“No, I don't want you to leave. I just want to deal with this, as soon as we can.” She nodded her head.
“Do you really think I'll be a mess for six months?” She sounded worried. This was scary for her too. More than for him. He hated the inconvenience, she had to deal with it, either way. It was traumatic for her.
“I hope not,” he answered her question. “Just go to sleep.”
She tossed and turned all night, and when he woke up in the morning, she was in the bathroom and he could hear her getting sick. He stood outside the bathroom door, wincing. It sounded rough.
“Shit,” he said out loud and went to shower and shave. She came out ten minutes later. He had kept his bathroom door open so he could see her when she did. She looked green. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I'm great.”
He made her tea and toast when he was dressed, told her he'd call her from the office, and kissed her before he left. And then he thought of something terrifying on the way to work. She was Catholic. What if she refused to have an abortion? Now that really would be a mess. What would he tell his kids? Or his parents? It didn't bear thinking. He made the necessary calls as soon as he got to the office, and called her at work at noon. He gave her the names of two doctors, in case one was too busy to see her, and told her to try and see one of them as soon as she could. She called both that day, used his name as he had told her to do, and got an appointment for the following afternoon. Adam offered to go with her, but she said she could handle it alone. At least she was being decent about it. But they hardly talked to each other that night. They were both too stressed.
The following night, after her appointment, she was in the apartment when he got home. It was her day off, and she was doing homework when he walked in.
“How did it go?”
“It went fine.” She didn't look up at him.
“How fine? What did he say?”
“He said it's a little late, but they can say that my mental health is at stake if I threaten suicide or something like that.”
“When are you doing it, then?” He sounded relieved, and there was a long pause as she looked up at him with huge eyes in a pale face. She didn't look well.
“I'm not.” It took a long moment for it register, and he stared at her.
“Say that again.”
“I'm not having an abortion,” she said carefully, and he could see from the look on her face that she meant it.
“What are you going to do about it? Give it away?” That was a lot more complicated and took a lot more explaining, but he was willing to do that too, if she preferred. She was Catholic after all.
“I'm having the baby. And I'm keeping it. I love you. I love your baby. I saw it on a sonogram. It's moving. It was sucking its thumb. I'm three and a half months pregnant. Sixteen weeks, the way they figure it, and I'm not giving it away.”
“Oh my God,” he said, letting himself fall into the nearest chair. “This is insane. You're keeping it? I'm not going to marry you. You know that, don't you? If that's what you think is going to happen, you're crazy. I'm never getting married again, to you or anyone else, with or without a baby.”
“I wouldn't marry you anyway,” she said, sitting up very straight in her chair. “I don't need you to marry me. I can take care of myself.” She always had before. Although she was terrified now, but she wouldn't admit it to him. She had spent the whole afternoon figuring out how she was going to pay for it. She was determined not to take anything from Adam. She had to do this herself. Even if she had to quit her job, give up school, and go on welfare. She wanted nothing from him.
“What are my kids going to think?” he said, with a look of panic. “How are we going to explain that to them?”
“I don't know. We should have thought of that on Yom Kippur.”
“Oh for God's sake, all I was thinking about on Yom Kippur was how much I hate my mother. I wasn't thinking