Hello Loved Ones (43 page)

“I want to know if you love me! We’re supposed to be in love. That’s how it was supposed to happen.”

“So you want me to marry you, is that it?”

“What do
you
want?”

“I sure as hell don’t want to get married while I’m still in high school! And if you say you do you’re crazy.”

“I just don’t know how you could…” she stopped, not knowing what to call what they did. Had sex. Made love. Or, the worse,
fucked
. “How you could…do
that
with a person and then just disappear?”

His eyes searched the sand dunes, the parking lot, looking at anything but her. “I should have come sooner. I wanted to. But I didn’t want you to think…” he trailed off.

“What?”

“I didn’t want you to expect too much.”

Oh. She
was
a fool.

“I told you I didn’t want a girlfriend. You knew that!”

“That was before you...” There was that damn word again. “Oh, what do you call it?” she asked, exasperated. “What do you call what we did?”

He looked at her strangely. So he thought she was a lunatic. So he was finding out he didn’t like her at all. Didn’t she know it would happen?

“You mean in casual conversation?” he said. “Like when I’m chatting with your dad?”

“You don’t have to be sarcastic. I just want to know, what was it to you? Sex? A quick lay? Were we making love?”

He groaned. “God no. We’re teenagers. We were screwing around, that’s all.”

That’s
all
.

“I’ll tell that to the kid,” she said.

“For
chrissake
, I’m sorry! God, my parents are going to kill me!”

It seemed he might cry. Sally didn’t expect that.

“You don’t love
me
, do you?” he asked suddenly.

Or that.

“What if I do? What if I said I loved you the minute I saw you behind the counter at the Texaco? What if I said we should get married?”

She didn’t mean it! But please, for
once
, couldn’t she be the one to walk away?

“I’d say your hormones have got you thinking all crazy-like,” he said. “You don’t know anything about me.”

As if that was all love was! Knowing facts or history. She didn’t know much about her father either, but—she saw it now—she loved him. The shock of it was electric, especially since the person she was thinking about was Richard. All the years she’d spent wanting him must have somehow changed her cells, until he truly was a part of her. More biological than Pastor Voss.

Did that mean she’d decided?

And what did that mean for her baby? For her and Cash?

She tried to pick her words carefully. “Have you ever thought that these things happen for a reason? That maybe love is just choosing someone?”

He looked her straight in the face. “No,” he said, and it felt like cold water. They’d never looked at each other like this. Not even in his car, when their faces were touching. Looking into someone’s eyes and not having to look away, was
that
love? Because she couldn’t do it.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “but we’re not playing house here.”

He was right. He couldn’t be any kind of father. Any more than she could be a mother. Anyway, it wasn’t the baby she wanted. It was him. Or if not him, then someone.

“You might not need to tell your parents,” she said.

“Why?”

“I can go to Grand Rapids and, you know, take care of it.”

His face went slack. “You’d do that?” he asked.

“Believe it or not, Voss would take me,” she said.
That’s
what she’d call him. Voss. And Richard would be Dad. It was only a matter of deciding.

Cash stopped in front of her and rubbed his hands together.

“I’m not sure how I feel about that,” he said quietly.

She didn’t know why, but this made her angrier than ever. “Nobody is sure about anything!” she said. “But if I’m going to do it, I’ve got to go on Saturday. I don’t want anyone here to find out.”

“I’ll come with you.”

Maybe she
could
marry him. Wasn’t he a decent guy? Why’d he have to be so decent after she made up her mind?

“No,” she said. “I have to go alone.”

“Why?”

“It’s supposed to look like a party. Girls only. I have to wear a magenta dress.”

“Jesus,” he said. He seemed to consider this. “I don’t even know what magenta is.”

“It’s like pinky-purple, I think. Or red.”

“Are you scared?” he asked. “I mean, how do you know it’s safe?”

“The doctor has been doing it for twenty years, I guess. The pastor knows him.”

“How much does it cost?”

“Three hundred dollars.”

He whistled. “Holy shit.”

“Lenny gave me most of it. Pastor Voss is paying the rest.”

He shook his head. “
Lenny?
This just keeps getting weirder. I’ll pay him back.”

“He won’t take it.”

“Then I’ll give you the money and you can give it to him.”

“Where am I supposed to say I got it?” she said.

“Say what you want. I want to pay him back.”

“What about Voss? You want to pay him back too?”

He thought a moment. “Nah, screw him. But
Lenny
. Where would he get three hundred bucks?”

Sally shrugged. “I didn’t ask.”

“So that’s that, huh?”

Panic seized her.

“Cash? What’s going to happen with us?” Embarrassed, she went on. “I mean, will we go to the movies and hold hands? Should I have you over for dinner? Or do we act like, you know, nothing happened?”

He stuffed his hands in his pockets and shuffled his feet.

“You want me to buy you a teddy bear or something?”

She saw he was serious.

“No thanks.”

He nodded a moment, then gave her a long look. “I’ve got to get to work. You want a ride?”

She shook her head and watched him go, thinking
I had sex with him!
Over and over like a drumbeat in her head. But the truth of that was already fading. Replaced by this: one day far from now Cash might pass her on the street. If she was with someone who loved her,
truly
loved her, say a husband, or maybe a father, she might point and say
See that guy? He once got me pregnant.
That someone would stop and stare.
Say that again?

But she wouldn’t. She was so tired of repeating it. Besides, the more you say a thing, the less it means.

Nell

It’s difficult to hear yourself described in certain terms—irresponsible, unprofessional, lacking judgment—when you know yourself to be the exact opposite. Just as you know that the more you protest, the more desperate and guilty you appear. Besides, actions alone tell the truth. Hadn’t Nell been reminded of that when her eighth grade friend Mary—the last real friend Nell had—bragged about being such a great cook, and then
right in front of Nell
put a half-eaten sandwich in the refrigerator with no plastic wrap covering it? See, Nell saw these connections where other people didn’t. So she didn’t say much when Sergeant Van Zandt said she was being suspended from her job for two weeks and suggested she think about the qualities required of members of the Auxiliary Police Department. She knew she’d have to find some way to prove herself.

Mandy’s case was her best chance. She had an appointment at the Department of Human Services that very day.

If only she weren’t feeling so down. Normally a mood like this could be improved by writing in her diary, but she’d given that up. Its orderly lined pages infuriated her, implying as they did that life’s events could be strung together in a pleasantly slanted line, I’s dotted, T’s crossed. Writing her thoughts down would not change the fact that the house was a despicable mess, what with her mother picking up extra shifts at the plant, and Sally moping around, lazy and weepy. Worthless, actually. As if she were the only one humiliated by what happened at the banquet. Not caring that Nell had not been to church since that night. That she’d probably never go back. That she’d lost the one thing that gave her strength.

She went to the bathroom to brush her hair before heading over to the city services building. There, leaning against the faucet, was an envelope with her name on it in Sally’s writing. Puzzled, Nell took the letter into the living room and opened it.

Dear Nell,

You’d better sit down because I have some news for you and it will be a shock. I have thought long and hard about whether to tell you this and I finally decided that although you are mostly a pain in the butt (here Sally had drawn a dopey smiley face) you are my sister and you should know. So here it is. The reason I did not come home that night is I was with Cash. I let things get carried away, and by that I mean that I went all the way with him. I know what you’re thinking and since you will already hate me for this, let me warn you it gets worse. I am pregnant. Yes it is for sure. Mom took me to Dr. Maas. So you see I don’t really have the flu. The final piece of news is that I am not going to have the baby. Pastor Voss is going to take me to a special place in Grand Rapids to have the procedure. Do not try to talk me out of it because it is what’s best for me and it is my life. Sorry, Nell. I have messed up good. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but you don’t have to bother yelling at me either. I already know.

Love, Sally.

Nell’s hand flew to her heart. The news was like the blast of a shotgun, delivering not one stinging wound, but a rash of them. Sally had sex. Sally was
pregnant
. She was planning…an
abortion?

She sank into the sofa, seeing things she didn’t want to see. A dark car and a boy’s long sinewy arms. Sally’s head thrown back. Revulsion flooded her, followed by this:
What was it like?

She shuddered, ashamed and confused.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen! First Nell would get married and have her wedding night. Then she would sit on the edge of the bed and have a sisterly talk with Sally about sex. She’d tell her what to expect when it was her time. When she was married. Nell would tell her how beautiful it was. God promised that. But there was nothing beautiful about being sixteen and doing it with a greasy long-haired mechanic.

And what was this about Pastor Voss?

Instinctively she reached for the phone. She had to talk to her mother! She had to hear it from her!
Why didn’t you tell me?
she’d ask.

She stopped. Had the pastor told Prudy about the terrible scene with Nell in his office? She imagined him and Sally and her mother sitting in the back booth of some empty diner off the interstate, crumpled tissues littering the table, their coffee turning cold in untouched cups, making a pact to keep Nell out of this. Sally saying
You know how she is
. The pastor murmuring in agreement.
Such a good heart, but her expectations are just completely unrealistic.
He and Prudy exchanging a glance.

How dare he have any part of this!

Oh, she wanted to strangle Sally! How could she
do
such a thing? She felt it personally, as if Sally had said
Oh yes, Cash, let’s have sex! It’ll drive my sister crazy!
Did she for a moment consider Nell or their mother or her Christian upbringing? At what point did Sally decide that nothing else mattered but her own selfish desires?

And, a baby! The idea that Sally was capable of having a baby was as surprising as seeing a dog twirl on its hind legs wearing a tutu. It was a trick you might see on television, some glassy, far-away possibility. Your own dog was never more than just a dog, fleas and all.

As for
abortion
, she couldn’t even think of that without a sort of veering off, panicky feeling. No one Nell knew would ever consider such a thing. And anyone who
would
consider it was someone she didn’t want to know.

She couldn’t let her go through with it, that much she knew. But how would she stop her?

Nell looked at the letter again.
I don’t expect you to forgive me
, Sally wrote. Tears sprang to Nell’s eyes because Sally was right. Nell couldn’t forgive this. In her heart she would always know that her only sister—the sister Nell was meant to have, the one Sally was meant to be—was gone. That’s how final it seemed. Like Sally was forever lost.