280 Days

The next night, Charles, calmer now, drove to Ina's apartment again, intending to apologize for leaving and hopefully talk to her about their options. He still wanted her to terminate, but he was going to see if there was anything else they could do, just to make her feel better.

He still felt trapped. Even though he was a bit more composed than he was yesterday, he still felt like his whole world was crashing down on him. Part of his calm demeanor was due to the fact that he resigned himself to the fact that if Ina kept the baby and someone found out it was his, he would be fired. He'd already started to look at listings at other schools.

"Oh, God," he muttered, running his hands through his hair as he was stopped at a red light. "I don't want to transfer. One more year and I'll have tenure here."

The light turned and he pulled ahead, battling his way through New York traffic.

"I'm an idiot," he said aloud. "Should have just taken the train. Or walked. Probably would have been faster to walk."

Finally he arrived, and he parked in the back alley. He climbed up the stairs to Ina's floor, and then, seeing that no one else was there, made his way to her door. He knocked twice, then waited, shoving his hands in his pockets.

No one answered.

He knocked again.

He pulled Ina's spare key out of his pocket, thinking that she was asleep or in the shower. He unlocked the door and crept in. Everything was dark. The curtains were drawn and the only bit of light in the entire apartment was filtering underneath the door to her studio.

"Ina?" he called, walking into the den. The bed was made. The TV played The Andy Griffith Show softly in the background. He walked over to the bathroom.

"Ina?" he said, louder now. "Ina, are you here?"

Still no answer.

He pulled the bathroom door closed and went into the studio. No one was there.

"Maybe she's at the store," he muttered, walking back into the den.

"Edgar?" he called. "Edgar, come here, you damn cat!"

But Edgar wasn't there either. His food bag was gone and his carrier wasn't in the corner. That was strange.

Intending on leaving a note for her, he went to the junk drawer in the kitchen to pull out some paper and a pen, but instead found a note, scrawled on a piece of yellow paper that was laying on the counter next to the fruit basket. He picked it up.

Charlie,

I'm pretty sure you're going to come here looking for me. Sorry if you've tried to call, I'm on a plane. I just needed to go home for a while. I hope you understand. I'm going to tell mother and daddy. I can't keep this from them, and it'll be obvious soon enough anyway. Better start damage control now.

Charles' heart jumped into his throat.

Don't worry. I'm not going to tell them about you. As far as they'll know, it's just a guy from school. I'm going to tell them that he left me after he found out. Charlie, I love you. I'm sorry I couldn't do what you wanted me to. I don't want to make you angry or worry you or get you fired. And I understand if this ends things between us. I don't want it to, but I understand.

I'll call you as soon as I get the chance.

Lots of love,

Ina

Charles put down the note, his head spinning.

She'd gone home to tell her parents.

Ina came from a large, established Atlanta family, her emphasis. They were well off. Very well off. Although it hadn't been obvious to him at first, she almost screamed what he now recognized as trademarks of southern aristocracy. Her light, smooth accent. The way she set her spine straight and held her head high. She crossed her ankles, never her legs. The things she sometimes said. Lord have mercy. I'm fixin' to. Bless your heart. Growing up in an old fashioned family would do that. The south was a different place.

He was pretty sure they still lynched people for out of wedlock pregnancies there.

Especially in a family like hers.

"What's your family like?" Ina asked, pushing one of her snap peas around her plate. Charles smiled, bumping his leg into hers.

"They're nice," he said, cutting off a bite of steak and popping it into his mouth. Ina rolled her eyes.

"What a revelation," she laughed. "Really, I want to know about them. Do you have siblings, nieces, nephews? Where do they live? Where do you go home for Christmas break?"

So you want the whole family history? How many generations back?" Charles arched an eyebrow, bemused with her questions.

"As far back as you can manage," she drawled, taking a sip of her water.

"As far back as I can manage. Okay. Well, I have one brother, Aaron, who's five years older than I am. I have an older sister, Mary, who's three years older than me, and then I have a younger sister, Irene, who's four years younger. They all still live in Lincoln, Nebraska, where I'm from. Aaron has four children, twin boys, and then a younger boy and girl. Mary's never been married. She's the manager of a machinery plant outside of Lincoln. Irene got married right out of high school. She and her husband Tom have been together ever since, two kids, dog, white picket fence, the whole deal. Mary and I are kind of the odd men out, relationship wise, so it's nice to have someone else around to take the heat for never being in a 'stable relationship'." He paused, rolling his eyes. Ina laughed. "As far as parents go, my father worked at a meat packing plant and my mother still helps run a small clothing store in town. I'm the only one who's ever left. Thank God I got out in time," he laughed. "Now it's your turn."

Ina cleared her throat.

"I have two younger sisters, Eloise and Clara. Eloise is 20, she's a sophomore at Emory in Atlanta, and Clara is 17. She graduates high school this year. She wants to go to Tulane in New Orleans. We grew up in Buckhead. Suburb of Atlanta. Daddy manages the Coca-Cola factory in Atlanta and mother stays at home. She's set to inherit my grandfather's shipping company, though, so everyone's busy with the legal details of that.

Charles was impressed.

"So," he said. "You're... well off?" he asked, taking a swig of wine. Ina shrugged.

"I suppose you could say that. I've never liked that term, though. Don't get me wrong, I've appreciated growing up in a financially stable home, but I've never liked to take advantage of our... well, our fiscal position, I suppose you could say. Not like some of my peers did."

Charles laughed. "So, you were never on 'My Super Sweet 16'? I'm disappointed, Ina."

Ina laughed too.

"No. No 'Super Sweet 16'."

"How about a... debutante ball. Were you a debutante?" Charles asked jokingly, visions of Gone With The Wind flashing through his mind.

"Actually, I was a debutante. That's standard issue," she said nonchalantly. Charles put down his wine glass.

"Really? I was actually kidding," he said, dumbfounded.

"Really really," Ina replied. "White dress, kid gloves, announced by Baby Dee Simms, DJ for WATL, Atlanta's Hit Machine. I had an escort from the military academy down the street. Jonathan. Jonathan Shaw. Couldn't stand that bastard," she muttered.

"They have DJs at debuts?" Charles questioned, fascinated.

"Absolutely. After dinner and a few father-daughter dances, the parents 'retire to the lounge' and everything dissolves into a prom-type affair. It was okay. Dances were never really my thing, though. You did a good job on dinner, Charlie. It's delicious."

Charles thanked her, and then they both turned the conversation to other things. Charles kept on thinking about what she'd told him, though. For the first time since they'd begun seeing each other three months earlier, Charles got a glimpse of what Ina's life had been like before NYU, and what it would most likely be like after. He'd always assumed she was an average, middle-class girl, not a debutante from a wealthy family. It almost made him nervous.

He wondered what other surprises she had in store.

Charles left Ina's apartment and crept back down the hall, down the stairs, and into the alley. He got into his far and pulled away, heading to campus to write out his lesson plans for the week.

There was nothing he could do now anyway.