Dancing Naked (12 page)

Kia was surprised to see her mom’s car in the driveway when she arrived home the following day. She found her sitting alone in the family room.

“Where’s Angie?”

“I haven’t picked her up yet,” her mom answered. “I wanted a chance to talk to you alone.”

“Oh, okay,” Kia said, avoiding her mother’s eyes as she dropped her book bag on a chair and pulled open the fridge door in the kitchen. “What do you want to talk about?”

“I think you can figure that out.”

Kia grabbed a container of yogurt and a spoon and then returned to the family room. She sat across the room from her mom. “I guess you want to talk about my baby.”

Her mom nodded but didn’t say anything else. She just watched absently as Kia ate.

“Well?” Kia asked finally. “What exactly do you want to talk about?”

Her mother cleared her throat, seeming to drag herself back to the present. “I’m glad you chose not to have that abortion.”

Kia looked up, surprised. “Really?”

Her mom nodded, studying her fingers. “I didn’t want to say anything around Dad. There’s stuff he doesn’t know.”

Kia sat very still, watching her mom.

“As you know, honey, I grew up in a religious family in the Philippines.”

Kia nodded.

“But my dream was always to emigrate to Canada and start a new life.”

“And you did.”

“I did. But I almost didn’t.”

“How come?”

“Because I got pregnant.”

“Oh.” Kia’s eyes grew wide. “You don’t have to tell me this stuff, Mom.”

“Actually, I do. It’s been eating away at me for years. And when you said you were pregnant, the horror of it all came rushing back.”

Kia put the yogurt container down and sat back,
A curling her legs beneath her. She waited patiently for her mom to continue.

“I’d grown up believing, as everyone in my community did, that abortion was a sin.”

Kia nodded.

“But I wanted so desperately to move to Canada. It was all I thought about for years, since the oldest sister of one of my friends moved here and used to write letters home about Canada, describing her new life. It sounded like such an adventure. I was counting the days till I could go too.”

Kia’s mom twisted her wedding band around and around on her finger while she talked. “When I told my boyfriend that I was pregnant, he thought we should get married right away. But he wanted to stay in the Philippines, with his family. He was training to be a police officer, and there was a good job waiting for him when he was done.”

Kia nodded, fascinated by her mother’s story.

She continued, speaking slowly and deliberately. “It was a horrible time for me. I knew that if I married him and had that baby I would never get to Canada. But not marrying him was not an option because I was pregnant.” She paused. “So, I never told my boyfriend what I decided to do. I found a doctor willing to do an abortion—a difficult thing in those days—and went ahead with it. I didn’t tell anyone what I had done, I just said I had miscarried. It was awful. I had nightmares and the guilt was devastating.”

“But you made it to Canada,” Kia said gently. “You met Dad and had us. So aren’t you glad you did what you did?”

Kia’s mom nodded, but she looked on the verge of
tears. “Everything did turn out the way I planned. And even though your dad and I have found a new spiritual home, one that embraces our different beliefs, the lessons from my childhood are still firmly embedded. Abortion still feels wrong to me on an emotional level, although I can certainly justify it in an intellectual way.”

Kia nodded. “Why didn’t you tell Dad about this?”

“I don’t really know. I guess I hoped that if I buried the guilt deep enough it would go away.” She shook her head. “It doesn’t. And when it resurfaces it hurts almost as much as it did in the beginning.”

Kia got up, crossed the room and sat beside her mom. “So why are you telling me?” she asked quietly.

Her mom sighed deeply. “I find it so strange that you’ve followed in my footsteps this way. I can’t help but think it’s more than coincidence.”

“I didn’t even know about you!” Kia argued.

Her mom nodded. “I know. But at one time I would have thought that your getting pregnant was my punishment.”

“Oh, Mom. You don’t believe that stuff anymore.”

“Not in my head. No.” She tapped her temple. “But the stuff you learn in your childhood has a way of staying in your heart a long time. Possibly forever.”

“Well, Mom, trust me,” Kia said, smiling a little. “I got pregnant all by myself. Well, actually, not all by myself,” she blushed, “but you had nothing to do with it.”

Mrs. Hazelwood reached out and ran a finger down her daughter’s cheek. “Deep down I know that,” she said, clasping her hands together and putting them in her lap, “but I needed to share my story with you.” There was
a long silence, and Kia couldn’t remember when she’d ever felt so close to her mom.

“But speaking of Derek ...”

“What about him?” Kia rolled her eyes.

“You told us that this was none of his business.”

“It isn’t.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, honey. It’s as much his baby as it is yours.”

“Yeah, right, Mom. You didn’t think that when you made your decision ...” Kia stopped, immediately regretting her words.

“That’s just my point, Kia.” The tone of her mother’s voice had changed, losing the warmth of the moment before and beginning to sound authoritative again. “He did deserve to know. That’s a big part of the guilt I’m feeling.”

“It’s different with me.” Kia moved away from her mother on the couch. “Derek’s had his say. He wanted me to abort it. That tells me he wants nothing to do with it.”

“You can’t leave him out of this, Kia. It’s his responsibility too. Have you told him yet?”

“Not yet,” she sighed. “I haven’t had the chance.”

“Then you better make the chance. And you better do it soon.”

Kia realized that the intimate mood they’d just shared was lost. They were back to being mother and daughter again. Sighing, she picked up her yogurt container and spoon and left the room.

Kia could hear the sounds of crying from outside when she stopped by Angie’s daycare to pick her up. When a
preschooler opened the door, the noise got even louder.

“Oh hi, Kia,” said Mrs. Jacobs. She came rushing down the hall with one of the crying babies on her hip. “We’re having one of those days around here.”

“What’s the matter?” Kia asked, shutting the door behind her.

“Oh, they’re mostly sympathy cries,” the woman said calmly. “One or two of them aren’t feeling well and their crying sets everyone else off. Here, could you hold Kade?” she asked, passing Kia the baby without waiting for an answer. “I’ll help Angie collect her things.”

But the baby did not want to be held by Kia. His wails grew even louder as Mrs. Jacobs headed back down the hall. Kia clung onto the squirming bundle, but felt repulsed by the stream escaping from his nose. She tried to position him so none of it would rub onto her, but with his thrashing, it was hard. She found it difficult to believe that this was the same passive little guy she’d played peek-a-boo with when she’d come by yesterday.

She felt a tug on her jacket and looked down. The boy who had opened the door was looking up at her. “Can you help me with this puzzle?” he asked, holding out a handful of wooden pieces.

“I can’t right now,” Kia said. “Maybe another day.” But then she watched in alarm as his eyes too filled with tears. His face crumpled up, and then another wail was added to the commotion.

Mrs. Jacobs returned with Angie and yet another sobbing baby in her arms. “This one just needs a diaper change,” she explained, noting Kia’s expression. “Not to worry.”

Angie tugged on her shoes and picked up her backpack.

“See you tomorrow, Angie,” Mrs. Jacobs said as they headed out through the door. She stood on the landing watching them go, a baby on each hip.

“See ya,” Angie answered, not even turning to wave. She began to walk quickly, leaving Kia behind.

“How does Mrs. Jacobs manage when everyone cries?” Kia asked, following her sister down the sidewalk.

Angie didn’t answer. She just kept walking.

Kia sighed. “Why don’t we talk about it?” she suggested, working to keep up. She’d been unable to penetrate Angie’s stony silence since she’d broken the news of her pregnancy to her. True to her word, she’d picked Angie up every day after school, but Angie acted like she’d rather Kia hadn’t.

Angie shook her head and kept walking. Kia was just about to try another approach when the sound of squealing tires rounding the corner behind them made her stop and turn. She tensed. The racket of the boom box in the approaching gray car was way too familiar. She turned and starting walking faster, urging Angie to keep up.

Derek pulled up beside them, leaned across the seat and pushed open the passenger door.

“Hop in, ladies,” he said.

“No thanks.” Kia put her arm around Angie’s shoulder and kept walking.

The car kept pace with them, the door still swinging open. “I said hop in, Kia,” he repeated, a hard edge in his voice.

“And I said no thanks,” Kia replied, pushing Angie ahead of her.

“Okay,” Derek said, “have it your way. You walk, I
drive. But we talk.” Derek had one hand on the steering wheel but was leaning toward the open door. He had to shout to be heard above the music. “I just came to find out how everything went last week.”

Kia kept walking, staring straight ahead. She didn’t want to have this conversation in front of Angie.

“I asked you a question,” he shouted.

Kia stopped. It seemed the chance her mom had referred to was here. She fished around in the bottom of her book bag, looking for her house key. “Go on ahead,” she told Angie, handing it to her. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Angie studied Derek with her serious brown eyes. She turned to Kia and shook her head.

“It’s okay, Angie,” Kia said. “I’ll get rid of him.”

Angie didn’t move.

“Really, Angie. I’ll be right behind you.”

Angie hesitated, shrugged and then walked slowly up the sidewalk. Kia watched her for a moment and then reluctantly climbed into Derek’s car. She left the door open for a quick escape. “We’ll talk right here. Shut it off.”

Derek regarded her, considering her request. He took too long. Kia began to climb out of the car.

“Okay already. Get back in.” He put the car in park, turned off the engine, but left the music playing. He flung his arm over the back of the seat. Kia climbed back in, pulled her door shut and then leaned over and shut off the stereo.

“Testy, aren’t we,” he commented.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“I’m just checking up on you. How did it go?”

Kia knew he wasn’t concerned about her. He was just making sure she’d gone through with the abortion.
It crossed her mind, fleetingly, that she shouldn’t be alone with him when he found out. She turned and studied him. The pale blue eyes were hard and cold, but this was the guy she’d thought she loved not so long ago. Somewhere deep inside of him he must still have feelings for her too. It would be okay.

“New shirt?” she asked, noticing the Hilfiger crest on his chest. She shook her head and smiled to herself. She could almost hear the swarm of bees in the back of her mind ...

“What’s the joke?” he asked, watching her carefully.

“Last week went fine,” she said, ignoring his question. “For the baby. I’m still pregnant.”

She watched his face. It took him a moment to understand what she’d said. Finally, she could see the truth register. “You didn’t have it?” he asked, incredulously.

“That’s right. I’m still pregnant.”

“Why the hell didn’t you have it?!”

“I couldn’t go through with it,” she said. There was no point trying to explain her feelings to him. He’d never understand.

“I knew I should have gone with you,” he said, his voice trembling with anger. He turned the key in the ignition. “We have to go make another appointment.”

Kia reached for the door handle, but he flung the car into gear and squealed away from the curb before she could get it open.

“Let me out, Derek! I can’t leave Angie alone.”

Derek pressed harder on the accelerator. There was a red light at the next intersection, so he was forced to slow down and then stop. Kia desperately hoped the light would
stay red. She still had her hand on the door handle, but the light turned green almost immediately. Kia yanked up on the handle anyway and pushed the door open with her shoulder. Derek reached over and grabbed for her jacket, but she pulled herself loose and quickly hopped out of the car. She turned and kicked the door shut.

There were no other vehicles coming, so Kia stood at the side of the road and waited to see what Derek would do next. Keeping his eyes firmly locked on hers, he threw the car into reverse and squealed backwards. Before she could react, she found the car bearing down on her. At the last moment Derek yanked on the steering wheel and veered away. In her alarm, Kia jumped backwards and tripped on the curb. The next thing she knew she felt herself hitting the pavement.

“Are you all right?” asked a woman walking along the sidewalk with a small boy.