded his head
and his face took on a huge smile. “Let me finish,” I scolded. “You have to
keep me motivated so I can finish school. I mean it.”

“I promise,” he said before grabbing me up
into a bone-crushing hug and kissing me so deeply I momentarily forgot about
how we’d gotten into such a serious discussion.

That afternoon, we got our parents together.
I could tell by my mother’s behavior she was waiting to hear that we were
engaged. Something that had been expected for a while. On any given occasion,
our moms discussed plans for our “future wedding” like they were discussing
something as commonplace as the weather.

So as soon as my mother finished serving
coffee and crumb cake to Conrad and Marti, Chris began with, “Jenny and I have
some news to share with you and that’s why we asked to have you together at the
same time.”

Conrad and Marti exchanged knowing glances.
As did my parents.

“Go on, son,” my father encouraged.

“We’re having a baby.”

I literally watched the color drain from my
father’s face as his smile melted into a frown and he trained his eyes on Chris
like the sites of a rifle.

My mom was the first to recover.
“That’s…that’s wonderful news.”

Marti sat forward and placed her coffee cup
down. “Was this planned?”

“Of course, it wasn’t,” my father snapped
losing his normal good natured manners.

“Daddy, I’m 21 years old. Chris and I have
friends that have been married for a few years and have kids already. You
remember Lisa? She has two.”

“I’ve asked Jenny to marry me.”

“What about school?” he asked.

“Sir,” Chris said as he approached my father
exuding respect and maybe a little fear. “We haven’t forgotten about school.
I carried extra courses while maintaining a 4.0 GPA and I’ll be finished with
my Master’s in December. Jenny graduates in May.”

“With all due respect, Christopher, I was
referring to Jennifer’s graduate schooling. You’ll be fine. You’ll have your education
completed. She’s the one that
still
has two years left. If she takes
time off now, she’ll never go back. She’ll be the one tied down with a kid at
home.” he stated rather brusquely which pretty much ruined his attempt at
polite with his “all due respect” line.

“What would you have them do, Donald?” my
mother stepped in.

“Exactly what I’m wondering,” Marti
inserted.

“They’re adults, Don,” Mom continued after
giving Marti a hand motion to give her a moment with my dad. “They’ve already
made up their minds. And above all else, it really isn’t our decision to make,
is it?”

“I understand your concerns. I give you my
word, as I stand here before you, Jenny will finish school. I’ll make certain
it happens, sir. I want the best for her and I can give it to her.”

“Thank you, Christopher,” my mom told him
with a smile. “Your word means a lot to us. We know Jenny’s wellbeing is
your main concern.”