Pregnant in Pennsylvania Page 8

  “I got a C on a test in Mr. Lakoda’s independent study.” She says this with utter shock, and no small amount of despair.

  I wait for the rest. “And?”

  “A C! I don’t get Cs, Mrs. Thomas! I’m not allowed to get Cs. I might as well have just gotten a zero!”

  “Tina, honey, it’s one C. It won’t affect your overall GPA. And I’m sure if you talk to him, Mr. Lakoda will let you get some extra credit to make up some of the difference. He taught Leslie too, so he’s well aware of the expectations your parents have.”

  “That doesn’t matter. I’ve already talked to him and I’m staying to help him grade freshmen algebra tests all next week for extra credit. That’s just not the point. Mom and Dad don’t accept Cs, not on homework, not on quizzes, not on tests. And he won’t let me retake it!”

  I sigh. “It’s a pretest, Tina. Mr. Lakoda doesn’t weighthose very much at all. It will be okay.”

  “YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND!” she wails. “If it’s not an A-plus in everything, it’s a failure. I’ve been accepted at Brown already, but me being able to go at all rides on maintaining perfect grades through graduation. Anything less than perfect, and they’ll just send me to Penn State or something. I have to get out of here, Mrs. Thomas. I know you understand.”

  Perfect grades, no exceptions. I remember very well Leslie making similar complaints.

  “Get the extra credit. Mr. Lakoda doesn’t do retakes and never has, so you’re out of luck there. But he’s generous with extra credit, so you’ll still be able to finish the year with a perfect grade in his class. So…just take a breath and do what you can, okay?”

  She lets out another shaky breath. “Okay.”

  I surreptitiously check the time: 3:54. I have to get Aiden soon—the youth league coach is obsessive about punctuality, and if a player is late, he doesn’t get as much playing time in the next game.

  “Is there anything else, Tina?”

  She nods, but hesitates. “I…I think Jake and I had…an accident.”

  I blink. “You…you think?”

  She nods. “I’m…late.”

  “Oh. Oh my.” I bite my lip. “Have you taken any tests?”

  She shakes her head. “No. Not…not yet. I’m too scared. And I don’t know how to get one anyway—at least, not without everyone knowing.” Her eyes widen. “I can’t do it, Mrs. Thomas. I just can’t. I can’t be stuck here! A single mom stuck in Clayton? My life would be over. Mom and Dad wouldn’t lift a finger to help. They’d call it getting what I deserve. You know that’s true so don’t try to bullshit me.”

  I wince, biting my lip. “Yeah, I know.”

  “What do I do? They won’t help. They won’t approve of me…” She shrugs, trails off meaningfully. “…fixing it, either.”

  “No, probably not.”

  “So…what do I do?”

  “What about your sister?”

  Tina frowns. “What about her?”

  I hesitate, and then out a long sigh. “Look, Tina—as a counselor and an adult, I feel obligated to present all the options to you. But…I’m also a single mom in Clayton, okay? Your life won’t be over. You may have to put some things on hold, and come up with a new plan, but your life wouldn’t be over. And, speaking as a mom, it’s the most incredible and rewarding thing you’ll ever do. It’s hard, yes, and it feels impossible sometimes, yes…especially if you’re doing it without a husband or boyfriend, but—”

  “Your parents help you, Mrs. Thomas. They care. Mine would see this as me being a failure and they’d want nothing to do with me or the baby—ever.”

  “Tina, listen—I know. Okay? I know. I know very well what your parents are like. I do. But there are other avenues for help. If Jake wouldn’t step up, there are other good guys in this town.” I sigh. “I just…I have to make you aware of that option. Keeping it, I mean assuming you’re actually pregnant.”

  She winces at the word, and tears streak down her cheeks all over again. “Pregnant,” she breathes.

  I nod. “But, as someone who’s been a teenager stuck in Clayton, I get it. But I also get…the other side. And I know how your parents are, and I get how hard it would be to raise a kid alone in this town.”

  “Hard? Try impossible.”

  “So, having presented the option of keeping it, there are other options.”

  “I just don’t see how. I have no money, Jake won’t be any help so there’s no point even involving him—”

  I fix her a stern look. “Tina. You have to tell him. He has a right to know. Even if he reacts as you expect, you owe it to him to tell him. That’s nonnegotiable.”

  She winces, but nods. “I know. I will.”

  “Promise me you’ll talk to him?”

  “I promise.”

  “Okay. Well, I know there’s not exactly a lot of love lost between Leslie and your parents…”

  Tina snorts derisively. “You can say that again. She comes back once a year for Christmas and New Year, and it’s tense and awkward and she takes off again as soon as she can, and I don’t see her coming back at all once I’m out of their house.” She frowns. “You think she’d help me?”

  I nod. “She’s enough older than you that if you go into Baltimore or Washington or even Harrisburg, a clinic wouldn’t ask too many questions as long as you had an adult with you signing off like she’s your mom.”

  “What about the money?” Tina asks. “She’s not exactly rolling in it.”

  “She’d help. And Jake has been working at Caldwell Automotive for a couple years now, and he has a responsibility to you, and to this situation.” I sigh. “I hate this for you, Tina. I really do. I’m a mom, and the thought of not having Aiden?” I shudder, shake my head. “But I understand your situation, and that you feel you may not have another viable option. And I want to see you handle this situation safely and responsibly.”

  “Responsibly would have been not letting this happen in the first place,” she mutters. “I feel so stupid.”

  “Well…” I sigh, because there’s no arguing with that logic. “Just…learn from it?”

  “Yeah, I guess.” She tries a smile. “Thanks, Mrs. Thomas.”

  “It’s what I’m here for.” She hesitates. “Is there anything else?”

  Tina shrugs. “Would…would you—I’m scared to call Leslie. Could you just…sit here with me?”

  I nod, smiling. “Of course, honey.”

  So, I sit while Tina calls Leslie, and I listen and offer encouraging smiles as Tina haltingly explains the situation to her older sister, who works in communications in Boston. Leslie is stunned, and then upset, and then agrees to help Tina resolve the situation in any way she can.

  By this time it’s four fifteen, and Aiden is super late for practice. He may even end up missing it entirely.

  Tina ends the call, and sits fiddling with her phone. “Um, what about Jake?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “How…how do I tell him?”

  “Just sit somewhere private with him and tell him the facts.”

  “He’ll blame me.”

  “And if he does, he’s an asshole,” I say. “Because it takes two, if you know what I mean.”

  She smiles. “Yeah, that’s true.”

  “Just tell him, Tina. Don’t drag it out, don’t wait. Go find him right now, tell him you have to talk to him.”

  “He’s at football practice.”

  “So wait till it’s over. But do it today.” I glance at her. “Although, you should probably take a test to be absolutely certain. It is possible to just miss periods. Stress especially can do that.”

  “I don’t think it’s stress.” She smiles faintly. “But it’s a nice thought.”

  “Take the test while Jake is at practice.”

  “If I get a test at the pharmacy, Mr. Van Hess will tell everyone.”

  I wince. “True. Mr. Van Hess is a card-carrying member of the Clayton Busybody Society.”

  Tina chuckles at that. “
He’s the worst of them, I think. I love that name for them. Lisa and Taylor and I call them the Gossip Gang.”

  I snicker. “That’s a good one. I think everyone has their own name for them.” I consider, and then an idea springs on me as Cora walks by my office with a stack of papers. “Cora!”

  She glances at me, and I wave her in.

  “What’s up, buttercups?” Cora says in a singsong. She glances at Tina. “Why the long face, Brokaw? I have your pretest here, and you’ll be pleased to know you scored a hundred and six percent.”

  I glance at Tina. “I have an idea. Cora has been my best friend my whole life, and I trust her implicitly. The question is, do you trust me?”

  Cora’s eyes narrow. “Are we wiling?”

  I frown at her. “Are we what?”

  “Wiling. Using our womanly wiles.” She wiggles her eyebrows. “I heard you and Jake broke up and I thought maybe we were conspiring to get him back by homecoming.”

  I shake my head. “Nothing so fun as that, unfortunately.” I glance at Tina again. “Yes or no?”

  Tina nods. “Yes.” She looks up at Cora, and then the door; Cora nudges the door closed and sits on the edge of my desk.

  “Ohh,” Cora breathes. “This is something serious.”

  Tina nods, and Cora’s eyes fly wide.

  “You’re pregnant?” Cora guesses.

  Tina nods again. “I—I think so.”

  “You think?”

  “That’s where you come in, Cora. She needs a test, but if she goes into the pharmacy…”

  “Mr. Van Hess will have the whole town talking about it in under five minutes,” Cora finishes.

  “Exactly. He’d also start talking if I got one.”

  Cora nods, following my logic. “But he wouldn’t bat an eye if I did. He’d assume I let one of the town drunks knock me up.”

  “Mrs. Pearson!” Tina says, laughing with shock.

  “Everyone always assumes the worst about me, Tina,” Cora says, waving a hand. “I’m used to it.” She smiles at the distraught girl. “I’d be glad to use my black sheep status to get you a pregnancy test.”

  “Thank you,” Tina whispers.

  Cora wraps her up in a hug. “It’ll be okay. Come on, let’s do this. You can use my bathroom.”

  “Come in and talk to me tomorrow, after you talk to Jake, okay?” I say to Tina.

  She nods. “I will.” She sniffles. “Thanks, Mrs. Thomas. You’re the best.”

  “I’m here if you need me, Tina. Always. Even when you’re not a student anymore, okay?”

  Another nod, and then Cora and Tina are headed out of the main office, which is empty except for Alice Frank, a para-pro, who’s making copies in the copy room.

  It’s four thirty, and now that Tina’s crisis has been handled, I fly into motion, shutting down and locking up my office and power-walking to my car. I rush over to the elementary, where there are only two kids left on the playground with Mrs. Emory, the latchkey program supervisor, watching over them.

  Aiden is not at the playground, and I’m low-key panicking.

  Mrs. Emory sees me and hurries over. “Ah, Elyse! I was getting worried about you! You’re never this late.”

  “I had a last-minute student crisis,” I explain, peering past her at the playground, scanning for Aiden. “Where’s Aiden?”

  “Oh, he was getting really upset about being late for football practice, so Mr. Trent walked him over to the field. I think he tried calling you, but you didn’t answer.”

  I haul my phone out of my purse and see I have three missed calls from the school, and a voicemail—I listen to it:

  “Hi, Elyse, this is Jamie Trent, principal at the elementary school.” His smooth voice is all business. “Aiden is here with the latchkey kids, but he’s getting pretty antsy to get over to football practice. The field is just over behind the administrative building—but you know that, obviously. Anyway, I’m going to walk him over there. He said he’d have to sit out an entire quarter of his next game if he’s late, and I wouldn’t want that for him, and I know you wouldn’t either. I know how last-minute meetings can be. So…hopefully you get this message and call me back. I’ll be at the field until you get there.”

  Instead of calling him back, I thank Mrs. Emory and then drive from the elementary over to the practice field parking lot, which is on the far side of the school complex acreage. I see the kids in their huge pads and oversized helmets lining up and practicing plays, with Coach Barnhart yelling direction and encouragement and criticism from one side. There’s a little quarter-stand of bleachers on this side of the fence, and the bleachers are filled with parents watching their kids practice. I spy Jamie by himself, arms resting on the fence, watching the practice.

  Shoot, shoot, shoot.

  Now I have to talk to him.

  I leave my car, hike my purse onto my shoulder, and cross over to stand beside Jamie.

  “Thank you for bringing him over,” I say.

  Jamie grins at me. “Oh, no problem. I didn’t want to be presumptuous or whatever, but Aiden was getting really upset at the prospect of being late.”

  I laugh, nodding. “He’s the team captain, and their star catcher and runner. He takes his responsibility as team captain very seriously.”

  Jamie chuckles. “Receiver and running back,” he corrects.

  “Same thing.” I eye him. “Did you play?”

  He nods. “Yep. Third grade all the way through college.”

  “Really? What position?”

  “Quarterback.”

  “Were you good?”

  He shrugs. “I did okay. I had plans for my life that didn’t include football, so once college was over, that was it.” A glance at me. “Your son is very good.”

  I smile. “He is, isn’t he? He loves it. I’m just scared of him getting hurt.”

  “Eh, he’ll be fine. The training and equipment is getting better every year.” He eyes me again. “Elyse, I—”

  I cut in over him. “Jamie, please. What happened, happened. It was…” I blink, hunt for something to say. “I really had a great time with you. But you’re…you’re my son’s principal, and we work in the same school district, and…I’m a single mom. I can’t—I can’t afford…”

  “Distractions.” Jamie’s voice is carefully neutral.

  “Right.”

  “You didn’t have to sneak out.”

  “I woke up, and…” I shrug. “I didn’t want to make things awkward.”

  He laughs. “A little late for that.”

  I laugh, too. “Yeah, I guess so. You could’ve knocked me over with a feather when I realized you were the new principal.”

  Jamie nods. “Yeah, it was…unexpected.” He laughs. “Shouldn’t have been too much of a shock, though, considering how small this town is.”

  “True, I just wasn’t expecting to literally bump into you.”

  Awkward silence. Part of me wants to say more. Wants to talk about that night. Another part of me wants to run, to cut this conversation short and avoid him forever.

  He’s seen me naked.

  He’s touched me, intimately.

  He’s been inside me.

  He’s slept beside me.

  And yet, in some ways, he’s a total stranger.

  And a coworker.

  And my son’s principal.

  I’ll have to see him every day.

  “Thank you again for bringing him here. I had a student come in with a crisis right as I was leaving.”

  “Did you get the crisis resolved?”

  I shrug. “Mostly. As much as I could manage in the moment.”

  Another long, awkward silence as we watch Aiden and his team practice a play where the quarterback throws the ball to Aiden, who’s supposed to run it downfield.

  “Elyse, about…us.” He glances at me as he says that last word.

  “Jamie…” I hesitate. “I think maybe it’d be best if we just let it be.”

  He sighs. “If tha
t’s what you want, then okay.”

  “It’s more about what’s best. For Aiden, especially.”

  He nods. “Yeah, okay. I get that.” He pats the fence, smiles tightly at me. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning at drop-off?”

  “Yep. Assuming I can get Aiden out the door on time.”

  Jamie chuckles. “Kids can be tricky like that. Getting them all to come in from recess is always interesting.”

  “I bet.”

  Jamie waves at me, and the moment is…supremely awkward. “Bye, Elyse.”

  “Bye, Jamie.”

  He’s gone, then, sauntering across the field toward the elementary school, arms swinging loosely, sun outlining his broad shoulders and strong frame.

  He’s handsome. And kind. Loves children. He’s thoughtful. Goes out of his way to take care of people.

  He was a considerate, generous, amazing lover, and I can’t stop thinking about it.

  But…

  Daniel seemed to be all that at the beginning too. Mostly.

  Some of it anyway.

  And then he just…left. It was inevitable, after a certain point, but whose fault was that? Mine? His? Both of ours? I don’t know. I just know the idea of trusting someone else is…almost impossible to even consider.

  I just can’t.

  Aiden already sees Jamie every day in the role of principal—how could I even begin trying to introduce him as my boyfriend?

  God, just the thought of having a “boyfriend” is beyond bizarre. I haven’t had a boyfriend in…fifteen years? How do you even do that? When is the right time to introduce your boyfriend to your impressionable eight-year-old son? Especially when said boyfriend is said eight-year-old’s principal—how does that work?

  It doesn’t.

  It can’t.

  I push Jamie out of my mind and focus on Aiden, who’s making catch after catch, run after run. Practice ends, and Aiden runs up to me with his helmet in his hand, his pads still on, his practice jersey grass stained, and his hair sweaty.

  “Mom! Did you see me? Coach says I totally crushed it today!”

  “I watched, buddy! You were doing great! You made pretty much every catch!”

  “I practice catching during recess. Coach says I have the makings of a star receiver. He says I might even break some records, if I practice hard.”

  “I have absolutely no doubt that you will, baby.” I smile at him. “Go get your pads off and meet me at the car. Grandma made lasagna for dinner tonight.”