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If I had gone in there, one of those teachers wouldn’t have cared about how many laws they violated to call my father and tell him what was happening. Not that I wasn’t going to have to do that now.
The police precinct comes into view. An ugly building that doesn’t look like they have updated it in the past hundred years. I’ve never actually been inside of it, but I doubt they’ve taken much better care of the inside than they have of the outside.
“You said you have a lawyer?”
I nod my head and ramble out my father’s phone number. He doesn’t put me in a cell, instead, he sticks me in a chair next to his desk while he calls my dad’s number.
“You said lawyer, not father.”
“Same thing to me.”
He lets out a grunt of acknowledgment. They must not consider me a risk, because he allows me to stay in the seat next to him without cuffs on my wrists instead of in a cell. My phone sits in my back pocket, but I don’t dare pull it out to entertain myself. Instead, I watch the cops walk around the floor.
I never realized how much paperwork was involved in police work.
The phone on the desk rings and the cop picks it up. I don’t listen in on the conversation, but then he’s standing up.
“Come on, kid, your dad is up front.”
I follow him to the front desk where my dad is standing. The look on his face is halfway between worried and angry. It’s not an expression I’ve seen before, at least not directed towards me. I dip my head down and shy away. Having to call him in as my lawyer from a police station is bad enough, but I know the conversation we’re going to be having is worse.
“Emma, what happened?” He doesn’t acknowledge the police officer or that we’re in the precinct. It’s not like I can say anything right now, not until we’re in private. I shuffle uncomfortably while the police officer steps forward.
“Hello sir, you can take her. We won’t be pressing any charges. We couldn’t say that in front of Mrs. McGee or we would never hear the end of it. Maybe stay clear of the store for a bit?”
I nod my head in agreement. While I should feel overcome with relief, all I can feel is dread. Without charges, the only thing I had to distract my father from was the reason he got called down is gone.
The cop disappears into the back, leaving us alone. My dad escorts me out to the car, and once we're away from prying ears, I know I can't keep it from him.
“Emma. What happened?”
“I didn’t steal anything. I was going to pay for it after I got out of the bathroom,” I tell him.
“What did you take that needed to go into the bathroom with you that was so urgent? Was it tampons? I thought I bought some for you a couple of weeks ago,” he rambles. Emotion clogs up in my throat. I’ve never been one to disappoint my father. I don’t know what this news is going to do for our relationship.
“It was a pregnancy test.”
The car is silent for a few moments. I don’t look over at him, though I know he’s staring at me.
“And it was positive. I’m pregnant.”
“Emma…”
“And I’m keeping it, Dad. I didn’t know before I took the test, but I know now.”
He says nothing to me as he drives us home. Once we’re in the garage, he gets out of the car without a word, leaving me alone with nothing but my thoughts. He needs time. I know he doesn’t agree with my decision, and I do not know what this means about my future, but I can’t imagine not having my baby now I know they’re in there.
And I still haven’t told my father who the baby’s dad is.
Chapter Six- Emma
It’s been nearly a month since I told my father about my pregnancy, and I still feel like I’m walking on eggshells around the house. I’ve already told Brown I will be deferring my enrollment for a year because of unforeseen health events. They were luckily more understanding than I had expected.
Pregnancy has been rough, rougher than I was expecting it to be. I don’t think I’ve ever been so tired in my life. The nausea has become full-blow morning sickness, which isn’t limited to the mornings. I spend all hours of the day with my face in a toilet, depositing whatever I’ve dared to eat. It’s supposed to get better in the second trimester and I look forward to being able to do something outside of sleep and vomit.
I have an appointment scheduled for next week, one I will go to alone unless I connect with Enzo. He doesn’t have a social media profile, not one that I can find, and while I’ve found a few leads on the internet, none of the people I’ve called have been willing to connect me with him. My last chance is my father.
He’s been retreating into his office as soon as he gets home each day. From there, he goes straight to bed. He must be picking up food on his way home because family dinners are a thing of the past. It’s like living with a ghost.
