Page 71 of SnowBound

16

ABIGAIL

The parking lot of the grocery store was empty at this early hour. Other than the vehicles of a few employees, an RV, and a black pickup truck parked on the outer edge, it was just me. A cold drizzle was falling from the dark sky, fitting my current mood. The whole night, I had been unable to find rest. My emotions were all over the place. Today was moving day. The last day of life as I’d known it and the first one to a new chapter where the pages hadn’t been written yet.

With a bottle of orange juice and a pack of store-bought chocolate chip cookies—my craving these days—I sat on the curb, relishing the mist coating my face as I looked at the sky above.

Then my eyes focused on the two vehicles parked at the other end of the lot, and I tried to imagine their stories. The RV people probably had sold all their belongings and were traveling the world, one city at a time. The RV had become their home, and they were content with their nomadic way of living, wanting nothing else other than their independence.

The guy in the pickup truck—for some reason, I’d decided he was a man—had been kicked out of his house just like me and was trying to make sense of his new reality. He had no money, no place to live, and his truck was his best option right now. Soon he would find a job and an apartment and give his existence a new direction.

If he could do this, why wouldn’t I be able to?

I downed half of my juice to remove the dry cookie crumbles stuck in my teeth before looking at my phone. Seven twelve. A red car parked near the entrance, and a woman in her early thirties with a crying baby nestled in her arms rushed inside.

My eyes followed her until she disappeared.

That would be me. Soon.

My hand found my rounded belly and stayed there. My baby kicked as if to remind me he was real. For some reason, I believed he was a he. A mini version of Andy growing inside me. I caressed my taut skin with my palm. “Morning, you. I was having a craving,” I said. Anybody who walked by would think I was talking to myself. My abdomen was concealed under one of Tom’s large SSB sweaters, and it was impossible to notice I was pregnant. “Even though I’m an emotional mess, please don’t worry about me, okay? Today will be hard on me, but I’ll figure it out. I swear. No matter where we end up, it will be temporary. I just require some time to get my act together. I’m not always like this. Disorganized and scared. It’s just—let’s say nothing has been going as planned, and it’s unnerving. But you are safe in there. I’ll make sure of it.”

Another kick. Was that his way of telling me he trusted me? I chose to believe it was.

“Remember when I told you your daddy dared me to dance on a chair in front of a bunch of strangers? I thought I wouldn’t be able to go through with it. I was afraid of what people would think. And didn’t want to humiliate myself. It turned out I did it, and it filled me with pride because I did something I wouldn’t have done otherwise. All that to say I’m still young and clueless, and I have no home or defined future, but we have each other. And even though I’m freaking out about the unknown, I learned a big lesson that night when I did the dare. If I put my mind to it, there’s nothing I can’t do. No matter how uncomfortable it might feel at first, I’ll go through with it until we are settled. It's a promise.”

With my eyes shut, I inhaled and exhaled, trying to be zen about the predicament I was in.

With as much resolve as I could muster right now, I stood and crossed the parking lot, beginning the two-mile walk toward my parents’ house. When I neared the black pickup truck, a silhouette moving in the backseat startled me. Maybe my backup story about the owner of the truck wasn’t that farfetched after all, and someone had really slept in there. Increasing my pace, I put distance between us, not wanting the occupant to believe I was spying. A foreign sensation buzzed through me. As if I was being observed. This was ridiculous. With one more look over my shoulder, I perused the empty lot for a final time. No one was there. My imagination was playing tricks on me.

With my hands hidden in my sleeves, I walked, my mind wandering far away from here.

Ellie arrived a little after ten in the morning. She had rented an SUV from the car rental business at the airport and parked in the driveway as I sat on the front steps of my parents’ house, still wearing the sweater and leggings I wore earlier. The drizzle was gone, and the sun was hot. Humidity permeated the air, and I was suffocating underneath these clothes, but what choice did I have? I wasn’t allowed to parade—as my father called it—around the house in anything that would bring attention to my abdomen. From the time I told them about the pregnancy, they had barely looked at me and refused to engage with me. Each night, my dinner was set on my bedside table, a sign I wasn’t welcome to share a meal with them. They had cast me out. Rejected me when I needed them the most.

I was now invisible, and a part of me couldn’t wait to be out of here.

The other half was freaking out because I had found no place to live. Most apartments required proof of a job or my parents’ endorsement, which was not an option. In less than an hour, I would officially be homeless.

A dropout, homeless pregnant teen. A walking cliché.

“What are you doing out here by yourself dressed as if it’s wintertime?” my friend asked as she hopped out of the rental and hurried to wrap me in her arms. The only protective embrace I’d known for months.

“Waiting for you. I can’t believe you’re here. It’s way too generous of you to help me move out, but I appreciate it.” A lone tear rolled down my cheek, and I wiped it off with my sleeve. “You have no idea what it means to me.”

“You kidding? I wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else. This is some crazy shit your parents are putting you through. Did you talk to them again?” She pushed away from me, clamping my upper arms and studying my face.

“It’s like I’m dead to them. They won’t look at me or talk to me or acknowledge I exist. Each night, I eat by myself in my room since I’m not allowed to sit at the table with them. I could have murdered someone, and I think they would have been more accepting of my killer status than they are now.”

“This is wrong. On so many levels.”

“I’m nineteen and technically an adult. I can’t force them to accept me.”

“Still, they are your parents. Your flesh and blood. How can they be so cruel?”

“I did this, so I guess it’s earned.”

“Nah. Did you trick Andy? Nah. Did you get knocked up on purpose? Nah. These things happen. And you don’t deserve to be thrown out on the street like you’re a piece of garbage by parents who are supposed to love you unconditionally.” She surveyed the house behind me. “And excuse me, but it’s not like your folks don’t have the means or space to help you find your bearings and get your life back on track.”

I sighed.