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She’s wrong. If anything, I’m desperate for her to have my child. Nothing would make me happier than seeing Jess, swollen and heavy, my son or daughter in her belly.
But what do I do now? And where is she? There’s no way she would go back to her low-life father, seeing that he basically sold her to me. But where would she go? Suddenly, I drop to the bed to sit lifelessly. The woman I love has left me, and my heart cracks open with pain.
9
Jessalyn
* * *
It’s been a week since I left Cameron’s home to return to the trailer park, and it’s been the worst week of my life. Daddy is nowhere to be found, but I guess it’s because of his new job. When I walked in the trailer, there was a note taped to the fridge, explaining that Mirabelle is in Arizona, and that he’s moved out there for the time being.
He’ll probably be fired within a week and back at the trailer soon enough, but I can’t think about that. I have too much to be worried about already, and Randy is an adult, so I put my dad out of my mind.
As a result, I’ve spent the majority of my time moping, alone in the shadowy depths of the trailer. Without my job at the diner, I have nowhere to go. I suppose I could walk to the library to check out a book, but I can’t walk that far with a queasy stomach, and I don’t want to run the risk of Cameron seeing me in town either.
Cameron.
Being away from him is difficult, and I didn’t expect it to be. I left my phone on the nightstand before leaving the mansion because really, it belongs to him. That first week at his house, he presented me with a fancy new iPhone with all the latest features. I gasped because usually I use an old beater, but he said to take it and enjoy it. The monthly bills are also paid by him.
But I couldn’t take it when I left. It belongs to him, just like all the clothes and lingerie. Just like the gifts of perfume, and the silk robes, and the luxury bath items. They belong to him, and now that I’ve exited that phase of my life, I had to leave it behind.
But now, I have nowhere to go, no one to talk to, and no means of communication. I’ve chitchatted a bit with our neighbors in the trailer park, but it’s nothing serious. Absolutely no one knows about the pregnancy, and it’s a difficult secret to keep. I feel scared by the prospect of becoming a mother, and yet also strangely elated despite the fact that I have no idea how I’m going to make this work. Sometimes, I look at the paper to scan the “Help Wanted” section, and yet, how can I work if I’m heavily pregnant? How can I work if I have a newborn clinging to my breast?
I have to find a way to make money, and my heart contracts a bit with panic. I can’t wait until after the baby’s born because I need to see the obstetrician now, which will only cost more money since we don’t have insurance. The stress is starting to take its toll on me, but I’m not sure what to do. Plus, I feel more nauseated with each day that goes by, and I’ve barely eaten anything all week. It’s a drastic change from my previously hearty appetite, and it can’t be good when you’re pregnant.
There’s got to be something I can do. I have to find something to do. I have to find a way to make money without Cameron. I wonder what Randy is going to do when he finds out there will be a baby sharing the trailer with us. Probably kick me out, come to think of it.
I look at my surroundings hopelessly. Right now I’m sitting on the “couch” that’s nothing but dirty old worn out sofa cushions from a thrift store in town. The trailer is dingy and dirty and full of empty beer bottles. There’s nothing in the fridge or cabinets to eat since Randy hasn’t been around, but luckily I found a stash of forty dollars the other night tucked in one of the kitchen drawers. I bought a pizza last night and ate only one slice, saving the rest in the fridge. It’s enough to live on while I figure out how to survive.
Yet, it’s hard to focus on anything that doesn’t involve Cameron, and I realize it’s because my heart is still with him. My heart will always probably be with Cameron, as he’s the only man who ever cared for me. I’m used to men like Randy, who see me as a burden, and that’s not the kind of person I want around my baby. I let out a deep sigh and place my face in my hands. Should I confront the father of my child?
