What Kind of Love? (10 page)

“Not really,” I admitted.

“Vell then, if you're not so busy,” she asked, “vy von't you come?”

I told her that I didn't have any way to get over to her house because I couldn't ride my bike anymore. I didn't want to tell her the truth, which is that I don't like meeting new people because they always stare at my stomach and say dumb things like, “You're so young to be a mother.”

And Mrs. Rykoff said, “That is not a problem. Somevone vill pick you up Vednesday the tventy-third at five. Ve vill start vith Haydn, the
Emperor.
You vill go through it beforehand, ya?” And that was all there was to it.

I'm really happy that she asked me. But I'm scared that I won't be good enough. Everybody in the group is in college.

Monday, October 14

Today I taught my first lesson. It went pretty well, and I think Sarah really liked me. Actually, it was fun for me. Much better than working at the nursery. I showed Sarah how to hold the violin and the bow and let her practice bowing different rhythms. I'm teaching her to read music, too. We began with whole notes, half notes, and quarter notes, and clapping time. Next week I think I'll start her playing “Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star.”

Mom was happy when I told her about the chamber group. She promised to find our tape of the
Emperor
for me to listen to before I start learning it.

I hope Mrs. Rykoff warns everyone about me so their mouths don't drop when they see me.

Wednesday, October 16

Stacy and I went to see Yolanda and her baby after school. The baby is beautiful. He has long, dark lashes and a perfectly round little face with lots of dark, straight hair. He makes me wonder what You-in-There with the elbows and knees are going to look like. If you take after me, you won't have much hair at first. But I know you will be beautiful, all little and cuddly and sweet.

When I asked Yolanda what labor was like, she shook her head and said, “You don't want to know.” She and Felix had gone to childbirth classes, but they never expected it would be that bad.

I've been thinking about childbirth classes. Dr. Price and Mrs. Zakos keep telling me I should go, but Stacy says it's all couples. Everyone comes with a coach to help them when they are in labor. If Peter could come home at Thanksgiving instead of Christmas, it wouldn't be a problem. I don't know who else I can ask. Mom? Daddy? That's a joke. They can't stand the idea of my having a baby. It would be awful. Carrie? Dianne? They'd be more scared than I am. Sandy could do it, but she isn't here. And I would never ask Nick. I guess there isn't anyone.

Thursday, October 17

Last night I dreamed I went into labor. I yelled for someone to come, but no one did. Peter wasn't there. When I tried to call Mom at work, her line was busy. I called Carrie, and she wasn't home. Neither was Dianne. Finally I tried Daddy. He hung up on me. The contractions were coming faster and harder. They were tearing me apart. I couldn't stand it anymore. The baby was coming! I woke up all wet and sticky. The baby was pummeling me with kicks.

I can't get the dream out of my head. What will I do if I'm alone when I go into labor? Call a cab? That's what Debbie says she's going to do. But what if the baby is born in the cab? It happens. I've seen it on the evening news. I think it would be awful. What if something went wrong?

Oh, Peter, why aren't you here with me? I need you. Please, please come home before the baby's born. Please don't leave us here all alone.

Dear Peter,

One of the girls at school had her baby last week, and she had a really hard time. She had to have a cesarean. I'm scared, Peter. I've been having nightmares about it. I keep worrying that you won't be here in time, and that I'll be all alone when I go into labor. The baby isn't due until the end of December—but it could be early. I am begging you to be here. I don't think I could stand to go through it without you.

I need you, Peter. Please call. I can't take much more.

I love you,

Val

Saturday, October 19

Sandy came home for the weekend, and the three of us went to see this silly movie. Sandy let me drive, even though she's not supposed to because I'm not on the insurance. Nick wanted her to let him drive, too. She wouldn't because he doesn't have his learner's permit yet. I was a little scared because I hadn't driven since they found out about the baby, but I did okay. I'm so proud of myself. Sandy says all I need is a little practice, and I can get my license.

After the movie, Sandy took us to a great coffee-house bookstore in Laguna. There was a classical guitarist. I ordered a
caffé latte
because it sounded exotic, but it was just coffee and milk.

This morning I found an old high chair for seven dollars at a garage sale. I almost bought it, then decided Mom would freak out if I brought it home. What I'm really going to need is a crib or a bassinet.

I wish I could get the baby a new crib. I'd love to have a white one—with those rounded, knobby slats—or maybe one that's a light natural wood. There are really beautiful cribs in the stores. But I'll have to find a cheap used one. The girls at school say you can pick something up at the Salvation Army.

Monday, October 21

I finally got a letter from Peter.

Val,

The last thing I wanted was to upset you. I bought the chain because I wanted to get you something nice for your birthday. I never thought you would make a fuss about the money I spent on it. The chain didn't cost that much. Not enough to make a difference.

You think I don't care about the baby—like I'm some sort of flake. I don't need to be reminded. I think about the baby all the time. And I worry, too. I'm scared, too. But you know, Val, the baby is all you ever talk about in your letters. We can't stop living just because you're pregnant. What's wrong with my doing something special for you on your birthday? I don't understand what you're so upset about.

I couldn't stop crying. It's so hopeless. He really doesn't understand. He isn't here and he can't imagine how fast the baby is growing. If he could see how big I'm getting or feel the baby move, maybe then he'd understand. But it isn't real to him. And all I can do is write.

Dear Peter,

I'm sorry I made you feel bad. The chain
is
beautiful and I love it.

I was relieved you wrote that you think about the baby all the time. I was beginning to think I was the only one. I should have known better, but you never mentioned it in your letters before. I know you are afraid, too. Still, I really believe that the two of us can make it if we're together. We can't let this separation tear us apart. It's what our parents want, and we can't let them win.

Writing is so frustrating. We would never have had this misunderstanding if we were together. I can't wait until you come home at Christmas. I need you. I miss you so much it hurts.

Love,

Val

Tuesday, October 22

Went to see Dr. Price for my seventh-month checkup. He brought up adoption again. But he saw how upset he was making me and he stopped. He's been so nice that I had to explain how I feel about it. I told him just because I'm only sixteen and we don't have any money, it doesn't mean we don't love our baby. I could never have the baby, hand it over to some stranger, and forget about it.

Then he told me about these adoptions where it's not just giving up your baby and walking away. The mother knows the people who adopt her baby and can even keep in touch with the baby if she wants. I said I still wasn't interested because Peter and I were getting married. I thought Dr. Price was going to say something about our being too young, but he didn't. He just wished me luck.

Thursday, October 24

I have to remember to thank Mrs. Rykoff for talking me into playing with her chamber group. I was really nervous when the guy came to pick me up yesterday, but as soon as he opened his mouth I forgot about myself. He stutters so badly it took him a full minute to tell me his name: Bret Arneson. Once we started to talk about music, though, he didn't stutter at all. Bret's a
really
good cellist. He was the only one who knew the music. The rest of us were lost most of the time. First violin is Gwen Matsuda. She didn't have a chance to go through the music beforehand, and she doesn't sight-read very well. Even I knew the music better than she did. Robbie Cohen, the viola player, picks up on things quickly, and he was very impatient with Gwen. He didn't say anything, but it was easy to tell because he rolled his eyes every time she messed up. Bret would be really nice-looking if he didn't have this awful carrot red hair.

I want to have my part completely under control next week. I love the music, and it's good for me because it takes my mind off things.

Friday, October 25

Carrie called to ask me what I was going to wear to Dianne's Halloween party. When I told her Dianne hadn't invited me, she got all upset and said she was going to talk to Dianne.

“Don't say anything to her, please,” I begged her. “I wouldn't go even if she asked me.”

Carrie shouted at me, “Stop being such a damned martyr.” Then she started lecturing me about how I was feeling so sorry for myself that I was cutting myself off from everyone.

Boy, did that make me mad! I told her off. It's not me doing the cutting, it's them. Dianne doesn't know how I feel about going to her party—she never asked me to come! She just doesn't want to be seen with me.

Now I'm so upset, I'm crying again. And it isn't because I want to go to Dianne's damned party. It's just … because.

Saturday, October 26

I thought about it and decided Carrie was right. I need to stop cutting myself off. What I really need is to be with people who are going through the same things I am. So I asked Stacy if she wanted to do something tomorrow. I think she was sort of surprised that I called. She said she had to watch Tyler and her little brothers, but I could come over there.

I feel a little funny about going to her house. I really do like her, and she's been very nice to me at school. At the same time, I know I would never have anything to do with someone like her if I wasn't pregnant.

Hey, wait a minute. Look who's talking.… I'm not any better than she is. I'm an “unwed mother,” too, and I'm younger than she is. Time to get real! I'm not Daddy's little princess anymore.

Sunday, October 27

Went over to Stacy's. She lives in a teeny tiny apartment with her mother and stepfather and her two little brothers. She and Tyler have one bedroom, and her mother and Joe have the other. Her brothers sleep on the couch in the living room. I don't know how they do it, but they all seemed to get along. I tried to feed Tyler while Stacy was fixing supper for the boys. Every time I got the spoon in his lips, he closed his mouth and turned his head away. I kept feeding his cheek or his ear. He was a real mess!

Then Stacy's mother came home, and Tyler started bouncing up and down in his high chair and wouldn't calm down and eat until his Nana took over. He loves his grandma. Stacy says she takes care of him all the time. She's lucky.

When I told Mom how much Stacy's mother helps her, she said, “Don't get any ideas, Val. Just because Stacy's mother does something doesn't mean we will. We want something better for you and Sandy and Nick. If you insist on throwing your life away, though, you're on your own. We love you, but that's how it's got to be. I wish you'd listen to Dr. Price. He says he knows a couple who have been trying for years but can't have children of their own. They would love to have your baby, and they would give it the stable home it deserves. We can't afford to do that, Val. You know that.”

They're really not going to help me. I guess I always thought they'd change their minds, but I can see that they won't. I don't know what I'm going to do. What am I going to do? Oh, dear God, I wish I knew.

Dianne called. Carrie probably made her.

Monday, October 28

Sarah came over for her lesson today. She played “Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star.” I like teaching her. And even if I say so myself, I'm not bad at it.

I saw Peter's mother. She came into the cleaners while the lady was making out the ticket for my clothes. My back was to her, and I don't think she recognized me. But I saw her in the mirror over the counter. I have nothing to be ashamed of, so I turned around with this big smile and said, “Hello, Mrs. Winder. How are you?” And she didn't even blink. She looked right through me like I was a piece of glass and walked out without getting her dry cleaning.

I don't know why, but it made me feel real good.

Tuesday, October 29

I can't believe it. Mrs. Rykoff nominated me for a scholarship to ProMusica. She called last night when I was practicing. I was so excited when she first told me that I was stuttering almost as much as Bret Arneson. It's such an honor. It's one of the best music camps in the country.

Then, when I was listening to her tell me about it, it hit me. What does it matter if she puts my name in now? I can't go.

I started to say so, and she interrupted, “I know, the baby. But I'm putting your name in anyvay. Let's just vait and see vat happens. If you get in, ve'll vorry vat to do vith your baby.”

She said she'd help me get ready—I have to make an audition tape. It's incredible! I hope I get in, even if I can't go. It would be so great. Mom was really pleased. She kept telling me what an honor it was, as if I didn't already know, and that we had to call Grandpa. Then Nick came into my room and promised that he'd take care of the baby if I got in.