The hair on the back of my neck prickled. "Are you saying...?" I left the words hanging in air.
"Yes..."
"We did it just that one time."
"Twice, Michael. Remember?"
"Right." My eyes crashed shut for a second. "Twice."
"Hello! It only takes one time. Tell me you didn't know that."
Chapter Two
That was August.
This is October. Two months later.
"Jodi's on the phone," Mom said, bustling into the family room, where Dad and I sat watching the Turner Classic Movie Channel on cable.
The room was warm.
The glow from the fireplace, the wide-screen plasma TV, and the twirling Miller Lite beer sign behind the bar cast a soft light over everything and created lots of shifting shadows.
Pushed back in his lounge chair, Dad slumped wrapped in his old brown robe over his plaid pajamas, his bony wrists, hands, and ankles sticking out, his feet tucked into loose leather slippers. He'd been sleeping a lot lately, either in bed or in his chair in front of the TV. He was awake now. He loved old movies. John Wayne, Cary Grant, Humphrey Bogart—he loved all those old guys.
"Who's on the phone?" Were my ears telling the truth?
"Jodi Jackson." Mom handed me the cordless. I perched on a stool at the bar. "It's Travis's daughter," she told Dad, pronouncing each word distinctly. "It's Jodi. Calling from Wisconsin."
He blinked at Mom and nodded, his eyes lighting up a bit.
My heart skipped. I'd thought of Jodi a lot since my return home from Ghost Bay. But I took a deep breath now and told my heart to be still. Travis probably wanted to know about Dad; Jody called for him. But why wouldn't Travis have called for himself to ask about Dad? He'd done that about two weeks ago. And about two weeks before that.
Mom stood watching me, head tilted, nosy, of course. I gave her a signal with my head and eyes that meant I wanted her to leave—Please? She hurried away.
I clutched the phone to my ear. "Hey! What's up?"
"Hey."
I swiveled on the stool and propped my elbows on the bar.
The last night I spent with Jodi at Ghost Bay, trying to say good-bye, she and I parted on bad terms. I rejected the idea of a long-distance relationship with her: Phone calls. E-mails. IMs. Facebook. My balking at keeping our relationship alive hurt her. She thought I was totally blowing her off, so I figured she didn't want to engage in a lot of lighthearted chitchat right now. She was probably still seriously pissed at me. But then why had she called, wanting to talk to me? "How've you been?" I asked.
"Oh...fine." Her voice was clear and strong. "How's your dad?"
I glanced at him. He was staring at the TV. Bogart was piloting some old boat down a river in Africa, a skinny actress bitching him out because he drank too much.
"He has some good days," I said. "Then some bad ones. Today has been a bad one."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"He spent two days in the hospital during the middle of the month. He seems weaker than ever now. Completely drained."
"That's terrible."
"I thought he should've stayed in the hospital, but he demanded to come home."
"Sounds like something my pop would want, too."
"There's no hope, really. Seeing him suffer kills me."
"I understand. I'll tell Pop how things are going."
A moment's silence separated us before I asked, "How are your folks?"
"They're fine."
"Does Travis want to talk to Dad?"
"I didn't tell him I was calling."
I looked at Dad again. His head had dropped; he'd fallen asleep. "I'm glad my dad got to spend some time this summer with your dad. It was like his last request. To spend a few weeks with Travis. Turned out to be six weeks."
"I'm glad, too. We did have some good times, didn't we?"
"Yes, we did," I said, wondering if she were remembering the deer hunter's cabin. "We had great times."
"I'm sorry about that last night, my yelling at you."
"Forget it, I understand."
"How's football?"
That got me started. I told her we were 6-0, clawing our way toward the state playoffs. Ranked No. 4 now in the state. I was racking up yards at tailback. I'd had three one-hundred-yard games running the ball. I was punting and place kicking like crazy. I raved about the forty-five-yard field goal I'd kicked last Friday to beat Central in the final quarter, 20-17. I kept rambling on like my mouth had a mind of its own before realized I wasn't giving Jodi a chance to tell me about herself.
"Sorry," I said. "When I talk football, I get wound up. How's your cross-country season going? You blowing everyone else away?"
God, I hoped she was. That would be awesome.
"I had to quit, Michael."
"Quit? Why?" She must have sprained an ankle. Pulled a hamstring.
"I'm pregnant."
I wasn't startled. I didn't gasp in horror. Actually, I didn't think I'd heard the word right. "You're what?"
"Pregnant."
I heard the word that time. My mouth dropped open, and my heart rumbled. Pregnant! "You're kidding, right?"
"Don't I wish."
"How do you know?"
"I used one of those tester kits you get at the drugstore. EPT—early pregnancy test."
"And...?"
"It came out positive."
I flicked a look Dad's way. He was still sleeping. Then my eyes darted to the doorway, where Mom had left. Empty. The hair on the back of my neck prickled. "Are you saying...?" I left the words hanging in air.
"Yes..."
"We did it just that one time."
"Twice, Michael. Remember?"
"Right." My eyes crashed shut for a second. "Twice."
"Hello! It only takes one time. Tell me you didn't know that."
Rapping my knuckles on the bar, I sore.
"Don't beat yourself up," Jodi said. "I should've said no."
"God, we did it twice. Like we wanted to make sure." I sagged back in the stool. I tossed my head back, closed my eyes again, and tried to stop my world from spinning. "What are we going to do?"
"I'm going to have the baby. I thought you should know."
That announcement sent a chill shooting through me. I sat straight up.
Mom came into the room, folded her arms. Had she been listening on another line? She said, "I need to use the phone when you're finished. My cell phone's dead."
Jodi was trying to tell me something. I slapped my hand over the mouthpiece. "Mom, I can't hang up right now."
"It's all right. Just let me know when you're finished."
"Dad's asleep," I said. "Maybe he should go to bed."
Mom agreed.
As Mom was waking Dad, helping him out of the chair, I said to Jodi, "I'm sorry. I didn't hear all that. My mom's getting ready to put Dad in bed. What did you say?"
"I'll be transferring to Grandview at midyear. Where I go to school, when I start showing, they'll make me quit. I'll miss the year. At your school I can go as long as I want, then transfer to TAPP."
"To where?"
"The Teen Academic Parenting Program," she said. "T-A-P-P."
"I didn't know there was such a program."
"Well, there is, and I can graduate in May, like I'm supposed to."
Jodi pregnant, going to school at Grandview, Iowa, my hometown—the thought was unbelievable. I tried to breathe slowly. "Where will you live?"
His arm around Mom's shoulder, Dad struggled toward the door.
"With my grandparents. Wisconsin has programs for pregnant teens in big school districts, too, but the nearest one is too far away to drive, especially in the winter."
"That would be a problem."
"And if I moved there I wouldn't have anyone to live with. Not anyone I know very well."
"So you'll be going to school here? Grandview High?" I still couldn't believe it.
"I've gone there before. For a semester. When Grandpa had his heart surgery, I came to stay with Grandma and him to help out."
"I remember you told me that."
"Don't worry, Michael. I'm not going to mess up your life. I just thought you should know about the situation we're in."
"You're sure you're..." I faltered, unable to say the word, afraid to turn the implications loose in my mind. That would make Jodi's pregnancy real. "You're sure?"
"I'm sure, Michael."
"You're positive?"
"I don't want to believe it either, but I'm totally pregnant."
I swallowed. "Oh wow." I didn't know what else to say.
"I better hang up. Or this phone call will cost Pop a fortune."
"Don't—"
I wanted to ask her if those EPT things were accurate.
"Good-bye, Michael. I'm sorry about your dad. I'll tell Pop."
"Wait!"
Click!
The phone went dead and then its buzz! buzz! buzz! flooded my ear. I stabbed the phone's OFF button and slumped back in the stool again.
Jodi Jackson is pregnant!
The daughter of my dad's best friend!
And she’s coming to Grandview! To live with her grandparents. To go to school here. My school. Grandview High.
It was mind-boggling.
How can she be pregnant?
How did this happen? Where were my brains that sunny afternoon when I hooked up with Jodi in a deer-hunter's cabin?
I smacked a fist off the bar. I'd been falsely accused. Obviously. I mean, what about the guy I saw kissing Jodi the morning I left the Ghost Bay campgrounds, the morning after Jodi and I fought? What was his name? Tall guy with red hair? Larry? Lester? Something like that. He came to see her just before I left. Called her girlfriend. What about him?
Easy for Jodi to lie to me over the phone, when she didn't have to look me in the eye.
Has to be him. Has to be.
I didn't make her pregnant.
Not me.
Absolutely not.
No way.
Coming next—Chapter Three: Dealing with Mom
