A month before the end of the school year, I started feeling sick. It lingered for over a week and I didn't know where it came from. When I went through a second week of it and entered a third without it getting better, I began to worry. I told my mother, which in hindsight had not been the wisest thing but was the only option I thought I had at that point. Even before we made the appointment, she became upset. After receiving the diagnosis of my illness, the ride home was filled with her expressing her anger and disappointment with me. I was not surprised to find my father at home when we arrived and I was treated to his version of my mother's words. I heard everything they had to say but was numb to the emotion behind it because of my own thoughts and feelings.
I was pregnant.
Due to a combination of biology and not being on the pill, I had never been regular. With the haze that accompanied sneaking around with Ryan, until the doctor said I was pregnant I hadn't realized that over two months had passed since my last period. While there was no question in my mind who the father was, I was glad that the timing was such that I hadn't been impregnated by Ryan during the weekend I spent with him after Spring Break. There would have been no way to avoid implicating him either as being the father or as being complicit in my sneaking around and having sex.
A large part of me was ecstatic about being pregnant with Ryan's child. For everything that I had hoped to happen between us, having a child hadn't been on my list. Even though we'd admitted our feelings for each other, I still didn't know how he felt about our future. I was completely in love with him but a small part of me knew that we would never be able to have a life together as more than siblings. Yet, with this development, I would now have something besides memories and a last name to tie me to my brother forever. Even with the uncertainty of my future, I was happy to know that I would be the mother of his first child and he would be the father of mine.
With all of the emotions of the day, it wasn't until I laid down for the night that I realized for the first time in my life, my parents had not called me down for dinner.
The next morning my drive to school with my mother was quiet and the air was filled with sadness and tension. When we arrived, I couldn't wait to get out of the car and escape. The trip home after school was just as cold and, after hanging out in my room all evening, I again went to bed without being called to dinner.
Another day of silence between me and my parents followed. I avoided them and they ignored me. I didn't know what to say to make it better but I also didn't know if I could. Their anger was giving way to their disappointment and sadness and it was palpable in the house. Even Renee avoided me for fear of being implicated in something simply by her association with me though she didn't know what was going on.
I went to school the next day with the same sense of disconnection from my mother. She didn't look at me during the drive and turned her head away from me when I got out of the car. As I closed the door, I heard her sniffle with sorrow.
"Hey, look," Tracy said as we walked out of the building that afternoon. "It's your brother."
Even before I focused on him, I was running toward the pickup area. I spotted Ryan walking quickly toward me with a hesitant look on his face and I ran into him full speed with both my body and emotions. Deep, heavy sobs wracked me as he wrapped me in his arms. Everything that I had been feeling over the past few days came out in a rush that I couldn't control. The only thing I was aware of was my brother holding me, supporting me physically and emotionally.
Once I calmed, he kept an arm around my shoulders while he guided me to his car. Through my tear-blurred eyes I saw that the pickup line was empty except for a straggling mismatch of students and parents, all of whom purposely did not look in our direction. In the car, he held my hand securely as we drove away and I focused on it, letting his touch and presence ground me. When I finally looked up and out the window, I saw he was not taking me to the house but was driving toward his apartment. Though I had calmed significantly, my voice was still shaky when I spoke. "Where are you taking me?"
Splitting his focus between me and the road, he gave me another hesitant smile that was equal parts hope and sadness. "Home."
"But isn't this the way to your apartment?"
"Yeah. But before I get into that, is there something you want to tell me?"
In between his eyes cutting back to the road, I saw happiness and excitement in them and knew that he already knew. Despite that, tears began to stream down my face because I wasn't sure what was about to happen. "I'm pregnant."
Ryan took a deep breath. "I can't tell you how happy I am. I'm just sorry you had to go through the past few days by yourself. But I'm here for you now. And I know you have options so whatever you decide—and I'll help with that if you want me to—I will still be here for you, no matter what."
My tears began to flow heavily. While I knew what he was referring to, I was both happy and sad that he had brought it up. Putting that aside, I repeated my question. "Why are you not taking me home?"
The sadness reappeared unrestrained on his face. "I am. I called Mom to ask her something yesterday and she unloaded on me. After I hung up with her, I checked with Gary to make sure it'd be cool then called Mom back and told her you were coming to live with me."
"What?" I felt happy, sad, surprised, disappointed and a host of other things upon hearing him say that.
"They were hurt and disappointed and you know them well enough to know there was no way they were going to let you stay there much longer. They were already looking at places they could send you so no one would know you were pregnant. Living with me, you'll be somewhere safe so they won't have to worry and if they ever want, they can come visit or at the very least ask me how you're doing. After you graduate, you're on your own. They're not going to pull you out of school or stop paying so your classmates won't find out unless you tell them, though they still haven't figured out what to tell people when you stop going to church, which they expect you to do in your 'condition.'" He mimicked our mother's inflection perfectly.
He continued, "You know my place is not perfect and it's going to be cramped, but it's what we have to do. At least for now. If you want to go somewhere else later, that's your choice but," he gave me tentative smile, "I hope you won't want to."
Not knowing what to say, I squeezed his hand and turned my head to hide my face.
"When I told you that I loved you and that I would take care of you I meant it, Rach. And for as long as you let me, I'm going to be right by your side. I love you. And I love our baby."
My tears didn't break the silence in the car. Even though I was still hurting, for the first time in days I was starting to feel okay.
When we arrived at the apartment, we went straight to his, now our, room. There were boxes and bags of my belongings filling most of the available floor space.
"Sorry it's a mess. I have to go back tomorrow to get the rest. By this weekend, I'll have a larger dresser in here for us to share. Hey," he wiped my renewed tears away with his thumbs then pulled me close again. "None of that. Unless they're happy tears."
"They are mostly," I said weakly.
