Talk Page 10

  “Why should I trust you Paul? It’s not like I’ve ever met your Grandparents, it’s not like you lied about where you were supposed to be, it’s not like I caught you cheating on me.” I said.

  “Please Susie let me explain.” he said.

  “How long?” I asked wiping my nose. “How long have you been seeing her?”

  “It was a mistake,” he said.

  “How long?” I asked him again.

  “A few months.” he said quietly. “But it didn’t mean anything. I love you.”

  “Nothing to you,” I said. “everything to me.”

  Chapter Twenty Four

  The first day of December I broke out of my post break-up funk, I cleaned up my room I stopped calling in sick to work and started living again. I wasn’t happy, but I wasn’t sad either. I was just, drifting through. Work, school, dinner sleep. I got back on my routine. I on the seventh I called Dad to check in and asked him if he had any plans.

  He told me he didn’t so I invited him to go window shopping with me. I normally waited until the last minute to buy everyone something for Christmas but this year I wanted, needed, to be productive because if I just stayed home then I wouldn’t leave, I wouldn’t want to get up I would just lay in bed depressed.

  Dad was all in on the Christmas spirit, he had an actual tree in his apartment, lights were up, and tinsel. I tried to be festive too, I bought a few reindeer stuffies and some lights, I wore a big green fisherman sweater and a elf hat, Dad wore a white turtleneck and a santa hat. We spent a few minutes laughing at each other before we headed up to Times Square, Christmas music was blasting on the speakers and from every radio. Santas collecting money lined every street corner. A cool drizzle started but Dad had an umbrella so we didn’t mind.

  Dad liked to go into every store, and go through every aisle. He liked to sit on the furniture and pick up everything that he was interested in and look it over or try it on. He ended up buying more stuff than me. I carried his bags and didn’t peak even though I had already seen what he was buying because his good mood was infectious.

  We went out to lunch at Shake Shack and I insisted he let me pay the bill.

  Maybe he really was different, maybe the divorce hadn't just been good for Mom or for Mary but for Dad too. He had even talked to Mom and Bob (over the phone) and nobody had fought or argued. He wasn’t drinking as much as he had despite working in a bar and having every opportunity to, he had started going to AA meetings, and had given me money when Mom wouldn’t even take my calls.

  Dad did have some beers in the fridge though, the night was still young we got burgers and cheese fries and watched old martial arts movies, the cheesy kind where the people’s mouths kept moving even when they had stopped talking and they had magic and superpowers and could turn back time or stop it with their minds.

  I gave him a case of German lagers for an early Christmas present, he cracked open the first one with dinner and by midnight he had finished it all off and I was still working my way through my second Yuengling. I had never been a big drinker so I got buzzed pretty quickly and after a while I couldn’t stand up. I just kept giggling and watching the room spin. When I woke up I was sore, my knee was bruised from where I had hit it on the new coffee table when I had fallen off the sofa and hit the floor. There was vomit on the floor in front of the bathroom (Dad said it was mine and there were carrots still in it from the salad I had eaten earlier) and my underwear was on backwards. My stomach cramped and when I sat down to pee there were a few spots of blood, I guess my period had started early.

  Dad was in the kitchen whistling and making coffee, he slid a plate of scrambled eggs across the table towards me along with a bottle of advil.

  ***

  Two weeks later at the start of exam week I got the stomach flu. Well I hadn’t gotten it because I didn’t know anybody who was sick but I had definitely come down with something. I was stuck clinging to the toilet My hair was a tangled birds nest, I had started breaking out (something I hadn’t done in years) and I had a massive headache. I didn’t care about finals I knew that I was going to pass but I was just too sick to care. I was surviving off of soup, it was the easiest thing that filled me up and didn’t hurt when I threw back up again.

  A few days later when I was sure that the stomach flu should have passed, but hadn’t and I saw Paul standing across the campus and I slowly realized to my horror that it wasn’t the stomach flu. I was pregnant. And that terrified me. I spent the rest of the day split between freaking out over my exams and convincing myself that I was just overreacting and stressed and that I wasn’t pregnant.

  It didn’t stop me from running down to the first pharmacy and buying a pregnancy test and doing the test right there in the bathroom. I kept my eyes on the test waiting, one minute, two minutes, four minutes, until a big black positive sign started flashing.

  “Oh my god.” I whispered. Oh my god. What was I going to do. I couldn’t be pregnant. I can’t be pregnant. I was in my senior year, I had my whole life ahead of me. I didn’t even want to see Paul again. My mind was racing as fast as my heart was.

  ***

  The next morning I walked down to the first Planned Parenthood signed all of the forms and waited in an examination room for a nurse to come.

  “I’m pregnant.” I blurted out the minute she walked into the room.

  “I don’t need any exam,” I said. “I’m pregnant.”

  “Alright honey.” she said with a comforting smile and sat down on the stool by the chair.

  I sat with my hands on my knees and to stop them from shaking.

  “I can’t,” I said quietly as if my Mom was in the room with me, “I can’t have this...baby. Please you have to help me.”

  She gave me a hug and told me that I had plenty of options but she was going to get one of the counselors to come in and speak with me if that was okay. I told her that it was and a counselor came in shortly after. She was a nice woman with a big toothy smile and rosy cheeks. She had let me hold on to her as I cried and pressed my face into her shoulder and told me that I wasn’t stupid and that it was my choice. She stressed that alot. That it was my choice.

  She gave me three options; I could have the baby and go through a women’s support group for single mothers, I could terminate my pregnancy, or I could act as a defacto surrogate for some couple and give my baby up to them or up for adoption.

  I told her that I wanted an abortion but she told me to think about it.

  “Did you know the person you had sex with?” she asked. Followed up with was it consensual.

  “Yes,” I said. “I love, loved him but he cheated on me. I haven’t spoken to him since. I haven’t even told him.”

  My whole body was numb.

  “I’m sorry sugar.” she said.

  She asked me if I had been sexually active with anyone else. I hadn’t. I had friends in college who had talked about their abortions I knew one girl Laura who had had one just a couple weeks before Christmas. I didn’t know until now how somebody could consider it, but now that I was in this position I had never been more grateful or scared. I promised myself that this would never happen to me again. That I would always make sure my partners used protection if I ever had sex again.

  I told her that I didn’t need to think about it that I wanted, needed to have an abortion. We went with an In-Clinic abortion the problem was the cost, because I didn’t have healthcare insurance it would be coming out of pocket. And it was expensive. It would cost me eight hundred and fifty dollars, with the sedation. I told her that I didn’t want to be awake, I didn’t want to remember.

  I didn’t have that kind of money on hand.

  But I had the time to get it, the clinic was booked up for the next two weeks. I was screwed but I didn’t want to go to another clinic, I didn’t want to have to tell my story again and I didn’t have the money. Even though I knew that it was happening and soon I still felt like I was going to die. It was the only thing I had been able to think
about for days. That there was a person, an actual person growing inside of me. I felt like crying again. I didn’t think I could wait two weeks, I didn’t think I could wait two minutes.

  I left with pamphlets and phone numbers of support lines and groups and people at the clinic to talk to. I cut through traffic, I didn’t bother taking the train, I didn’t care if I bumped into people or if cars had to swerve or stop to avoid hitting me or that it had started to rain again and that I didn’t have an umbrella or even a coat. I bought a hot dog and tried to eat it but I couldn’t keep it down, I threw up on the sidewalk, a few people laughed some called me a drunk or a wino but I ran the rest of the way back to my dorm. I pulled on some clean thick clothes and pulled out my study books.

  I needed things to be normal. I didn’t want to think about it. I studied, I called Mary and asked her how her day was and listened to her cry because she had broken up with her boyfriend, I called Mom and ended up listening to Bob talk about something he had seen on the TV which wasn’t that interesting but kept my mind off of things. I ate some old halloween candy and then threw up again.

  I went to sleep. I woke up early, puked and went to class, I took notes, I made myself pay attention. I considered calling Paul but I didn’t. I hated him. I hated myself. I hated my life more than I had in Dogtooth, more than I had when we were living out of a car. I was the one who got out, I was the one who had been able to find a job a place to live. I was the smart one. How could I have ended up in this situation?

  I crawled into bed and curled up with a pillow. I didn’t know how far along I was I hadn’t wanted to ask, I didn’t want to know anymore about it except how to get rid of it. And if I thought about it as an it, then that made everything easier because if I started thinking about what it really was then I didn’t know if I would be able to go through with the procedure. The next morning I turned the water on all the way on HOT and stepped in. My skin turned as red as lobster’s after a few seconds. I washed my hair and rubbed soap all over my body, pausing on my stomach. It was still flat as it had been before. I’m not sure what I was thinking. That it would be sticking out like a balloon. That I would be able to see something. But like everything else there was no sign that anything was wrong. I curled up on the floor and let the water pound down on me. I needed eight hundred and fifty dollars. I had two hundred saved up (for emergencies) but most of my money (which had come from the restaurant and from tutoring) went towards my tuition and student loans. There was nobody I could ask, nobody I could talk to.

  My friends? They might understand several of them had been through this before but even though I liked hanging out with them I didn’t want to be the same as them. Mary? We had always been close but I knew Mary had always looked up to me, I was smart one, I was the one who got us away from Mom and Dad, I had gotten us off the streets and made sure that she had gotten a good education. I didn’t want her to think differently of me, I didn’t want things to change and I knew that if I told her she would never look at me the same way again. Mom? Mom who wouldn’t even help me when I was going to lose the apartment and have to quit school. Mom whose whole life revolved around Bob now. Ha! My shame kept me from talking. There was a scarlet A for Adultery but I felt like wearing a big E for embarrassed or I for idiot or S for slut.

  I did everything you weren’t supposed to do when you were pregnant. I stopped eating. Anything. I drank water and coffee. I stopped going out to lunch, I didn't order takeout. I cancelled dinner dates with friends and only went to parties I knew were going to have beer. I worked constantly. I stayed up late. I did hundreds of sit-ups, I jogged in central park, I went to the gym and lifted weights way above by limit. I abused the AbBlaster and debated if taking boxing lessons was a step too far. I prayed for the first time in my life for my period. It never came. I wanted it gone. I went from one hundred and thirty pounds to one hundred and eight and was somehow still pregnant.

  I counted down the days and the closer I got to the procedure the happier I became, but I still didn’t have the money and I didn’t want to ask Mr. Müller for and advance because I knew he would ask why and then I would have to tell him.

  It was time to call Dad.

  I hated to do it, but he was the only one beside Mary who I had kept in touch with and because we had just started rebuilding our relationship I didn’t want to owe him anything or for him to feel like he owed me anything after he had already helped me out once before and I still hadn't paid him back. It embarrassed me to no end but I still picked up the phone and called him.

  “Hello?” Dad asked.

  I took a deep breath, “Hi Dad.” There that didn’t sound to bad.

  “Hey baby,” he said. “How are you doing?”

  “Not to good Dad, something’s come up, I hate to ask but could you loan me some money? I promise, promise to pay you back!”

  “Woah, calm down tell me what it is and how much you need.” Dad said.

  I swallowed and tried to think of a good excuse. School? The truth?

  “It’s a medical thing, procedure, nothing major but...I don’t have insurance Dad and I need to pay them in four days or else I can’t get it done.”

  “This isn’t cosmetic is it?” Dad asked after a couple minutes. “Because you know you’re fine just the way you are.”

  I wanted to cry. “No Dad it’s not, it’s really not,” I blew my nose real quick and then jumped back on the phone. “I wouldn’t be asking you if it wasn’t a real emergency Dad. I’m sorry to spring this on you so last minute but I really need your help.”

  “How much do you need?”

  “Seven hundred,” I said. Dad always preferred when we rounded numbers up or down, he hated halves and if he gave me the money I could take a taxi home instead of a train.

  “I’m really sorry Dad,” I whispered. “But I really need the money.” I messed up I wanted to say. I messed up and I’m trying to fix it but I need your help. I can’t be pregnant.

  “Okay,” Dad said. “Okay, don’t cry. Come by in a few days, I’ll have the money ready. Okay?”

  I really started crying now. “Thank you Dad,” I said. “Thank you so much. You don’t know how important this is. I’ll make it up to you I promise. I’ll be getting more hours when the semester ends so I’ll be able to pay you back.”

  “No, Susie you don’t need too.” Dad said.

  “Dad I will pay you back. Thank you, thank you so much so much.” We said a quick goodbye.

  I called Planned Parenthood and checked in with my counselor and told her that I still wanted to go through with the abortion in five days and that I would have the money to pay for it and I did have transportation home and that I had spoken with somebody about it. The next few days passed in a blur. I didn’t get a wink of sleep the night before the abortion, I drank green tea, I made myself eat a few biscuits. At seven am I went to class for my last exam wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants, I put a box full of pads, a couple pairs of underwear and two changes of clothes in my backpack along with my clutch which had the seven hundred dollars (all twenties and fifties) I had gotten from Dad. I made sure to put my earrings and a necklace into my clutch shoved down deep into the bottom of my bag.

  I left at nine am. I felt like a little kid again. It was so dark out, the rain clouds were rolling in. I was terrified and I had to keep my hands in my pockets to keep them warm and stop them from shaking. I couldn’t even listen to music all I could hear was my heart beating in my ears.

  I just kept walking and telling myself; in a few hours I won’t be pregnant anymore. In an hour everything will be okay. I will be okay. I will pay Dad back and nobody will know. I will be okay.

  I arrived thirty minutes late, I was so nervous that I had thrown up but then I had stopped to buy a pretzel so that I had something to eat. I was cold and bone-tired. I wanted to sleep. I forged a signature with my left hand on the form saying that I did have someone to take me home after I had been given anesthesia. I sat down in the waiting room in betwee
n one woman who couldn’t stop crying and another who was staring at a copy of People Magazine but not actually reading it. I stared straight ahead at the wall until a tall nurse called my name and I followed her down a little hallways and into a room.

  God if you’re listening, please forgive me, please don’t let anything else bad happen to me, please I kept alternating between praying and thinking. The I.V pricked as it went into my hand and I made myself comfortable counting up to a thousand. When I woke up the nurse was holding my hand and saying my name.

  “Susie,” susie with a smile not a sigh.

  “Are we finished?” I asked her.

  “Yes,” she said. She said something else too, something comforting and kind from the tone of her voice but I couldn’t hear it. The room was still spinning and my eyes burned with tears as I began to cry again, my whole body shaking with relief.

  When I got dressed I had to lean on the wall for support. I almost wanted to ask if there was somewhere I could sleep just for a few minutes. I was groggy and everything was blurring in and out of focus. I popped a few chocolate covered coffee beans in my mouth and listened to the nurse tell em what would be happening after (I may experience some bleeding and if I was bleeding heavily I should massage take some advil, use a heating pad and not exert myself, cramping is normal and I may have a discharge (ew) which she assured me was completely normal) and what I should do when I got home (basically nothing but sleep until my body told me it was ready to move). I told her I understood, that I did have a ride my ‘friend’ had brought me here and would be staying with me. I thanked her, the counselor I had talked to before and the said goodbye.

  The rain had stopped, but the ground was still wet and slippery. I had been given some pain medicine before the procedure but it was starting to wear off, I could feel a cramping pain in my lower stomach and I was tired but I didn’t stop walking I just needed to get back home. I had enough money to pay for a taxi but I didn’t use it, I didn’t want anyone to see where I was coming from or going, I was paranoid and I needed to walk. I needed the cold air to keep me awake and alert. All I wanted was to be back home, in my dorm with my old electric blanket, a mug of tea or cocoa and some bad movies. I wanted to call Mary and have her come over and put french braids in my hair. I wanted Mom to come over and bring me a bowl full of that crappy chicken soup she used to make when we were growing up that was more water and vegetables than chicken but never failed to warm me up. I wanted to never have met Paul. I wanted to forget everything.