After Tonight

With each passing day, I regretted my decision more and more. My parents watched in alarm as I withered up. I was at an enormous fork in my road to a happily ever after and there were no sure signs telling me which way to go. If I went with the baby, I would have a 99 percent chance of losing Rob. If I went with the abortion, I would lose the most precious gift I’d ever been given. It was a lose-lose situation.
The first time Rob didn’t answer, I let it go. It was going on eleven anyway—he may have been asleep. When I called the next afternoon, I let it go too. His phone could have been off or out of batteries. I waited another week before calling again, he’d be in Vancouver by then. When he didn’t answer that time, I figured his phone had been snatched up by a bear or maybe a moose.
Alas, I knew that an animal stealing Rob’s phone was quite impossible. So my decision was made for me. I was going to do this thing on my own. It wasn’t going to be easy, but it was something I needed to do—something I wanted to do.
My first order of business was calling our entire guest list—there was no way that Rob would do it, and it absolutely needed to be done. I sat at my parents’ kitchen table with the small address book and my bridal binder. It was a grueling process that evolved into an entire day in my bed, crying. They were shocked. When asked why, I didn’t mention the pregnancy. I wasn’t out to slander Rob by any means, so I simply said that things were a little tough. It was a vague answer and even though I was pressed for more information—even from people I’d never met—I told them that I appreciated their sympathy but had to finish my phone calls.
I called the caterer, the venue and the judge, and lost every single one of our deposits. By the time I was finished, I never wanted to see that stupid binder again. In a fit of rage, I hurled it into the back of my closet.
Once I got out of my two week-long funk, I carried on as usual. The only ones sharing my pregnancy were my parents and it was practically a month before I told anyone else. As far as everyone in my circle knew, Rob had to film the week of our wedding—it was postponed. I knew I would have to tell them eventually—it wasn’t like my stomach would stay slim for nine more months.
Oddly enough, the first person I told was Grace. I went over one night without calling—something I had a bad habit of doing—and when Tom answered my knock on her door, I nearly went into shock. The fact that he answered in a t-shirt and a pair of boxers made the situation worse.
“Tom?” I was flabbergasted. I knew he and Grace had a brief fling when he came to visit a few months back, but I had no idea that it had evolved into this…whatever this was.
“Abbey…” Oh, he knew. There was no way that Tom was oblivious about the goings-on of Rob and me.
“How are you?” I fiddled with my purse strap. Making small talk was a skill that I severely lacked.
“I’m not bad, yourself?” He braced the door frame with one door, studying me closely. I watched his eyes drift to my stomach. He knew.
“Could be better…uh, is Grace around?” I desperately wanted to turn around and run. But who would I run to?
“She’s in the shower.” Tom wouldn’t break his gaze from my stomach.
“I can wait.” He moved aside and I walked to the couch.
“So it’s true then?” His eyes were hard as he leaned against the doorway, watching me. A spark of anger zipped through me. I wanted to ask him what exactly he thought he was doing.
“Look, I don’t know what Rob told you but think whatever you want about me. I don’t care if you’re mad at me or you want to tie me to a stake and light me on fire.”
Tom looked at me, speechless.
“I was just going to say that I’m sorry.” He shook his head and vanished into the bedroom. My brain was already spinning due to this new development in my sister’s love life, but it started doing double-time as I wondered what Rob could have said to make Tom apologize to me.
“Abbey!” Grace fluffed her wet hair with her fingers and raced to the couch. As I stood up, she tackled me.
“Hi.” My younger sister held me at arms length, worry clouding her brown eyes.
“Are you alright?” She placed a comforting hand on my stomach.
“Tom told you then?” I shook my head, irritated.
“Yeah, Rob called him about a week ago.”
“Grace, I was going to tell you—” She shushed me.
“I knew you would come when you were ready.”
I saw Tom peak his head out of the bedroom. I already felt terrible for snapping at him, the least I could do was talk about his best friend out of ear-shot.
“Can we go somewhere else?”
“Yeah, let me dry my hair really quick.” I nodded and sat back down on the couch.
Voices eked out of the slot underneath the bedroom door. I didn’t care to know what they were nearly shouting about. Five minutes later I heard the blow-dryer and Tom’s voice got louder. By the time her hair was dry, Grace had won the fight, whatever it was about. She opened the door with a proud swagger and grabbed her purse off the kitchen table. Tom meandered out behind her and lingered by the doorway as we slipped on our shoes. I waited in the hallway as he locked his arms around her waist and kissed her lovingly. For flash, I was jealous. His steely gray eyes locked on mine once again and he nodded, a faint smile on his lips. Who’s side was he on?
“So how long is Tom here for?” I picked at the slice of Tiramisu. Grace, like my mother and Joplin, believed in the healing powers of a rum-soaked cake.
“He’s uh, he’s actually planning on moving here.”
I choked on a piece of cake. “What, when?”
“Soon. We’re thinking of living together…”
“I had no idea you guys were that serious.” My eyes teared up as I sipped water from my previously untouched glass. I cleared my throat once more, trying to breathe.
“Yeah, well. We didn’t really want to make it a public announcement just yet…especially with…this.” She waved her hand airily and scooped a forkful of cake into her mouth.
“Especially with me being pregnant?” I exhaled loudly, my eyes drifting toward the window. The final traces of winter were melting, giving way to a beautiful spring evening.
“Sort of…” Grace looked guilty and hung her head for a second. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like it was a bad thing.”
“But it is.” I cupped my chin in my hand and leaned on my elbow. “It’s turning into a horrible thing. Rob’s…well he’s gone.”
“How long has it been since you guys spoke?”
“Since I told him. He hasn’t answered my calls—which I kind of get.”
“This is killing him, you know that right?” A brief smile crossed her lips.
“Yes. Yeah, I do. But what do you want me to say?”
She smiled at me and gave my hand a squeeze. What had happened to the self-centered Grace, I wasn’t sure. I think she may have gotten tossed out the window somewhere between the night at the club and the minute Tom walked through my apartment door. But I was glad. Really glad. She wasn’t just my kid sister anymore, she was my friend.
…
My parents were waiting for me when I got back to their apartment. Jude and I had taken up some sort of scattered residence there, since I didn’t really want to deal with the issue of my own apartment. I’d gone back once to get a few things, but hadn’t returned since then. When Rob came home, we would decide what to do with it.
“Abbey, we have to talk to you about something.” My mom, who had been looking frailer and frailer as the months had passed, was sitting on the couch wrapped up in a knitted blanket.
“Mom, I’m going to start looking for an apartment soon. I’m just waiting for Rob to get back so we can settle some things with the one we’ve got.” I was getting tired, but I really just wanted to focus on the baby inside of my stomach. Things had been miserable since I found out—there had been no opportunity to really be happy that I was going to be a mother.
“That’s not what you’re mother is talking about.”
“What is it?” I suddenly became concerned at my dad’s somber tone. They beckoned for me to join them in the living room.
“Things have been pretty rough for me these past few months.” My mom wrung her hands together as she talked. “I haven’t been feeling well and I’ve been seeing a few doctors.”
I felt my heart plummet to the pit of my stomach. I reached out and grabbed her hand.
“They’re all saying she’s got some kind of cancer.” My dad interrupted our moment of silence. “Not sure what it is exactly, or if it’s treatable.”
“Oh!” I wrapped my arms around my mother and held her close. "Oh, mom."Tears began trickling out of our eyes, even my dad’s.
“We haven’t told the others yet, but since you’re living here…well, we thought it’d be best to let you know what’s going on. I know the timing isn’t right—”
“No, mom, don’t even think about that!” I was flustered and could feel heat in my cheeks. “I won’t say anything—is there something I can do for you?”
“Just keep that baby healthy, alright? You haven’t been taking good care of yourself since you got here.”
“Whatever you say.” I tried to smile but I couldn’t hold it. Instead, I broke into a fit of tears.