Secrets and Sundresses

“Caroline?! Are you okay?” Charlie asked. They were both walking from the parking lot into the Country Club and Caroline’s face was streaming with tears.

“Yes! Sorry to scare you dear!” She quickly replied. “I was preparing a plate of clams for myself when the steam from the pot rose up and burnt my hand! I was just coming back from my car with my Band Aid filled purse was.” She held up a black beaded purse and smiled.

“Oh thank goodness! I was concerned! Do you want to walk in together? My parents are very fond of you, you know!”

“Sounds wonderful!” Caroline smiled. The two walked into the club side by side. “I need to use the ladies room. I’ll meet you by the buffet table?”

“Of course. Bye Caroline!” Caroline watched Charlie walk off to the buffet table and she knew it was safe to rush into the bathroom. Looking both ways, she pulled open the door to the bathroom and sighed relief. It was empty. Locking the door, Caroline used a shaking hand to unzip her purse and pull out a pregnancy test.

“Here we go.” She breathed. She walked into the stall.

Caroline knew she was pregnant, but she had to be sure. She was in denial and ignored all the signs, but without her family she could easily slip away during the Clam Bake. Slipping away was the easy part, raising a child in a family as religious as hers would be hard. Caroline could just here my mother’s voice. “Abstinence abstinence abstinence. It’s the only guarantee!” She could hear my father’s threats. “If you ever come home pregnant, don’t bother coming home. We didn’t raise a dirty girl, and we won’t raise the child of a dirty girl.” Now here she was, crying on the bathroom floor between two sinks holding a pregnancy test.

Too many reckless nights. Too many parties. Too many drinks.

Too many guys.

Now clutching her future in her clammy hands, Caroline was given her death sentence. She was given the answer to the constant haunting question.

Inevitably, Caroline was pregnant.

She let her head fall into her hands and began bawling silently into her palms. How would her parents ever forgive her? If she was kicked out of the house where would she go? She picked herself up, ignoring the millions of new questions burgeoning in her head and took a long look in the dirty bathroom mirror. She was wearing a faded purple sundress and a mass of curly blonde hair rested on her shoulders. Black mascara was running down her cheeks and tears stained her face in long lines. Embarrassed, she darted her eyes to her feet. Brown Birkenstocks covered them. She shuddered at the thought of not being able to see her feet in a few short months. Caroline felt the tears welling up in her eyes until a sick, twisted thought crossed her mind.

This was her ticket out.

Once her parents found out she was knocked up, they would kick her to the curb. That would mean no more dress fittings, no more galas, no more oboe lessons, no more Country Club Clam Bakes or golf tournaments or Christmas parties! This was the best thing to ever happen to her!

“What am I saying?” she asked herself. “I’m pregnant!” Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Hey Carrie, its me.” The voice said. Caroline jumped up to unlock the door and let Annabelle in. “What’s the verdict?”

“In the words of that guy in Juno; ‘my eggo is preggo.’” She sighed. Annabelle wrapped her arms around her.

“Who’s the father?” She asked. Caroline froze.

“I don’t even know.”