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She sighs, her warm breath hitting my skin.
“What was up? Is it baby stuff?”
Her stillness tells me I might be onto something.
“Have you decided yet?”
“No.” Her voice trembles, and I instinctively brush my lips across her forehead. “I guess I’ve just been playing pretend since we started sleeping together. My body’s changing a little, but I haven’t had morning sickness or anything, just the odd queasy stomach, so it’s easy to forget that I’m even pregnant. I just want to keep playing pretend and ignoring this whole thing. But soon it’s going to be obvious. Soon my belly’s gonna get big and… I mean, unless I abort.”
I can feel her cheek shifting into what I think must be a cringe.
“You don’t seem sold on that idea.”
“I guess I’m not, but I don’t feel ready to raise a child either.”
“You could always look at adoption.”
The stiffening of her muscles makes me turn on the bed. I need to look at her for this conversation. Resting my hand on her cheek, I brush the wayward curls off her face and search her expression.
“I’m adopted.” Her nose scrunches.
“Oh, I didn’t know.”
She shrugs. “Not many people do. My parents don’t look that different from me. I mean, there’s no red hair in the family, and they both have brown eyes, but if you didn’t know, you probably wouldn’t even think to look for it.” She bites her lips together. “I’ve had a great life with them. They’re amazing, and I love them.”
“But…” I can sense one coming, so I figure I may as well say it.
“But I’ve always wondered about my parents. Why didn’t they want me? Why couldn’t they raise me? Why’d they give me away?” Her eyes fill with tears, and it breaks my heart. Like, my chest actually hurts right now.
I brush my thumb under her eye, catching the first tear to fall.
“I don’t want to do that to my kid. But I don’t want to short-change them either. So maybe abortion is the kinder option, you know? Because… I can’t be a mom.”
“You could if you wanted to.”
Why the fuck am I saying this stuff?
It’s not like I want a kid. It’s not like I can be a dad! I’ve never even had one, so how the fuck would I know what to do?
But Caroline would make a great mom. I can tell because she’s sweet and funny. She’s smart, and she cares about other people. I watch the way she smiles at others, and I know she’d drop anything to be there if Leilani needed her. I’m pretty sure she’d do the same for me.
It’s more than I can say for my mom. She didn’t even make it to my graduation, and I’m lucky if I hear from her once a semester. It’s always up to me to call and check in. If I didn’t, I’d probably never hear from her.
I’m still deciding whether I’ll even bother going home this summer.
Caroline wouldn’t be like that.
“You’d be a good mom,” I say, and she gives me a grateful smile, but it doesn’t stick.
“Keeping this baby will change my life forever. It’s not a three-month trial, you know? I’d be a parent for life.”
“Yeah, I know.” I wince, the idea sending an ugly vibration through my torso. If she’s a parent for life, then I would be too. “I’m just saying that… you not being a good mom isn’t a factor to consider. You’d be great. It just comes down to if you want to. If you feel ready to change your life. I mean, our lives.”
Shit, that’s hard to say.
I can’t seem to wrap my brain around a future that has me chasing a toddler around a backyard. It’s so fucking foreign to me. I can’t change a diaper or hold a baby. I’ve never done either of those things before.
Panic sizzles as Caroline sniffs, pushing me onto my back so she can nestle against my side again. She tucks her head under my chin and curls into me. “It’s the question I can’t seem to answer. And every time I really make myself think about abortion, I’m struck with that thought that…” She sniffs again, and I can tell she’s about to start crying. “If my birth mom had aborted me, I wouldn’t exist right now. And that’s a real mindfuck, you know? It makes it impossible to figure out whether aborting is the kind option or the selfish one. But then keeping a baby when you’re seriously not ready for one is kind of selfish, too, isn’t it? I don’t know, Casey. I just don’t know.” Her words catch in her mouth, stumbling out in bursts that are hard to hear.
