Tough Love (17 page)

I took a deep breath and a step forward before tapping him on the shoulder. He turned around, the shock written all over his face; our plan had worked.

“What are you doing here?” he asked while reaching out for a hug.

“I came in early to surprise you,” I replied with a smile.

He looked over to Mom, who explained everything while Brendan and I stood in an embrace.

“And even though it was part of the façade, you’re welcome to come have dinner with us,” she said.

“Of course, yeah!” His brown eyes were sparkling.

We climbed in the back seat together, and I laid my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes. His familiar scent of cigarettes, Zippo lighter fluid and Grandma’s iced tea filled my nose, and I inhaled it, not wanting to ever forget how he smelled.

“Do you like your surprise?” I whispered without lifting my head.

“I do, very much,” he whispered back.

The weekend went by much too quickly, and it was Sunday afternoon before I knew it. There were only twenty-four hours left before I had to get back to school, and I wanted to spend as much time with Brendan as possible. We decided to take advantage of the crisp but sunny fall day and walk to the same playground where we’d shared our first kiss.

“I just want you to know that I still plan to carry out my idea,” I told him as he pushed me on the swing.

“Your idea?”

“Yeah, about me transferring schools at Christmas time, remember? I’m still planning to do that.”

“Oh, that’s right. I kind of forgot about that,” he confessed.

I dragged my feet along the ground to stop myself, angry at his words. “What do you mean you forgot about it? Don’t you think that’s a big deal?”

He squatted in front of me so that we were eye-to-eye. “Baby, don’t be upset. Of course I think it is a big deal. I know that you’ve always wanted to go to Anderson.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me up out of the seat. “It’s just that I’ve been thinking of getting a job and trying to move out of Mom and Dad’s. There’s been other stuff on my mind, that’s all.” He dropped his brown eyes and looked at me through his bottom lashes. “Do you forgive me?”

I didn’t want to; I wanted to stay angry with him, but I couldn’t. That piece of me that always had faith refused to die yet again. I felt myself believing his words were true. That he was going to work at finding a job so that we could be a proper couple, like others that I’d always read about. I hoped I wasn’t making a huge mistake.

“Yes.”

It wasn’t just that I did not want to leave Brendan; it was more than that. Even getting back into the swing of things once I went back to college was harder. I found myself thinking about him all the time. It didn’t matter if I were in class, trying to study or eating with friends; he was all I could think about.

Most days, I would go back to my room after class and turn on Mariah Carey’s
Just to Hold you Once Again
, alternating between tears of happy memories and the pain of being apart. The confusion that enveloped me was astounding. I loved him, I was certain, yet the clouds of doubt were always there. My head and heart were in a constant, exhaustive battle between what I wanted and what I knew was best.

My roommate tried to be patient with me, but I knew I was making her life difficult. I moped around our room, and I wasn’t a very good friend to her. My relationship with Brendan affected every part of my life.

Still, I had to focus on school. The semester was quickly coming to a close, and I had exams to think about. Regardless of whether I was going back to Anderson, the need to be a good student and try my best at academia urged me forward. I charged headlong into finals week.

The night before Donny and I were set to head home for our month-long Christmas break, Mom called. I could tell immediately that it was not going to be a typical “make sure you don’t forget anything” phone call. Her tone was different.

“Honey, something is really wrong here, and I wanted you to be prepared when you get home.”

I reminded myself to keep breathing as my mom told me about a phone call she’d received. It was from a lady named Damia, and she was claiming to be pregnant with Brendan’s baby.

“Well, that answers my first question,” I quipped. “I just wanted to make sure it was a female.”

On the drive the next day, I sat in silence as the miles passed. Finally Donny cleared his throat and asked, “What are you thinking?”

“Do you know any details?” I asked.

“Not really, just her name.”

I fell into silence again.

Donny and I pulled into our parent’s driveway in Toledo a few hours later. Without helping to unload the bags, I went to the front door. It was all I could do to just hang my head and cry in my mother’s arms. I had so many questions, but I was too exhausted to think right then. On the drive home, I had swung from one thought to the next, my emotions running wild. I would find myself angry one moment and on the verge of tears the next. I had come to one realization, though: I wanted to talk to Damia.

I pulled away from my mom’s shoulder. I could see my own hurt in reflected in her eyes as they locked with mine. She placed her hands on either side of my face.

“How are you holding up?” she asked.

The tears continued as I shook my head. “I don’t know. I’m so confused. I would like to talk with her, though.”

Mom used her thumb to wipe a tear from my cheek. “She’s supposed to be calling soon. If you decide that you want to talk in person, I’ll drive you over.”

When the phone rang, we all knew who it was. The tension in the air was heavy as my family waited for me to get off the phone. Damia and I decided that we would meet face-to-face so we could talk things out. I was prepared to leave with my mom right away, but the phone rang again immediately after I hung it up.

It was Brendan.

“Baby! You’re home!”

I did not have the energy to speak with him. I was worn out from the trip and mentally spent from all the thinking and crying I’d done in the previous twenty-four hours. I tried to pull some energy from his excitement, but I was so upset with him, it didn’t work.

“Yeah, we just got here about ten minutes ago. How are you?” I asked him.

“I’m good; even better now that I know I can see your beautiful face. Can I come over?”

That was all it took. My anger, usually so under control, bubbled over until I spouted, “You know what? Just stop! Quit calling me baby, and quit telling me I’m beautiful. I’ve had it!”

“But, baby—“

“Just stop, Brendan! I’m about to leave the house, and do you know why? Because I’m going to meet Damia! So what do you think about that?”

There was total silence on the other end of the phone. He was quiet enough, in fact, that for a few moments I thought he’d hung up. Then I heard him sigh.

Other than that, he didn’t respond. I took a few seconds to compose myself before starting again, much more calm this time.

“I’m sure it surprises you that I even know about her, doesn’t it?”

“I am a bit shocked,” he confessed. “How…?”

“She called my mom. Told her everything, apparently.”

“Great, that’s just great.” He was the angry one now. “And you want to meet her?”

“Yes, I do. Don’t you feel that I have the right, Brendan? To meet the woman who is going to tear us apart?”

He sighed again before making a request. “I want to come. If you’re going to meet her in person, I would like to be there. I think
I
have that right. Besides, I’m not sure we can trust her.”

Trust. It seemed like such a foreign concept to me.

“Imagine that, someone we can’t trust.” Sarcasm dripped from my words. “All right, then. I’ll wait for you to get here.”

I hung up and turned to my mother. “You don’t need to drive me over. Brendan is picking me up.”

Mom frowned. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Do you think she’ll tell you the truth? Do you think Brendan will be honest?”

I sighed. “I’ll be fine, Mom.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive over, too?” she persisted.

“No, thanks. I’m sorry you had to get involved in this, but we can handle it.”

To say Damia was not what I expected was an understatement. She was just as overweight as I was, but a couple of inches taller, with wildly curly hair. In the darkness of the post-sunset winter’s night, I couldn’t tell if it was red or brown.

“Hi, Damia. It’s nice to meet you,” I said, extending my hand right to shake hers.

“You, too,” she replied before she turned to look at Brendan. “Hey.” She spoke with no inflection in her voice.

“What’s up?” His response to her was even more flat.

She rubbed her stomach, obviously wanting the conversation to turn toward the pregnancy.

“Oh you know, not much.” The sneer on her lips was directed completely at Brendan, and I got the first inclination that she was, indeed, trying to pin something on him that might not be true.

I cleared my throat and she looked back at me, the smirk fading a bit.

“So how is the pregnancy going?” I asked.

“It’s going well. I’m only about four months along, which is why you can’t even tell I’m pregnant.”

I did some quick math in my head. If she’d been pregnant for about four months, they would have had sex back in August. Maybe even right after I’d left for college. Or, with Brendan’s track record, probably even before. It would have been so easy for me to allow my emotions to take over right then. For now, though, I had to keep my cool. There was too much at stake to lose it in front of these two.

“I see,” I nodded. “And I just have to ask, how many times did you sleep with my boyfriend exactly?”

“Hm, let’s see.” She again turned toward Brendan. “How many times would you say it was?”

Brendan did not say a word. He just glared at her with more hatred than I’d ever seen him convey.

With a nervous little giggle, Damia tossed back her crazy hair. “Well you know, it only takes once.”

I’ve never been one for violence, but she was really starting to push her luck. I tightened my grip on Brendan’s hand and kept a smile on my face. “You’re right, it does.”

“I need to get home. It’s been a very long day for me, as I’m sure you can imagine,” I explained.

“I sure can. I mean, to have all this sprung on you right before Christmas,” she sighed with so much sugar-coating, I almost gagged.

“Yes, well, we’ll be in touch won’t we, babe?” I said to Brendan.

“Yep.”

“Oh, okay then, good night,” she said as we headed down the steps to the car.

Although I was angry, I was also quite serene about the whole thing. The contrast of what we were talking about and the composure I kept did not escape my consciousness. I should have felt more ill at ease asking those questions but I hadn’t. Perhaps Brendan’s adamant denial of ever having had sex with Damia was the cause.

“Are you okay?” Brendan asked me during the short ride back to my place.

“Yeah, I’m okay. I have a lot to think about, but I’m okay.”

He reached for my hand on the seat. “I promise, baby, I never slept with her.”

My scoff was a bit more audible than I wanted it to be.

“I guess I deserve that,” Brendan said. When I didn’t say anything, he decided to try again. “Okay, do you want the truth?”

“Of course, I want the truth! Why wouldn’t I want to hear the truth?” I snatched my hand back from his grasp and folded my arms across my chest.

“We fooled around. I can’t deny that, but I did not have sex with her. I swear it.”

We were in front of my house now, and Brendan slid his car into park. He turned to look at me without shutting off the engine, his face glowing in the dashboard lights.

“Baby, look at me.”

I turned my head a fraction so that I was facing his direction but could not fully see his eyes.

He spoke slowly, emphasizing every word. “I
did not
have sex with her. There is no baby, there is no relationship.”

“I hear you, Brendan, I do. But believing you is another story. I need to sleep on it, at the very least, okay?”

I could see his head droop in the dim lights. “Yeah, okay,” he muttered. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“At some point tomorrow, yes. But don’t call me; I’ll call you. Fair?”

“Yes, that’s more than fair,” he agreed. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you, too. Good night.”

I left his car without a good night kiss.

It was hard to walk up the steps and into the house without turning around, yet I stood my ground and kept my eyes straight ahead. Walking into the living room, I found my mom sitting alone. I was instantly grateful for my family, for brothers and a dad who realized I would need time and for a mother who was always there. I did not deserve them. Their patience with me over the past six months had been overwhelming. And yet, here I was contemplating how to make it work with Brendan rather than how to let him go.

I sat with Mom on the couch and laid my head on her lap. She reached up and stroked my hair, as silent tears fell, leaving dark navy dots against the indigo denim.

“Shh,” she whispered. “Just sleep. We will talk about it tomorrow.”