"There's only one choice for me, Michael. I'm keeping this baby."
I leaned back in my stool. "Do you think that's fair to the baby?"
"Excuse me?"
"Have you thought about adoption?"
"You'd give your own child away?"
Chapter Six
Most of the mourners attended a huge luncheon buffet at the Elks Lodge, where Dad had been a member for thirty-five years. Later as I drove Mom home in the afternoon, I felt mentally and physically exhausted. But I wobbled into the house and went straight to the phone in the family room to call Jodi.
Mom, smoking a cigarette, settled down at the kitchen table and poured over the guest book.
"Michael?" Jodi said.
"Hey."
I tugged at the coiled phone cord and slouched on a stool at the family-room bar. I pulled my dark tie loose. Unbuttoned my white shirt.
"Funeral go okay?" Jodi said. "Dumb question, huh?"
"Good as can be expected." I told her about the visitation, the funeral, the burial, and the luncheon. "Mom held up pretty well."
"How about you?"
"I did okay, I guess."
"It's terrible you had to go through all that."
I pulled off my tie and laid it on the bar. "How about you? How are you doing?"
"Sick every morning but still going to school."
"Sick?"
"It's called morning sickness, Michael."
"Right." I felt stupid.
"I thought you'd call earlier."
"I did," I said. "I talked to your dad. You were out."
"I mean call again so we could talk."
Now she sounded pissed.
"Sorry," I said. "Dad in the hospital and everything else going on...football...school...getting ready for the funeral...I just didn't think about calling again."
"When I first thought I was pregnant, I kept telling myself, 'No! This can't be!' I prayed everyday you'd call. I didn't know what to do or how to tell my parents. I felt so alone. So guilty. So ashamed."
"I know that feeling."
"I hated the thought of putting this burden on my folks. And I feared what they might think of me."
"This should've never happened, you know that?"
"But it did. We can't undo it."
I kicked off my shoes. "I realize that."
"I told Mom first. She was upset, but she didn't yell. She just kept shaking her head and saying, 'How could you? How could you?' Pop went kind of crazy, yelling, stomping around. 'You weren't raised like that!' he kept shouting. 'Raised like what?' I shouted back."
"When I talked to him the other night," I said, "I could tell he wasn't happy."
"Did you tell your mom and dad?"
"Just Mom. I told her the first night you told me."
"What'd she say?"
"She suspected something was going on between us at Ghost Bay. She didn't seem surprised at all."
"My parents had no idea. I think they thought I was too much of a tomboy to get involved."
Jodi was silent a moment. Then she said softly, "I realize I said crappy things to you that last night in that cabin at Ghost Bay when we said good-bye."
"I didn't blame you. Still don't."
"Later I started to understand how you were feeling, your dad dying. I understand why you said you didn't have room for anyone new in your life at that moment. How confused you must've been."
"I'm still adjusting," I said.
"May...I ask you something?"
"What?"
"Are...you going with anyone? Did you make up with Christie?"
I tangled my fingers in the phone cord. Christie had been my girlfriend before Mom, Dad, and I left for Ghost Bay. "That was practically over when I left for Ghost Bay, I told you that. She didn't want me to leave. She didn't want to be left alone all summer. We talked a bit when I got home, but she'd moved on."
"You haven't found someone new?"
"I'm not interested."
"Really?"
"I've got grades, SATs and football to think about." I figured now it was my turn to ask Jodi a question: "What about you and Luke?"
"Luke...?" Jodi sounded as if she didn't remember him.
"Luke, the redheaded guy who came to visit you the morning my folks and I left Ghost Bay."
"He's on a carrier in the Persian Gulf. His name's Luke McAllister."
"Did you date him when he was home?"
"Why?"
"Just wondering..."
"Yes." Then she added hastily, "But he hasn't written or anything. He's not part of my life, Michael."
"You're sure?"
"He's not the father, if that's what you're thinking."
"How do you know?"
No answer.
"How?" I asked.
"I know! That's how I know."
"You and he—"
"I know," she said flatly. "Okay?"
Silence stretched between us, except for Jodi's raspy breathing. I untangled my fingers from the phone cord and changed ears. "Have you thought about your choices?"
"There's only one choice for me, Michael. I'm keeping this baby."
I leaned back in my stool. "Do you think that's fair to the baby?"
"Excuse me?"
"Have you thought about adoption?"
"You'd give your own child away?"
"What's better for the baby, Jodi?"
"I'd never give this baby away. My mom and pop don't want me to, either. At least we agree on that."
"Lots of girls do adoptions, I think."
"I'm not one of them."
"My mom says a girl can even pick the adoptive parents."
"I know that, and there's nothing wrong a girl who adopts her baby out, but that option's not for me..."
I dragged my hand through my hair. The phone felt hot on my ear. I suddenly realized more than ever that dealing with Jodi wasn't going to be easy.
"...and I could never," she went on, "end the life of my own flesh and blood, if that's one of your choices. I hate the word abortion."
"I'd never ask you to do that. But if you keep the baby you're putting both of us in a bind. All of our plans might change. Everything..."
"The most important thing right now is this life growing inside me."
"How about an already-made family for the baby? A family with a home and where the parents have good jobs?"
"Don't you get it, Michael? This baby is mine and I'm going to keep him—or her—and raise him with or without your help."
"It can't be mine," I said. "A baby just doesn't fit in with my plans right now. You have plans, too."
"Sometimes people fuck their plans up."
I sat up straight; my ear twitched. I'd never heard Jodi talk like that before; she really was pissed. "Look, Jodi—"
"Stick with your plans, Michael—I don't need your help."
I blew out a weary breath. With a flick of my hand, I swatted at my tie, sliding it down the bar and onto the floor. Dad's funeral today, the luncheon, feeling drained, this conversation—I suddenly wanted to hang up. Maybe Jodi sensed that because she said in a softer tone, "What I really want to say is I'm going to be at Grandview soon."
"How soon?"
"My grandfather's having some kind of laser eye surgery. He doesn't see very well. Wears big thick glasses. I thought I might as well go early so I can help Grandma and Grandpa out. I'll be seeing you..."
"Do you know the exact date?"
"I'll call when I find out."
"All right."
"Good-bye, Michael."
"See you," I said, as she hung up.
I slammed the receiver into its cradle. I did deep breathing, like when you're lying flat on your back and getting ready to bench press 250 pounds. Stay calm, Michael. There's a good chance this baby isn't yours. Wait and see. It's going to be a redhead.
Coming Monday—Chapter Seven: Jodi arrives in Grandview.
