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After I moved in, Abel was there for me when I called my parents. I thought it was time to put things to rest and make peace with what happened.
My dad was the one who picked up the phone. That voice. So familiar. A voice I’ve been hearing for the past eighteen years of my life. It must have been one of the very first voices I’d heard when I was born. What do you say to that voice? The words died in my throat. I couldn’t speak. Abel gathered me in his arms, rocking me as I dredged up my courage to say something, anything.
But my dad knew who it was because he said my name, softly. It sounded so anguished, and all I knew was I never wanted to hear that again.
“Dad?”
He sighed. “Are you okay?”
A sob escaped me and I nodded before I realized he couldn’t see me. So I cleared my throat and said, “Y-yes. I… I’m okay. How’s Mom? You?”
He didn’t say anything for the longest time and I thought he hung up on me. I burrowed my face in Abel’s chest, soaking his t-shirt with my tears, when Dad spoke, “You put us through a lot, Evie. Your mom’s been sick. She’s only now starting to get better, and I don’t want you upsetting her.”
His voice had completely changed, became harsher and maybe I should’ve been angry at that, angry that he still cared about my mom more than he cared about me, but I wasn’t. I was only sad.
“I just called to tell you something. I’m going to have a baby, Dad.” I swallowed. “I’m going to be a mom, a-and Abel’s gonna be a dad.”
I looked up at my husband, who had been like a warm rock up until now. His face was carved out of stone, his jaw was gritted. It was my turn to comfort him now, so I fisted his cross and gave him a soft smile.
“Do you, uh, need anything? Money or anything like that? Babies can be expensive and I’m willing to send you some, if you need it.”
At this Abel spoke, “We don’t need money from you, Mr. Hart. I’m sorry I should’ve told you I was here, as well.” He shook his head, leaning over the cell phone, letting his voice be heard clearly. “We only called because we wanted to let you know that you’ll be a grandfather soon. I don’t need money. I’m taking care of it. I’m taking care of my wife. And I wanted to let you know that I…” A sigh. “What happened that night, what you said to me? I was angry about that for a long time. Many times, I wanted to hurt you back, take my revenge. But I don’t feel that anymore. I think what you did was because of your daughter. I think you were afraid that I’d fuck her up or something. Believe me, I know that now. I know that if there were even a tiny bit of a possibility that someone might hurt my child, I’d probably do the same. But…”
He turned to me, looking into my eyes, as if he was talking to me as much as talking to my dad. “I want you to know that I’ll strive to be a good father. I don’t know much about it but I’m gonna learn, every single day of my life. I’m gonna protect my daughter and I’m gonna protect yours, too. If she’ll let me.”
We still hadn’t talked about our relationship and what we were going to do after this baby was born, but I wanted to tell him then. I wanted to tell him that I was ready to be his wife in all ways that mattered.
A few seconds later, we hung up because my dad asked us to never call here again. Yeah, that’s what he said when my husband was being the bigger person. I was so proud of Abel. I wanted to be angry at my dad, but I didn’t waste my energy on hating someone. When someone right in front of me, wanted my love more than anything in this world.
I can’t believe there was a time when I was so wrapped up in the past. In history. I can’t believe how afraid I was of history repeating itself, of me ending up like my parents.
Maybe history does repeat itself. But I have a theory. It only repeats itself because we give it too much power. We’re either too afraid of it, or too much in awe of it. We always look back and try to follow or defy examples. Instead, we should try to make one. Write our own story, our own legend rather than living someone else’s.
I didn’t tell Abel about my feelings that night because we still had some ground to cover. We still needed to visit his demons: his parents. And we did that. We visited the cemetery, the neighborhood where he lived. Abel showed me his childhood through buildings, street signs, traffic lights.
