CONVICTION (INTERFERENCE) (21 page)

I looked up at my mother and tried to speak…but no words would come. Once again, she made me drink something and I fell asleep. I’m sure it must have been the Ambien her doctor gave her when my grandmother died, and I almost fought her, but as I looked into the glass of juice, sleep seemed like welcome relief and I downed it in one gulp.

When I woke up the next day and reality hit once again, I asked for another glass of juice. My father shook his head no, but my mother finally gave in, knowing I needed more time to deal with my grief.

I had slept through five days and finally my mother was out of Ambien and my father was out of patience.

“She’s not ready to deal with this yet, Bradley.”

“She has no choice. She’s going to have to face it and move on. It’s not the end of the world. I won’t see my daughter throw her life away because of that son of a…”

“DAD!” I yelled, fully awake for the first time in days. “Don’t…please!”

“Honey, you’re awake. Good, come have some breakfast.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You have to eat.”

“No, I need to know what happened. Like you said, I’m awake now…I need to know.” There were tears ready to spring forth, but I wiped my eyes and sat down at the table next to them. I was still holding the letter from Shane. I had been holding it since the moment my mother gave it to me, refusing to let go.

“We told you what happened. You just weren’t ready to hear it. We’re so
sorry, Honey. We were as surprised as you.”

“No. No one was as surprised as me. I still don’t believe…” the tears sprang forth, leaving me sobbing, desperate for Shane once again.

“She needs to see it!” my father said.

“Bradley!”

“See wh-what?” I asked.

“Nothing, Honey. You really need to eat.”

“SEE WHAT?” I yelled.

My father walked out of the room for a minute and returned a moment later with a piece of paper in his hands.

He sat down beside me and slid the piece of paper in front of me. 

“What is this?” I asked.

“It’s from the bank. He cashed the check.”

“No, you’re lying. He wouldn’t…he wouldn’t do that!” I could see the date of withdrawal and the amount, but I still didn’t believe Shane would do that.

He pulled another piece of paper out of his pocket and set it in front of me.  It was a check made out to Shane Ramsey in the amount of $100,000.00.

“This doesn’t prove anything,” I said.

He turned the check over and on the back…was Shane’s signature. I looked up at my mom, pleading with her to tell me it wasn’t true, but she only nodded her head slowly, confirming my worst nightmare.

I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak, I finally dropped the letter and I ran upstairs to my bed, where I stayed for two more weeks.

My parents allowed me the solace, the time to grieve, but it ended after two weeks. I wasn’t allowed to sit in my room anymore. I was forced to re-join the family, eat, shower, and pretend that I was okay. I moved through the days, playing along, but not feeling. It was the nights when the feelings came…and I cried. I cried every night for weeks until I was dry…dead inside. I had lost him and it took me that long to realize it. The moment I faced it…was the moment I died. I went along without complaint, doing what was expected, what I was told, never mentioning…him…again. I pretended he didn’t exist. It never happened. I never went to that mall on that fateful day…never met him. Every day I lied to myself and everyone else…but at night, he was so real. I could feel him touch me, could smell him and feel his breath on my neck, hear him tell me he loved me. THAT was real, and even though during the day, he didn’t exist, at night, he was still very much alive. I’d scold myself for allowing me to think of him, want him…love him. But, every night, I’d climb into my cold bed and pray he’d come up those forbidden stairs…for me…

Jillian started coming over once in a while. I was annoyed at first. She brought back memories of him, and every time I saw her…I felt him. My mother seemed to think I needed friends though, and it was either that, or I had to go back to school and make new friends. It turns out, if you don’t go to class, don’t do the homework, or study and take the tests…they don’t let you pass.
Imagine that
. I didn’t have to drop my classes, my absence took care of it for me. My mother fixed it so that they were withdrawals and not fails, but I didn’t care one way or the other. Classes meant nothing to me…not without him.

So, I started doing things with Jillian again, in order to save myself from having to face school alone. I also noticed Parker around…a lot more. He was kind, offering me words of comfort. This, I found strange, but I was still too heartbroken to even care that he was there, so I just let him work his way back into our lives one day at a time. 

A Constant Reminder

I was sick, and I’d lost weight. My mom started to worry about more than just my emotional health and scheduled me to see Dr. Emory. I was supposed to see a movie with Jillian after my appointment, but I wasn’t interested in a movie. I wasn’t interested in anything. I went to the doctor because she told me too. And I agreed to go to the movie because she told me to, but that all changed when I heard two simple words….

“You’re pregnant.”

I looked up at Dr. Emory with the same glazed look I’d had since I realized he was gone. “What?” I asked, with no emotion, certain I hadn’t heard her right.

“I said, you’re pregnant, Rebecca. Are you okay? I know you weren’t expecting this.”

“No, that’s not…no. No!”

“Um, yes, you are. Do you want to talk about your options?” she said, sitting down next to me.

“Options?” I asked.

“Yes.
You have options. You can keep the baby, of course. But, if you’re not ready for that, there’s always adoption…or ab...”

“NO! Don’t say it!” I snapped out of my stupor quickly and looked down at my still-flat stomach. “You’re sure?” I asked.

“Yes, they ran tests off of both your urine and blood. I’m positive.” She patted me on the shoulder. “I know you need some time. But, since you can’t give me accurate dates of your last period…”

“I had a shot. You gave me a shot…two of them.”

“Yes, and you were due for your third over three months ago.”

“Oh, I was…busy. I forgot, I guess.”

“Well, have you been having regular intercourse…”

My eyes started to tear. “No, not since…”

“What about within the last three months?” she asked.

“I don’t…know. I um…I have to go.”

“I need to schedule you for an ultrasound. And I have a bunch of paperwork for you.”

“I have to go…” I repeated, buttoning the last button on my blouse and grabbing my purse.

“Rebecca!”

“What?”
I said, with tears pouring down my cheeks and my hand on the doorknob.

“We need to find out how far along you are.”

I turned to face her. I was breathing hard. “I have to go. I’ll um, I’ll make…another…appointment.”

I walked out on shaky legs and found I had to sit down in the lobby. I was supposed to meet Jillian at the theatre, but I found myself walking to the park down the street. I sat on a bench, totally lost in thought. I was completely unable to handle one
more thing at that point in my life, and just as I was about to break down in tears, a little girl walked up to me with long blond hair and steel gray eyes.  “Hi, do you want to watch me go down the slide?”

“What?” I asked, looking into those eyes.

“You can come with me…if you want.”

I watched her run toward the play equipment and walk up the stairs. She waved at me as she sat down on the top of the slide and smiled and clapped joyfully once she reached the bottom.
             

“Did you see me?” she asked, excitedly.

“Yeah, you did great.”

She wandered off after receiving verbal confirmation that I had indeed watched her glide down the slide and said she did a great job.

I put my hand on my belly and looked back up at the little girl with Shane’s eyes, and I started crying. He was gone, but he had managed to leave me a gift. A constant reminder of what I was so desperately trying to forget.

I walked home, forgetting all about Jillian…and my car.

“Where have you been?” my mother asked when I walked in the door.

“I um, I walked home.”

“Rebecca, it’s at least s
ix miles…and where’s your car?”

“Oh, I guess I left it…”

“And Jillian? Did you forget about her, too?”

“Jillian?” I asked, as if I didn’t even know who she was. “Oh, Jillian,” I said, when I remembered our movie plans.

“Yeah, she’s worried sick about you. Frankly, we all are. I know you miss him, but…”

“MOM! Don’t!
Please. I can’t talk about...Just, please…leave me alone. I’m fine.”

I ran upstairs and flung myself on my bed. I was allowed a two day reprieve for my ‘relapse’, but was then forced once again, to return to the living.

I had completely repressed the fact that I was pregnant, ignoring the signs, so convinced that it wasn’t true, that I never tried to hide the vomiting which was becoming more and more prominent every day. It got so bad, that I couldn’t keep anything down.

“Rebecca, this has to stop. You’ve lost so much weight. The doctor must have given you some clue as to what was wrong.”

“I’m not sick. It’s just food poisoning.”

“I may actually believe that, if you had in fact, eaten! Honey, I have to know, are you pregnant?”

I was so distraught, and in such a state of denial that I was able to look my mother directly in the eyes and say, with absolute certainty, “No.”

She sighed. “Okay. But, if this keeps up, I’m taking you to the doctor myself.  Now, come down for dinner.”

A
couple of months later…

“Rebecca, I’m going to ask you one more time. Are you pregnant?”

I stared right into my mother’s eyes and lied, again. I couldn’t tell her the truth.  The truth would only bring more questions. Questions I wasn’t prepared to answer, and answers that would make me remember. I didn’t want to remember.

So, I lied…again “No, I told you a hundred times…No!”

My mother stared at me with disbelieving eyes, but finally nodded and walked away without another word.

My father stood in the doorway, his eyes staring me down with a furious glare.  He didn’t buy it, either.

I knew I wasn’t fooling them and that they knew it was true. But day after day, week after week, I lied to my parents. I lied to myself. I knew I was pregnant, but I couldn’t face it…not without
him
…

Three months later though, I could no longer hide it from myself; and as the first pain hit me and I felt a gush of liquid running down my legs, I knew I needed help. I was home alone, and I was terrified.

I finally had to face it, and although I knew I needed help, I couldn’t reach my parents. They had gone out to dinner and then to a play with Parker’s parents. I tried my mom’s cell, but it was off, and so was my Dad’s. I didn’t know what to do. I thought that maybe one of Parker’s parents might have forgotten to turn off their phone, so I called Parker. I tried to act as nonchalantly as I could, but as another gut-wrenching pain wracked my abdomen and back, I could hardly play it cool.

“Beccs, what’s wrong?”

“N-n-n-noth-ing,” I panted, waiting for the contraction to end.

“What is it?”

“I um, oh, I need…my mom.” I stopped talking for a minute, trying to catch my breath.

“Are you hurt?”

“I need to go…to the hospital. Call your parents…oh, no…”

“I’ll be right over.”

“NO!” I shouted, but it was too late. I was bent over the staircase, breathing and crying through my contractions when Parker burst through the door a few minutes later.

“Oh, My God, Rebecca. What’s wrong?”

“I’m…I’m…in, in, la-labor!”

“What?”

“Just get me to the hospital…Oh, God, not again,” I said and reached out and grabbed his arm, squeezing for dear life as yet another contraction wracked my body.

Parker didn’t question me, he simply picked me up and carried me to his Porsche.

“OH, I’m going to-to-ru-ruin your seats!” I said, as another contraction shot through me.

“I don’t care! GET IN!” he said, more afraid of me delivering right then and there than the damage I could do to his leather.

He must have gotten me there in record time, because the next thing I knew we were ushered into a room and I barely had time to give them my name and date of birth before I had to push.

“NO! No, I’m not...It can’t be!”