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Before I can brave a look at my mother, she takes a seat next to me and wraps her arms around me, holding my head against her chest. “I knew something was wrong. I’ve been telling your dad that for months.”
“You’re brave for staying and for telling us,” Dad says, causing me to look up at him with confusion. “I’m assuming you haven’t hit her back?” I shake my head. “Brave,” he repeats. “Strong.”
“Why did you decide to tell us now? What are you going to do?” Mom asks.
“Because there’s a baby. A baby I don’t even want,” I admit in a whisper. “She trapped me.”
Mom’s eyes widen. “FC, I love you, but you can’t go around saying that about a woman.”
“I’m not lying,” I say, a tad harshly. “What else do you call it when she stops taking her birth control without telling you, when she says she is still taking it, and then tells you you either have sex without a condom or you get hit and have to spend the night in a hotel?” That has to be one of the worst things I’ve ever said to my parents, but I don’t need them to question me about Lila.
Mom’s jaw drops and Dad looks pissed.
“You sent me this,” I rub the fabric of the onesie, “and it hit me. It got a little more real. I need a plan to get away from Lila and take my baby with me. That’s why I decided to tell you.”
“You need to quit the drinking,” Dad orders. “Anything she could use against you, stop right now.”
I nod and Mom says, “Start documenting everything she does that will hurt her and help you. Every time she hits you, write it down. They’ll want documentation.”
We talk for hours about a plan and Mom pesters me with questions about what my life has been like, becoming more and more upset as the night wears on. It feels good to get it off my chest, for someone else to know the secret I’ve been keeping. They give me hope that I’ll be able to get out of this situation and take my baby with me.
But when I get home the next evening, Lila not only has dinner ready, but there’s a shot of tequila waiting patiently by my plate. My mouth waters as I stare at it. My heart beats faster. I want it even more, knowing I can’t have it.
“What’s the matter?” Lila asks.
“Nothing.” I lift my eyes to look at her. “I’ve been thinking, though, and you’re right.” My hand trembles as I lift the shot. Each step I take seems to echo drink, drink, drink, drink into my mind. Somehow, I manage to pour it down the sink and then grab the bottle. “If you can’t drink, neither should I.” Just as I slowly tilt it over, my body and mind want to rebel and pour the delicious liquid down my throat instead. Lila grabs my hand, stopping me. I sigh quietly with relief as I look over at her.
“No, FC. You don’t have to do that. It’s fine. I don’t mind if you drink.”
What? She was insistent before I left for my parents’. I shake my head. “I should quit now. We won’t be able to drink when the baby comes either. Our baby needs better parents than that, so I should quit now.” Once again, I tilt the bottle even though her fingers dig into mine. My eyes drink up every drop for my mouth. After another second, I think about how this is wrong and I should save some of it. Just in case.
I didn’t realize it would be this difficult.
I take a deep breath as the last drop disappears down the drain. “There. First step to becoming better.”
“Proud of you, babe,” Lila says, but it lacks sincerity. “Let’s eat dinner.”
“What do your parents think about the baby?” I ask.
Lila shrugs. “They aren’t happy. Mom said we should’ve been more careful. Dad thinks they’ll end up having to pay and take care of the baby.”
Well, it’s nice to know they think I’ll leave Lila with my baby. As if talking about her conjured the woman, there’s a knock on the door and I open it to find Lila’s mother standing on the other side.
“Oh, good. You’re both here. We all need to talk.” Karen walks past me and finds a chair to sit in.
I close the door and sit next to Lila on the couch. Karen folds her hands together on top of her lap. It’s never good when we see Lila’s mom and I dislike her almost as much as Lila for the simple fact that one day she came over, saw me with a black eye, and didn’t look surprised. She didn’t ask me what happened or how I got it. She didn’t acknowledge it at all and that’s when it hit me. She knows exactly how her daughter is and what she does. I’m not the first person she’s hit.
I was so pissed when I made that realization, I got drunk off my ass as soon as she left.
“What are you here for?” Lila asks.
“Since you’re pregnant, your dad and I have talked a few things over.” She glances between the two of us. “We’ve decided it’s time that both of you start being more responsible.”
“What the hell did you just say?” I interrupt. Drinking aside, I’m responsible. I’ve never missed a day of work and I pay my bills. How am I irresponsible?
Karen ignores me. “We want rent and Lila, you’re taking over your car payment, phone bill
, and car insurance.”
