Mary stayed quiet as we drove downtown. I reached over and gave her hand a squeeze, but didn’t press her to speak.
We walked up the steps of the gray building and into the reception area. As she checked in, I took in the disheveled waiting room. Worn and tattered furniture, magazines strewn on every table, and posters tacked against the walls couldn’t hide its stains and scuffs. A musty odor permeated the crowded room. If this reflected the abilities of the medical staff, we were in trouble. I found two seats in the back corner and sat down.
After a short wait, a nurse summoned Mary. We hugged, and I told her to be strong. She smiled weakly and disappeared behind a door.
I read through the parade of colorful posters. They each had a message, mostly about birth control and the consequences of not using it. I shuddered. Terrified of getting pregnant, Pete and I had been careful. I never wanted to experience what Mary endured right this minute. We were too young to be making decisions about babies or abortions. What choice would I make or how would Pete react if a baby came into the picture? I grabbed a fashion magazine from the stack on the table and opened it, determined to take my mind off the situation.
I yawned, stretched and glanced at the clock for the twentieth time. Mary had been gone hours. My heart ached for her. And where was Jake? He should be sitting next to me in the waiting room, supporting her. After all, he was half responsible for this mess. I called to mind her tearful retelling of her conversation with Jake, and how he first acted like the baby wasn’t his, then blamed her, saying she’d been irresponsible and that it was her problem. Ever since, he’d distanced himself, making her worst nightmare come true. Creep! I picked up another meaningless magazine, flipping the flimsy pages with purpose.
Between the procedure and the time it took the anesthesia to wear off, four hours passed before Mary could leave. Relief flooded me when she limped into the waiting area, until I got a close-up view of her ashen complexion and miserable expression.
“Are you okay?” What a dumb-ass thing to say.
She nodded, almost imperceptibly.
I helped her outside and into the car. Once back in the driver’s seat, I turned to her. “Are you sure you’re alright? You’re so pale.”
“They said everything went fine, but I am not okay by any stretch. That’s the worst, most awful thing I’ve ever experienced.”
I rubbed her shoulder. “I am so, so sorry.”
“I just killed my baby,” she whispered, a sob catching in her throat.
“You did the only thing you could.” Right? I doubted any words could console her.
“Get me out of here, please.”
I drove Mary home and helped put her to bed, explaining to her mother how she’d suddenly taken ill. A lie and yet, still true. I felt sick myself when I got back in the car. I headed straight to Pete’s, searching for comfort.
“Hey! This is a surprise…wait, is something wrong?” he said.
I nodded. “Mary’s going through something tough, and I feel horrible about it.”
Pete pulled me close, wrapping his arms around me. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Just hold me.”
We stood there quietly, wrapped around each other, and I burrowed my face into his chest. I loved Pete’s scent, and the combination of that with his shirt’s freshly laundered smell was perfect, like going to bed after a crappy day. I let go.
“Current sadness aside, how does it feel to be free again?”
I smiled, peeking up at his face. “Fan-fucking-tastic.”
“I guess you won’t be crashing your parent’s car anytime soon.” Pete chortled. “In fact, why don’t I just drive us for the next foreseeable future?”
“Wise-ass. I’m a good driver!”
“That may be so, but you’re still a mere neophyte compared to me, I’m afraid.”
I rolled my eyes. “What did I do to ever deserve you, your highness?”
“I’m sure I don’t know.”
I reached out to sock his arm, but he sprinted up the walk and into the house, laughing all the way. I chased after him.
His sister shrieked when she saw me and threw her arms around my waist. Mrs. O’Reilly also greeted me with a warm hug.
“Thank heavens you’re here,” she whispered. “Between you and me, Pete has been so cranky these past few weeks. How are you?”
“Things are better. I’m sure you heard about the car.”
“I did. How unfortunate. I’m just glad no one was hurt.”
“Me, too.”
Mrs. O’Reilly grasped both of my arms with her hands, giving them a squeeze. “These little mishaps do happen. You just have to be careful out there, sweetie.”
I nodded. She was so much nicer than my own parents. Why couldn’t she be my mother? “What are you cooking? It smells delicious.”
“Lasagna. Join us for dinner. It’s going to be fun—we’ve got a full house tonight with my sister and her family joining us.”
“I’d love to.” I called home. My mother answered and I mouthed an unspoken thank you. I assured her I was fine and explained how I ended up at Pete’s house. She gave me permission to stay but imposed an early curfew of ten o’clock. I didn’t mind. Maybe my mom wasn’t so bad after all.
It was a normal, uneventful evening, exactly what I needed. After an hour of energetic dinner conversation and a belly full of comfort food, Pete, his older cousins and I headed to the rec room to watch The Godfather. Pete sat on the sofa, and I crawled on
