Forgotten Yesterday (10 page)

“No, I will,” I told her, tucking my phone into my back pocket.

Stepping up to the sink, I regarded the results without picking up the test that held my fate.

The double pink line laughed at me and I felt nothing.

It was surreal.

“Well?” Mara probed.

Gathering up the stick, I flipped it toward her so she could see for herself.

“Positive,” I said stoically. “Positive.”

“It could be a false positive,” she said, expressionless. “Take the other one.”

Mara handed me the box with the remaining test. I took it. I did like the first time. Peed. Waited. Looked.

When the second test was complete, the results were not surprising, but the impact was heavier. Reality had been doubled and shoved at me twice in the span of ten minutes.

Staring straight into me were two innocent pink lines that on their own were nothing more than a chemical reaction. But it was more than that. They were screaming that all of my plans were for nothing.
I was pregnant.

Everything that I had ever planned, ever prepared for, was over.

On the verge of a major meltdown, Mara grabbed me by the arm and led me down the hallway to our room. I went willingly, without a fight, in a dazed state of shock. My thoughts were spinning with so many things, like
How could this have happened?
,
Isn’t this just my luck?
,
Will Brent think this is my fault?
, and
What the fuck am I supposed to do?

We entered our room and then closed the door behind us and Mara took a seat on her bed. The bed was too—still. I began to pace the room, feeling her attention following me like a tennis match.

Every emotion fired at me all at once—loss, discomfort, panic, fear, and disbelief—and I was unable to stop moving. My body trembled and my feet just started moving of their own accord. I was pissed that this happened.
How did this fucking happen?

“How could this have happened?” I muttered to myself over and over as I continued to circle the length of the room, back and forth. “What am I going to do? Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Holy shit!” My arms flew up, full of tension, and I growled with frustration. “Damn. No. There goes my fucking future. My fucking scholarship! There goes everything. Fuck! Fuck me!”

“Rubes,” Mara consoled.

“What Mar?” I snapped. “Huh? What? You have answers? You know everything, right?”

“Calm down.” She raised her hands in a motion of surrender.

“Calm down?” I stopped, rubbing my hand slowly down my face, rocking in place. “Calm down! I can’t calm down. You don’t understand. This cannot happen to me. I can’t have a baby. I can’t. There’s no fucking way. I can’t. Oh my god! I can’t! You know how much shit I have going on right now?”

“Rubes,” she starts again.

“Don’t Rubes me, Mara.” I threw my hands into the air. “God, how could this happen?”

“Uh, you do know how babies are made, right?” she asked weakly. Her empathy resonated through the room.

“I’m not an idiot. Of course I do. That’s why I’m on the pill. Fuck. I take that thing religiously. Shit! Of course this happens to me. Fuck!”

Moving around the room some more, I was slammed with the weight of it all, again. I started to cry, muffling the word
No
into my hand, unable to get a grip on anything.

“What am I going to do?” I asked Mara and myself, behind my hands.

Her arms wrapped around me and I began to sob uncontrollably for what felt like an eternity. Flowing a river of tears for everything I had been working for, planning, and wanting. My future. All swept away at once.

She followed me down as I huddled myself into a ball on the floor. With the lightest touch, she consoled me by rubbing my back. 

“It’s going to be okay,” she whispered in a mantra for some time.

When the “ugly cry” began to let up, I sat back, huffing, and wiped away the wetness with the back of my shirt. Mara leaned across the room, pulled a bottle of water from the tiny refrigerator and handed it to me. I held it, unable to function any further.

“What do you want to do?” She questioned gently, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind my ear.

A little calmer, I stood back up and began to pace again. My erratic emotions wouldn’t stop running in circles around and into every nook and cranny of my brain. I may have cried and let it all go, but it was still there and it was too much to take and deal with at once. I had school, barely any money, no job, I was too young, and this was not the plan. I had everything coming together and now I didn’t know what I had.

I had Brent…

Opening the bottle of water, I sipped it to see if it would help. It didn’t.

“I don’t know,” I declared, exasperated. “I don’t know what I want to do.”

“You never thought about what you would do if this were to happen?”

“No,” I said incredulously. “I made sure this wouldn’t happen. I did everything right so it wouldn’t happen.”

She quietly nods her head.

“Mara,” I scolded. “We were careful. I’m not one of those girls trying to trap their boyfriend or some careless idiot.”

“All right.” She pushed herself up onto the bed. “Are you going to tell Brent?”

Pausing, I tried to gain composure. “Yes. Yes, I’m going to tell him. He needs to know.”

“What if he shits or freaks out?”

I fidget with the cap on the bottle to the water. “Then he freaks out, I guess. He should. I am. Look at me.”

“Do you think he’ll want to keep it?”

“I don’t know. Hell, I don’t even know what I want.”

“Don’t you think you should know before you tell him?” she asked insistently. “It might make it easier.”

“No,” I told her with finality. “He needs to know, no matter what. Trust me, Brent does not like to be kept in the dark about things and I’m not going to do that to him.”

It was going to suck telling him, but we would figure out what to do. This is one true thing I knew with sincerity and all of my heart. I may not have had the answers, but together we would do the right thing.

“When do you think you’ll tell him?” she asked slowly, drawing out her words.

I took another sip of water, put on the cap, and stepped toward the door. “Well, studying is definitely off the table and there’s no way I’m going to sleep…so, no better time than now.”

Placing my hand on the doorknob, I looked at Mara one last time before leaving.

“Thanks,” I said, shyly. We weren’t close before, but I felt a strong connection then. “For everything.”

“Absolutely. Good luck.”

Within the span of a few hours my entire reality had changed. It was time to share this truth with Brent. This wasn’t my issue or his…it was ours.

~Present~

Reaching into my shirt, I pull out the ruby charm hidden beneath the cotton fabric and run it side to side along the chain. I shove the image of Mara and I back into its pocket, slamming the book shut. Plopping back on the bed, I squeeze my eyes fiercely in an attempt to withhold the memory of what came next.

It’s no use.

Combing my fingers through my hair, I let the images take over.

~Past~

My lips twitched and the tears began to roll across my cheeks. I wiped them away, hoping a tearless face would be a braver one. I looked profoundly into Brent’s green-grey eyes, the same ones that spoke everything to my whole being at times when I needed it most. This was one of those times.
Please give me strength.

“Brent. I’m pregnant.”

Silence.

He stood vacant—unmoving.

More silence.

My pulse thrummed loudly in my ears, counting the seconds. There was no sound anywhere in his dorm. Not a hum or a footstep or even a breath. I stared into him, attempting to force some reaction with my gaze—any reaction at all. Nothing.

My mouth opened to speak, but nothing came. My body was shaking with all of the accumulating adrenaline and I was at a loss for words.
What is going on in his head?

“I…I,” I stuttered. “Brent?”

He raised his brows and slumped slightly. Then…he moved away from me, taking a step back toward the window and gazed out into the night.

I was left vacated, feeling the air more acutely as it cooled my damp lashes. Everything was empty and impossible with him not by my side. I was alone with no answers, with no one to hold me, and unsure of what my world would become.

The energy in the room was hollow and unnerving. I needed to leave. I couldn’t be in a room of silence—of rejection.

Quietly, I stepped to the door and opened it. Retreating.

“Ruby?”

I peered at Brent through glassy eyes and he stared back at me, mirroring the questions and the sadness.

“Yeah?” My voice quaked with every insecurity that I had ever had.

He projected fear, shock, and a lack of understanding. I knew that reaction. I was still experiencing it. It was still enduring.

Offering a tearful smile, I closed the door and went to stand beside him. His hands hung heavily at his sides.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yeah. I’m sure. I’m late and I took a test. Two, actually.” My lip quivered despite my efforts to be brave.

“What are we going to do?” he asked from behind closed lids.

The absolute unknown hit me all over again. Covering my face, I began to sob and blubbered out, “I don’t know.”

~Present~

Grunting, I sit up and take hold of the photo album.
It’s time to go all in.
I flip the page again to find one of the last images of Brent and I ever taken together. It was right before Thanksgiving during our freshman year at college. It’s the very last picture in the album.

There we were, two kids, barely even nineteen, with no idea of what our future would bring and a baby between us.

Eleven

Closing up the album, I plop backwards onto my bed. That was such a scary time of unknowns, uncertainty, and silence for both of us. We were just starting out and had to face a giant setback together. I had no idea what was the right thing to do. We barely talked for two weeks while sorting out our reality with a life changing decision ahead of us.

During all of the silence, I thought about what I really wanted, and having the baby was the choice that I kept coming back to. The thought of an abortion made me sick to my stomach. However, I also hated the feeling that Brent might feel trapped by my desire to have and keep the child. I never wanted to do that to him.

I was scared shitless by my instincts, but Brent took away that fear. We really were in this together and I knew in the depth my being that he would be the rock I needed. He always had been, before.

~Past~

Standing by our hometown lake over Thanksgiving break, tears began to trickle as I lost myself further and further into his embrace. My sobbing didn’t even surprise me—given the emotional mess I had been the past few weeks. Within the comfort of his arms, I felt nothing but safety and love. Everything just felt easier to handle with him.

Squeezing me tighter, if that was even possible, Brent said, “I can’t wait until we get back to school to talk about it.” He took in a huge inhale. “I know what I want and I’m not keeping it to myself any longer. I don’t want the abortion at all.”

Tightening my arms around him, I choked on my tears. “I don’t either. I want to have the baby too.”

“Thank god.” He pulled me into him—completely—tucking me into his chest. He was holding us…all three of us. He wanted us.

“Brent,” I began to sob. “Oh my god, are we really doing this?”

“Yeah,” he whispered. “We are.”

“Everything is going to change.”

~Present~

Sitting up, I grab the book filled with photos and make my way into the closet to bury it away, once again. I’m not sure why I’m tormenting myself with what could have been. It didn’t happen and that’s all that matters now. It didn’t work out.

Opening the bottom drawer, I throw the album into the pile of papers and trinkets. I begin to close it with my foot, but pause, catching a glimpse of the manila envelope tucked away from sight. My logical mind may not want look inside, but curiosity pulls me towards it.

Am I strong enough to see it again?

There’s only one way to find out.

I pull out the elusive package and take a seat on the floor, holding the weighty paper rectangle in my lap. I flip open the top and peer inside.

It’s just papers
.

No, it isn’t.

It’s everything.

My fingers move on their own, like they don’t belong to me, as they reach down between the fibrous folds, finding what they want. The thin, square, filmy paper, like a receipt, comes in contact with my hand and I draw it out slowly, careful not to damage it. Moving the folder aside, I gaze vacantly at the black, grey, and white image, unable to comprehend the shapes. I know what it is, but can’t allow myself to fully accept what was.

In the corner, I read my name and 8w 4d. This image was taken when I was a little over eight weeks pregnant to confirm my due date.

This little angel graced both of our lives that day.

~Past~

“So let’s take a look,” the blonde ultrasound tech said, while prepping me for the imaging.

Brent came to stand by my side as I nervously lay back on the paper-covered table. The tech talked through the whole process until the images showed up on the screen.

“And there’s your uterus,” she said, as Brent and I watched the monitor, intently.

She continued to adjust the wand, causing shapes to come and go quickly on the screen with every movement. She then stopped when a large circle appeared with a small, but undoubtedly, child like figure. In the center, of what I assumed was its belly, a quick-flashing circle pulsed. I gaped in awe at the figured as the tech clacked and drew lines.