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He groans but casts aside the comic book. He digs into his cereal, and through mouthfulls asks me to sign a school form for it.
I take it, and read through it. The entire class is going for a field trip. The cost? $300.
“It’s okay if I can’t go,” Adam says softly, looking straight at me. “You can sign on the permission denied part.”
I think back to the five thousand I still have stashed away. I’ve also got the transcription job now.
But, I’m pregnant. I don’t even know how much a child costs. At the same time, Adam has never had extras in life. His friends go on summer vacation, buy new shoes, good clothes. Adam gets Goodwill.
I want him to have some happy memories when he grows older. I want him to feel proud of where he comes from.
“You know what, little bud? I think I can come up with the cash.” I sign the permission slip, stating he can go, and hand it back to him. For a few seconds, he stares at the slip, and then his mouth turns up into a wide grin, his eyes lighting up with excitement.
“Really?” he breathes out, almost not daring to believe it.
“Truly,” I grin back.
He jumps off the chair, nearly knocking it over in his rush to hug me. “You’re the best, Robin! Thank you!”
As I embrace him, I can’t help but wonder if I’m making the right decision. Money has always been tight, and this unexpected pregnancy is like a storm cloud hovering over us. But seeing Adam’s happiness in this moment makes me push aside those doubts. We’ll figure it out somehow.
“Go take a shower,” I tell Adam, ruffling his hair. “You’re getting late.”
Adam nods furiously and quickly finishes his glass of milk and runs off.
I turn back to making a toast when Uncle Craig walks in. I hear him before I see him because I hear a loud clatter. When I turn, I freeze.
I was meant to take the garbage can out, right after breakfast. Uncle Craig just slammed into it, and now, some of the contents lay about the floor.
“You darned bloody thing,” he screams, kicking away the trash. I prepare myself for an onslaught of abuse when he bends over, muttering something I can’t hear. My heart lurches to my stomach, and I pray against hope that he hasn’t seen the test.
I take a step to the side, and I see it there. I tense as Uncle Craig's eyes lock onto the pregnancy test lying on the floor, the pink plus sign glaring back at him. Rage burns in his eyes as he snatches it up, holding it between his fingers like it's a piece of evidence in a crime scene.
"What is this?" His voice is low and dangerous, making my skin prickle with fear. I scramble for words, my mind racing a mile a minute.
"It's... It's..." I stammer, but before I can come up with a plausible explanation, he picks it up and throws it in my direction.
“I asked you a question,” he roars at me.
Something in me snaps. Maybe it’s the protective instinct that has flickered to life ever since I saw those two pink lines, or perhaps it’s the realization that I can’t let him bully me anymore.
I straighten my back and meet his furious gaze head-on.
“It’s a pregnancy test,” I state firmly, holding his gaze despite the storm brewing in his eyes. “I’m pregnant.”
He walks closer and slams his fist on the countertop, making me flinch. His face contorts in anger, the veins bulging on his forehead. “You bloody fool,” he snarls, shoving the test under my nose. "You think you can just go around getting yourself knocked up and burdening me with another mouth to feed?"
"It's... It's a mistake," I stammer, my voice barely above a whisper. "I... I didn't plan for this."
He scoffs, a cruel edge to his tone. "Mistake, my foot! You've messed everything up now. How are you going to work and pay off your debts with a kid in tow? And with Adam’s upkeep?”
“The debts are paid off,” I remind him.
“The debts are paid off, she says,” he mocks me and bursts into an infuriating peal of laughter. Suddenly, he quietens down and whispers. “What about your debt to me? I fed you since you were fifteen. Not to mention your brother. Now you want me to do the same with your brother?”
I shake my head. “No, Uncle Craig. I swear, I’ll keep working. I’ll manage to pay you back and you won’t have to pick up a dollar for my kid or I.”
“How the fuck are you going to work when you’re pregnant, huh? How the fuck will you work when the nausea hits? Explain?" He grabs my arm again in a bruising grip. "You little slut. I took you in, fed and clothed you, and this is how you repay me?"
