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“I didn’t know what choice I would have been giving you. Like I said, I didn’t know what I was going to do. If I did tell you, and then didn’t keep the baby, I would have felt like a slut for sleeping with you while pregnant with another man’s child. And if I did keep the baby, I didn’t want you to feel obligated because you had told me you loved me and I would have always wondered if you were only with me out of pity.”
“I was in love with you for Christ’s sake! I deserved to know!” I see her jump a bit and realize I just yelled that at her.
She whispers so low that I almost can’t hear her when she says, “I was so ashamed. I went from being the good girl who really never slept around to being knocked up at twenty-one with no baby daddy to speak of. I didn’t want to see the look of disappointment or disgust on your face, or to get rejected yet again.”
I don’t know what to say because I do understand where she’s coming from, but I still wish I had known. I just stay quiet.
“The thing is Jonathan, it’s because of you that I have her. If I hadn’t gotten to spend a week surrounded by love and joy—to see that good men really did exist out there in the universe—I don’t know if I would have made the same decision. What I felt for you was so strong and that week with you made me feel whole. I was in such a dark place, and without even knowing it you pulled me out bit by bit. It started before I even saw you. It was your laugh. I heard you laugh and it shook me out of the haze I had been wallowing in. You woke me up, gave me hope and for a short time, love. You gave me strength and confidence. You will never know how that one week of my life changed me forever. I haven’t felt that sense of wholeness again. Not since I walked away from you that day. Don’t get me wrong. Ireland is amazing, and I could not love her more than I do or be more proud to be her mom, but the love I get from her is different than what you gave to me that week.
So, what I have really wanted to say to you since December 1, 2010, is thank you. There wouldn’t be Ireland without you. I thanked you silently the day she was born and I held her in my arms for the first time. I’m so glad that I finally get to thank you again in person.”
I’ve been so entranced, hanging on her every word that I’m just now noticing that she has tears streaming down her face. I lean forward and wipe her tears away with my thumbs, give her a kiss on the forehead, stand up and wipe the grass from my shorts. My mind is going a million miles an hour right now, but what I keep coming back to is that she didn’t trust me enough or give me the option to stay or go. I can’t talk about this anymore. I need a chance to think.
“Emily, I really appreciate you telling me everything and I really am sorry you had to go through all of this on your own, but I just don’t know what to think. You were pregnant and didn’t tell me. I was making love to you every night and you didn’t tell me. I told you I loved you and you didn’t tell me. We sat and had coffee for two hours and ‘caught up’ and you didn’t mention the biggest thing in your life? This has been a lot of information and I really just can’t talk about it anymore. I need to get out of here and just think. I can’t fucking deal with this shit right now.”
I run my hands through my hair so hard I’m sure I just ripped a chunk out, but my mind is so fried it wouldn’t even register if I did. She’s standing now, still crying, and I just stare at her for a beat then turn and head for my truck.
Sugar
Emily
I didn’t sleep at all last night. So many things were going through my head after talking with Jonathan. Should I have told him way back when? If I had told him would we even have happened? Would he still have wanted me to wait for him? Are those decisions I should have let him make? The hardest part . . . seeing his face when he thought for those few minutes that Ireland might be his. That is what is killing me. What’s worse is that he thought I had kept her from him. His visceral reaction to thinking he could have been a father has me wondering if he would have wanted that role, or if the thought was something he couldn’t even consider.
I understand he needs time to think, I really do, but I have so many questions for him now. To start with does he think I am a slut because I was with him just weeks after Harrison? Does he think I didn’t mean it when I told him that I loved him back then? And of course I am back to thinking he hates me again. I just need to know where we stand and where we go from here.
I want to know all of this but at the same time I don’t even know what I want from him. I know that I feel all the same things I felt before and that I love being around him. He is still drop-dead gorgeous and I miss his dimples that don’t seem to make many appearances these days. I know I have missed him every day, but what do I want from him? I have Ireland now, it’s not just me. I can’t let her get attached to somebody if it’s not the real deal, but at the same time I don’t want him to think that I expect him to be her fill in dad. I don’t need a man in my life to take care of me and my little girl. I have done that on my own for the past four and a half years. The problem is now that he’s here I do feel like I need Jonathan in my life. I don’t just need him in my life, I want him in my life. There may not even be a reason for me to wonder all these things because he may never want to see me again after last night.
Ireland and I are walking home from the park with Frank and I see that the driveway has filled up while we were gone. Mickey is hosting Sunday football at his place today. Seattle is playing the Rams and since this is Portland I have a feeling there will be a lot of Seahawk fans here today. Since Portland doesn’t have a team most people root for the Hawks, but after all my years in California I have to say I’m pulling for the Rams today. I have no idea who all is here but I hope they can keep the foul language to a minimum with Ireland around. I feel so bad that I am cramping my brother’s style and I hope he doesn’t grow to regret having us stay with him.
We go in through the garage so that I can throw away Franks bag-o-poop and come in from the laundry room and through the kitchen. I get stopped here by Shelley, Marnie and also Trish, who is Wesley’s fiancé. In the short time I’ve been back all of the ladies, and their husbands, have been incredibly welcoming. There’s something to be said for the family that is created within a police department. It’s a life that those not living it will ever understand. I may not be an officer, and I may not be married to one but I grew up with a dad in that line of work and now my brother is doing the same thing so, I get it. They have all offered to babysit, given me advice on day cares, the best stores in the area, where to eat and where not to eat . . . you name it and these ladies can fill you in. The best part is, so far, they don’t seem too gossipy. But I am the newbie so things could change.
Ireland is still holding my hand as we chat about who brought what to eat, and Trisha and I confess that we really do love football and that we kinda wanna go watch.
“Mommy, if you go watch the game with Uncle Mickey can I too?”
“Only if you’re quiet, sweetie. And you have to let your uncle watch the game.”
“I pwomise, mommy.”
“Ok, go ahead and I’ll be right there.”
After a few more minutes, Trisha and I go to see if there’s anywhere to sit in the living room or if I need to grab a chair from the kitchen table. The first thing I see when I walk in to the living room is the love seat that is filled with Jonathan and Courtney Sandberg. They aren’t just sharing said ‘love seat’ but she is all up in his business sitting as close to him as she can without sitting on his lap. His arm is resting on the back of the chair behind her shoulders.
His eyes meet mine and he just looks at me and gives me a slight shake of the head as though he’s trying to tell me it’s not what it looks like.
I feel the burst of rage color my face as I try not to storm out of the room and pretend that I don’t care about what I’m seeing in front of me. That would be too easy though because this is exactly when Ireland sees Jonathan too. She walks up to him and leans on the arm of the love seat only inches away from him and says, “Hi, Jonafon.”
“Hi, Ireland. What have you been up to?”
“Mommy and I took Frank to the park.” She says for everybody to hear and then leans in his ear to whisper. She hasn’t quite figured out that she isn’t talking quiet enough because we can all hear her say, “He pooped in the grass and then Mommy had to use a bag to pick it up. It was so icky.”
This gets some chuckles from the room and a, “Way to go Frank! Thanks for doing it on your walk with Emmers and not me! Score one for big brother!” from Mickey.
I just make a smart ass little sister face at him and shake my head.
“It is kinda icky but I have to do the same thing when my dog, Frances poops.” Jonathan says sounding completely engaged in his conversation about dog poop with my little girl.
By now she has propped herself up on arm of the love seat and is practically sitting in Jonathan’s lap when she asks, “Oooohhh, you have a dog too? Her name is Frances?”
