Pregnant Pause (19 page)

"What is going on down there?"

I'm so into my thoughts that I don't even see the FIL coming down the hill. I stop in my tracks and wonder if I should tell the truth or lie. He'll find out, anyway. All the campers will be talking about it at dinner.

Speaking of dinner, the dinner bell rings and I'm saved from having to say anything, because the FIL continues marching down the hill while the campers begin streaming up it.

I'VE BEEN so busy with the audition and the classes and, in my spare time, thinking about Lam and Ziggy that most of the time I'm able to stash the whole scary C-section part of giving birth in the back of my mind. I'm not sleeping much, because everything about my body bugs me, my back, my swollen legs and feet, getting up and having to go to the bathroom a million times, just getting up, standing, sitting, lying. I am so ready for this baby to be out!

I catch Leo staring at me sometimes when I'm busy working on my dulcimer or working with one of the campers. Finally it bugs me so much I have to say something.

"Leo, you keep looking at me. What's up?"

"I'm just thinking how I don't think I've ever met anyone like you."

"Yeah, well, right back at you. I've never met anyone like you, either, Leonardo. But what do you mean?"

"Most girls who are sixteen would be pretty nervous or excited about having a baby, but you seem so together. So calm."

"Do I?" I smile at the thought. Am I together? How can I be? I'm still trying to figure out how I can avoid giving birth—like avoid the C-section. I still don't know who should get the baby. I don't even know how I really feel about having a baby. I should know. At first I didn't believe it—that I was pregnant, and then when I did believe it, I had this growing thing inside me and I was trying to get off drugs and caffeine and alcohol all at the same time. I felt like hell for two months, and then my parents were giving me such a hard time, and then I got married and came to work at the camp, and so I really haven't had much time to think about things. I try to explain this to Leo, and he just shakes his head.

"Amazing," he says.

***

Two days before
the day,
the FIL comes and gets me at the crafts hut, where I've just finished writing my secret message inside my dulcimer. This is Leonardo's idea. He tells everyone to write a poem, or a message to yourself, or words from a song on the bottom piece of the dulcimer before we glue all our pieces together. I write a message to my baby.

Dear child of mine,

Wherever you are, and wherever you go,
some part of you will always belong to me and some part of me will always belong to you. We are forever no matter what happens.

Your mother,
Eleanor Allan Crowe

The FIL tells me my sister is on the phone. I turn my dulcimer over to hide my message, and walk with the FIL back to his cabin.

He has his hand on my back like he's trying to help me walk. Ever since I told the ILs about the C-section, the FIL has been sweet and gentle with me and treating me like I'm sick or fragile or something. I kind of like it.

Once inside the cabin, I pick up the receiver. "Sarah?"

"Elly, hi. How are you? How's the baby? I've been keeping track. You're due in a few days right?"

"Yeah, a C-section in two days. I have an appointment." I say the words "C-section," and my heart pounds. "Narrow pelvis," I add.

"Oh, wow, sorry." She pauses and then, "So listen, I'm flying to Maine for the event. I want to be there for you."

"For me, or for the baby?" I ask.

"Well, both. I'm hoping you've reconsidered. Did you get the articles I sent you?"

"Yeah, I got 'em. If raising a kid is such a struggle and so expensive and all, why do you want to do it?"

"Come on, El. I'm in a different place than you are. I'm ten years older, and I'm married, and I've got a good job. I can give this baby what it needs."

I'm silent a second too long, and Sarah says, "Elly? You still there?"

"I'm here. I still have to talk to Lam about it, but maybe, Sarah. I'm not trying to be spiteful. I'm just not completely sure, but maybe. I'll—I'll let you know when you get here, okay? Before the C- section."

"Super! That's super, El. Okay. Oh, and Mom and Dad ought to be arriving in the States tomorrow."

"What? Arriving here? What do you mean?"

"Yeah, they wrote you, didn't they? Mom wrote me and said she wrote you, too, to tell you they were coming, that they'd be there for the birth. Didn't you get their letter?"

"Yeah, I got it, but I didn't read it all the way through. I thought it was just going to be a long lecture. I think they're still pretty ashamed of me."

"That's not the way it sounded to me. Mom said in her letter to me how she felt badly about the way she and Dad handled things with you. They shouldn't have forced you to get married."

"Wow, really?" I say. I'm stunned. I never expected them to feel sorry, and for some reason I feel guilty, like they shouldn't be feeling badly, especially since I've done nothing but give them grief all my life. And I'm the one who pushed them into pushing us to get married.

"But they believe in no sex before marriage and marriage before babies and all that," I say. "I can't believe they're sorry and they're coming home. Wow!"

If they were coming home, then Grandma Lottie had to be doing all right.

"Well, maybe all that religion works on paper, but the reality is different," Sarah says. "They're sorry, El. They were just so fed up with you. You have to admit you've been a real delinquent, especially the past three years."

"Uh-huh."

We're both silent for a bit, and I want to tell her that maybe I've changed, that maybe I'm not such a delinquent anymore. I'm off the drugs and alcohol, and I think I'll stay off them. I'm working really hard with the kids here, and I'm doing a pretty good job, too. I want to tell her that I think maybe I'd make a good parent someday, but I don't. I'm too full of so many feelings, worries about having a C-section, and now everybody coming home, and the talent show, and me and Lam, and besides that I gotta get off the phone and go pee.

"Oh, well, anyway, we'll all be there for you, El," Sarah says, breaking our silence. "We'll be there for you and the baby. I'll rent a car in Portland and go directly to the hospital, okay? So, see you in two. Good luck."

"Yeah, okay. Thanks. Bye." I hang up the phone and just stand there a second. That had to be the best conversation Sarah and I have had in years. I don't know if it's because I've changed so much or if she's just trying to be nice so I'll give her the baby.

I use the bathroom in the ILs' cabin, then hurry off to glue my dulcimer. After I finish, I plan to find Lam and decide what to do once and for all about the baby.

I'M ON MY WAY down to the lake to talk to Lam during the short break between the last class and dinner when Ziggy stops me. He comes out of the music hut carrying a music stand in one hand and a grape Fanta in the other. He pauses on the stoop and sets down the stand. "Hey, stranger," he says. "I sure miss seeing you at the break hut."

"Hey, Zig. Yeah, I miss seeing you, too," I say, "but planning the show takes up all my spare time. How's the nose?"

He touches the tip of it with his index finger. "It's okay. So, I guess you're going down to see Lam?"

I rest my hands on top of my belly and nod. "Yeah, we have some decisions to make. My sister's coming from California to pick up the baby, only I haven't discussed it with Lam. We need to come to a decision once and for all."

Ziggy hops off the stoop and walks up really close to me. "You know I'll take it. I mean, if you want to keep the baby, I'll help. Either way, if you want to come live with me in Boston after it's born, I'd take great care of you—both of you."

"But we hardly know each other," I say, because I'm still not sure my feelings for him are a good thing. "You don't know me. I'm a pain in the neck. You don't see—"

"How do you know what I see? Maybe I know you better than you think I do. Maybe there's such a thing as love at first sight, and maybe I want a baby. Maybe I want to be a father now."

I touch Ziggy's arm. "That's so sweet, Zig. Wow. I don't know what to say." I shrug and tilt my head. "But I'm still married."

Ziggy rolls his eyes. "I know you're married. You tell me that every time I see you, but, come on. Lam isn't serious about the marriage. It's a joke, a farce to him. He's young. I don't mean in age, I mean maturity-wise. He's still a little kid. You need a man. You need someone more serious. And I can support you, and the baby, too. That's important. You've got to think about that, Elly."

"I do. I will," I say. "I'll keep it in mind, really. I just don't know how I think about you. Maybe I'm falling in love with you, but I don't know. I've told you before I'd probably ruin your life in ten seconds flat, and maybe you're just too—too tame for me."

"Tame? Tame? I beat your husband up. How's that for tame? And anyway, what do you want? Why do girls always go for the dangerous ones? Ever think Lam might just ruin
your
life? Why are you so self-destructive? I'm a great catch!"

"Look, Zig," I say. "Maybe I am self-destructive; I don't know. My feelings are all mixed up, and I just can't handle this right now. I'm too confused. I've got to go give birth in two days. Is that insane or what? I really can't think about anything else. I just need to go talk to Lam."

"Okay, El. I understand. Just know that I'm here for you, okay? And I'll be with you at the hospital when the time comes, too, and Lam will be the one passed out on the hospital floor, if he shows up at all."

I sigh. "See ya, Ziggy." I leave Ziggy, and as I'm making my way down to Lam, I have a little conversation with my baby.

"I don't know what I want, baby cakes. If I were older and happily married, I'd be so excited about you—about your arrival. But I'm scared and not just because of the C-section. We've kind of grown attached to one another, you and I, haven't we? Maybe we already love each other." I whisper this because I'm so afraid to admit it. If I give this baby up, I don't want to make it harder on myself than it already is, but this baby has already been better company than most people I know. Does that even make sense? Probably not. I just know I feel this love, this protective love for what's growing inside of me.

I have my hands cupped around my belly, and my belly is warm, and the baby is moving inside me, and my heart breaks for this unborn life because, really, what kind of mess am I bringing it into?

"I want you to have everything," I say, leaning forward, trying to see past my stomach to the rocks jutting out from the earth. "I want you to have the best and most loving parents, only the happiest of days, and I want you to never feel lonely, but how can I make that happen? I don't know what to do."

I stop talking out loud, because I notice a couple of campers on their way up from the lake watching me.

And what do you think, baby cakes, what do you think about Ziggy ? I know he's a great catch and there's definitely an attraction. I don't know what's wrong with me. I should be happy that he's interested, and that he wants you, because I'm pretty sure Lam doesn't, even if he says he does. Ziggy's right. Lam's got a lot more growing up to do, but then so do I. You deserve better than all of us—even my stiff-necked sister and her pinched-faced husband, and maybe even better than the Lothrops, although they're great with all the campers. But look at the mess they made of Lam. Sarah wants you because she keeps miscarrying, and the MIL wants you to take the place of her dead baby, but is that what I want for you, to become a replacement baby, the baby that neither couple can have on their own?

The baby is still and it's so quiet all of a sudden I feel panicky, like I'm all alone and the whole rest of the world has blown up or something. I don't like it. I hurry the rest of the way down the hill. I reach the lake out of breath. I look around for Lam and catch Jen's eye. She's wrapping a rope around her arm from her elbow to the palm of her hand, around and around. I see her glance toward the boathouse then back at me. I see the last couple of campers have wrapped themselves in towels and are scurrying up the hill to get ready for dinner.

"Oh, hi,
Eleanor,
" Jen calls in a way-too-loud voice. She keeps winding the rope. "Great to see you,
Eleanor.
" I check the other lifeguards on the lake and none of them are Lam or Gren. Both seem to be missing. I shake my head and start off toward the boathouse, but just then out come Lam and Gren carrying a canoe between them like that's why they were in there. Yeah, right.

I walk over to them, and Lam does this whole act like he's so surprised to see me. He's got a bandage on his nose from the first fight with Ziggy and another one over his eye. The bandages only make him look cuter. "I came here to discuss the baby, because this might be our last time to make a decision. My sister is coming, and she expects an answer when she gets here, but judging by the two of you, I guess there's nothing to discuss. I guess my sister gets the baby."

"Yeah, well, my parents might have something to say about that. They're the baby's grandparents, and they have legal rights."

He and Gren are just standing there like dopes still holding on to the canoe, and it's like we're talking about the last piece of cake or something, not about a life. To Lam it's all the same—no big deal.

"Your parents have legal rights as grandparents, maybe, but not as parents. So—"

"It doesn't matter. This baby is both of ours, so I have a say in where it goes, too, and I think my parents should have it."

"Why, because they did such a fantastic job with you? What a dickhead. Were you two actually going at it in there, after everything that's happened? What assholes." I glare at Gren, and she blushes and stares at her stupid, ugly, stubby-toed feet. "Yeah, and you can cut the phony shy-girl act there, Gren. You suck. Both of you suck."