AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“No.”
I hear her mutter the wordassholeunder her breath. “Yes, for the foreseeable future, you’re here with me. He’s not taking you back in. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you, but he can be harsh like that.” She reaches over tentatively and pats my hand. “It’s not so bad here, Charlotte. I promise. Just like you, I landed here a long time ago when I needed to escape. I’ve made this place my home.”
I haven’t been touched by another person since Simon up and left me. I wasn’t comfortable in my new surroundings, and she was still little more than a stranger, but I appreciated Janelle’s small gesture of kindness more than she could ever know.
“A beautiful girl, new in town. Dis’ll give ‘em sometheen to talk ah-boat.”
It takes me a moment to understand what the waitress is saying. Unlike my aunt, the waitress and the school secretary we encountered have an unusual way of speaking. After the woman I now know as Carol Ann takes our order, I catch my aunt smiling at me.
“I’d say about a quarter of the townspeople speak like that, more so the farther away from the coast you venture. A lot of the early settlers up here were Scandinavian. They call it Yoopanese. This and them are pronounceddisanddem, nothing is noth-een, and about is, yes, ah-boat.”
“I’ll get used to it,” I offer, trying my best to be a good guest. Let’s face it, I have nowhere else to go. I go to reach into my back pocket for my phone and realize, for the third time today, that I no longer have a means to access the outside world.
She blows on a spoonful of chili. “Reception is spotty up here anyway.”
I make a mental list. First order of business is to get my hands on a computer. “Is there a library in town?”
“Powell shares a library with Ishpeming. You have your license yet?”
“Yes, but—”
“Best way to learn is by doing.” She looks to me after gesturing for a refill on her coffee. “Let’s take a tour around town, see the sights, and then we’ll drive the route between my house and school. I imagine you won’t want to be riding the bus once you start to show. I mean,ifyou to start to show.” Gulping down my shame, I nod. “I work from home most days so you can take my truck. When I need to be somewhere, I’ll drop you off at school.”
“Thank you, Aunt Janelle. I really do appreciate everything you’re doing for me.”
“It’s my pleasure.”
And the way she says it, I start to believe that maybe it is.
I take the “sights” in again as I make my way to and from school the following Monday. Powell is a one stoplight kind of town. There’s basically a diner, a general store, volunteer fire department, post office, sheriff’s office and a sad excuse for a gift shop.
My first day of school wasn’t entirely awful, even though each and every teacher felt the need to introduce me at the start of class. Halfway through the day, after breezing through trig, history and chem, I was confident I’d happened upon a school system less challenging than my own. By the time I sat down at a deserted table in the cafeteria with a well-worn copy ofJane Eyreto keep me company, I was digging this new state of anonymity and starting to believe the affirmation I’d been repeating since sometime in late August:I’m going to be okay.
No one approached me. Not that first day or in the days that followed. My wardrobe earned me a few envious side glances from the girls and a few lingering looks from the boys, but for the most part no one seemed to give a flip about the new girl.Ah-boatthe new girl, I should say. God, the accent took some getting used to, and every time someone ended a question withyah?oreh?I wanted to smack myself in the forehead. I didn’t really mind, though. The accent gave me the giggles, and I was sorely in need of amusement. And I liked listening in on their conversations, observing the body language, watching the way the kids interacted with one another. I was comfortable in my role as an outsider.
The time alone gives me time to think. I sit in the library, settling into a corner so that no one can walk up behind me and get a glimpse of the flow chart I’m drawing. My three choices are written as headings: Terminate, Adoption, Keep Baby.
Under Terminate, the pen shakes in my hand when I write:Have to do it this week. I am now dangerously close to the ten-week mark that’s considered the cut-off for the non-invasive pill option. Just swallow a little pill—simple, clean and easy. It’s obviously what Simon would have wanted me to do. He’d be none the wiser and I could go on with my life. Hopefully I could stay on here and get my high school diploma in this newfound state of obscurity. I could study my ass off for the college entrance exams and get a scholarship. Then I could head anywhere. I could head south to Florida or west to California. Hey, I could even plant my ass at Northwestern the September after next. Suddenly filled with rage, I picture myself standing tall, squaring my shoulders and spitting on Simon Wade as I pass by him on the quad.
My feelings are all over the map when it comes to him. I’m obviously not rocking a loving or conciliatory vibe at the moment.
When I move onto the Adoption heading, my thoughts go to Miss Dawson. A decade. She has a ten-year-old daughter out there somewhere. I write:Find a nice family. When I conjure up an image of my prospective parents, Blake Lively and Ryan Reynolds come to mind. I aim high. They’re a golden young couple, well-dressed, and they obviously have the means to provide a child with every advantage. A lump forms in my throat when I envision their tears of joy as they look down in wonder at the precious bundle they cradle together. The scene unfolds with me snatching my baby back from them and running down the hospital corridor in the opposite direction. Ugh.
I go to town under Keep Baby. First order of business:Get GED in January. I’ll be turning seventeen then.Ask Janelle if she’ll let us stay. The two of us have fallen into a comfortable routine, but I really don’t know how she’d feel about housing both me and a baby for the foreseeable future.Get a job. See about online college courses.I keep adding items.Buy crib, baby clothes, diapers. I still have twelve hundred dollars stashed away, and I’m proud knowing I can cover some of the basics on my own. This list is daunting, though.Apply for medical insurance. As I jot question marks next tofood stampsandwelfare benefits, I remember about the small investment accounts my mom insisted on opening for me and my brother with money from our Baptism and Communion gifts. That’s what capable parents do.See about legal emancipation—I underline this last item on my list. I don’t want my father or Christian getting their filthy mitts on that account.
“We’ve got an appointment in Marquette tomorrow after school.” Janelle takes a spoonful of mashed sweet potatoes and then passes me the bowl. “They have a clinic there.” I don’t even realize I’ve dropped my gaze to the table until I feel her finger on my chin coaxing me to look at her. “Hey now, it’s just to meet with a counselor to talk things out. Shoot, I shouldn’t have phrased it like that.”
“No, Janelle, it’s okay. I just…”
“What? Have you come to a decision?”
“I don’t want to get rid of it.”
Before I blurted out those words, I really hadn’t come to a decision, but now I feel some measure of relief in knowing my three choices are reduced to two.
The ensuing silence makes me uneasy so I fumble for something to say. “I mean, I don’t know if you…”
“If I what, child? You have to speak. I can’t read your mind.”
