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She holds me enough to move us both to a couch and we sit. I begin to sob. I honestly have no idea where all these tears are coming from. I have been crying for weeks off and on, and I can’t believe there are more tears to shed.
I feel my mom kiss my hair, whispering, “Oh my sweet girl.”
I soon notice she is also crying.
I pull away and I can’t help but ask, “Are you mad at me?”
My mom grabs my cheeks, looking right in my eyes. “Of course not. How can I be mad at you? You are my whole world. I’m just feeling your pain. I know how hard everything has been without Shane, and now you’re holding one more thing on your shoulders.”
She hugs me again and we sit and cry for what feels like hours. Once we separate and walk back toward the kitchen, we meet up with everyone else and sit down. At that point I look around, realizing that Ellie was right, my village is already formed. I am just missing one person, and I need to find a way to tell him.
* * *
I haven’t been to Shane’s house since before graduation. I never returned here because I knew he had left Nebraska. My only link to him is his mother, and I was hoping I could tell her it was urgent and plead for a phone number to call him. I needed to tell him I was pregnant. He deserved to know.
As I approach the house, I realize it looks empty. I stop the car at the curb and walk toward the front door. I notice it’s eerily quiet, and I begin to walk the perimeter of the house, looking into the windows to peer inside. That’s when I notice the furniture is no longer in the rooms I can see into. The house is vacant. And in many ways, my heart feels even more empty than it did before. How am I going to reach Shane now? I have no forwarding address, no phone number, nothing.
Right when I begin to turn around, Shane’s neighbor, Mr. Jamison calls out to me, “Hey, Becca. Looking for Mrs. Philips?”
I nod because the lump in my throat does not allow any sound to come out.
“Yeah, she sold the place off market and packed up about two weeks ago. It was pretty abrupt, but I also know she was ready to leave this little town after her son left.”
I am catching up on all this information he’s throwing at me. She just left? How does one do this? How could this be how things were unraveling around me?
“Did she happen to give any indication where she was going?” Mr. Jamison shakes his head.
“Unfortunately not, but I know she did forward her mail. No idea where it’s getting forwarded to, but you can always send a letter to this address, and it will get rerouted to her new address. I offered to grab any mail, and she told me she handled everything at the Post Office. That’s the only direction I can offer at the moment. I’m sorry Becca.”
I could see the look of pity across his face. I must have looked pitiful with this revelation. I felt lost, even more lost with this news than the news of my pregnancy.
I thank Mr. Jamison and walk back toward my car. Looking down at the ground, my shoulders hanging in defeat, I can feel my world crumbling again in fear of not getting a hold of Shane. I start my car and drive off, waving to Mr. Jamison as I drive along Shane’s old street, most likely for the last time. When I get home, I recall everything that happened, crying as I tell my mom, Beau, and Ellie all that I learned. They look as shocked as me, maybe even heartbroken with my news. I sit back in my seat and feel defeated.
“So, do you want help writing the letter?”
Beau is the first to talk. I look at him, confused. Then I realize that is my only option, and it might be the best way to get my words out to him. At least my letter can give me the ability to speak to him without breaking down. I nod at Beau, his offer so kind and genuine, I appreciate it immediately. I grab some paper and begin writing. After many alterations and crying breaks in between, I write Shane’s Nebraska address on the envelope, addressed to him, and put a stamp on it.
I feel like this envelope holds so much weight within each line of the paper. I poured my heart out and made sure he knew I hold no anger toward him and would like to simply talk to him as a first step. I also made it known that if he did not want to have any contact with the child, I would keep our baby and raise them on my own. I honestly did not see him taking that route, but I offered it.
Once I drop it off at the Post Office, I drive home and decide to figure out my next steps. I still plan on going to school in the fall, knowing all too well that I would have to take on a lighter load in school until I had a better grasp on becoming a mother. I did, however, hope I’d have the love of my life involved in this next step. Doing this without him wasn’t impossible, but it wasn’t how I envisioned becoming a mother to Shane’s child.
The weeks ahead feel like they drag. Each day, when the mailman comes through our neighborhood, I run to the mailbox. I try to fill my days packing, keeping my mind occupied with my move to New York, and rearrange my life so it would fit adding a baby to the mix. No one in town knows I am pregnant and since I’m not showing, I don’t have to explain much, as everyone knows my plans to attend NYU come the fall semester.
After a long discussion with my mother, we decide it would be best for her and Grant to move to the city with me. She was able to reach out to a friend she went to nursing school with who got her a job at a hospital in Manhattan, along with a good area to rent a decent-sized apartment for all of us. I opted out of living in the dorms, and this was a huge weight off my shoulders. Luckily, I saved some money in that area and could put that toward books and other supplies I’d need for the baby.
Paying for school was something my mother saved up for, as well as setting aside some of my father’s life insurance. She said he was always excited to see me go to medical school, and that he’d want me to use it in that way. It seems that all the pieces are falling into place, aside from the silence from Shane. That is weighing on me the most, and it feels like I have a piece of lead sitting in my belly each day my letter goes unanswered.
That all changes about a week before our move is scheduled. I receive a letter, mailed from Seattle. That surprised me, but I also knew his aunt lived in that area. Maybe that’s where he went after he left Nebraska. I don’t even wait to get inside the house, ripping the envelope as I walk toward the front door. I stop in my tracks as I read the letter, each word not just breaking my heart, but crushing it to pieces as I realize the person I loved was not at all who I thought he was.
Dearest Rebecca,
Thank you for your letter. I will admit, I am a bit shocked by this news. We were always so careful. And to hear this has happened after I’ve been gone for a while makes me wonder if this child is indeed mine. Have you gone to a doctor? Did they confirm the baby was conceived while I was still in Saddle Ridge?
In all honesty, no matter the answers to those questions, I am not in a place to be a partner to you, least of all a father at this time. I know we were together for so long, but I must say, we are just kids. We are not capable of making this work, with me being so far and now in the Navy. I am headed to training in the next few days and I cannot have this weighing on me. I wish you nothing but the best, and what we had is exactly that, in the past. I hope you know I appreciate you letting me know.
Please don’t try to contact me anymore. I have moved on in my life and I would urge you to do the same.
Sincerely,
