I just can’t stand the thought that he’s going to get away with it.
I am so caught up in my fear; I realize too late that I haven’t had my period. When I finally buy the test and take it, I am already three months pregnant. I take it in my own restroom and just sit there and stare at it, completely out of it.
What am I going to do?
I call Vera, and she comes over. She brings Publix’s sandwiches, my favorites with pastrami and extra mayo, and we eat lunch together when I tell her.
“I’m pregnant,” I say, just blurting it out, hoping she won’t resent me or judge me for not being careful enough. I need a friend now—more than ever.
She stops chewing and stares at me. She’s in uniform since she’s just on her lunch break and has to go back to base soon.
Her head tilts forward, and she looks at me, her eyebrows lifted. “Excuse me? Did I just hear you say that you were…pregnant?”
I nod. I don’t like the word. I’m thirty-six. I hadn’t expected to have more children. This wasn’t the plan. The plan was two children—a boy and a girl. We got the girl first, but that didn’t matter much. Just one of each and that was it. But then again, there was a lot about my plans that had been modified lately.
“So…?” she asks, waiting for me to say something. I don’t know what to say, to be honest.
I shrug. “I don’t know.”
“But…”
“I don’t know,” I say. I bite my lip. “Don’t judge me.”
She throws out her hands. “Hey, no one is judging here. I just…well, it would be great to know if it was my brother’s or…”
I give her a look, and she stops talking. This is exactly my dilemma. I have just started seeing Frank. To be honest, I was just seeking comfort with him; at least I think that’s what I have been doing. I’m not quite in a state where I can fall in love right now. I like him; I do. But do I love him? It’s hard to tell. I am technically still married, and the way things are, it might have to stay that way for a while. I have asked for a divorce, and my lawyer has sent over the papers to Ryan, but he refuses to sign.
“I take it you don’t know,” she says. “Is there a possibility it could also be…Ryan’s?”
I nod, then sip my Coke. I shouldn’t be drinking this stuff, I think to myself. I have to start thinking about the baby from now on.
“It could also be his,” I say.
“Oh, my word,” Vera says, taking another bite of her sandwich. She chews pensively. “If it is my brother’s, he’ll live up to his responsibilities; you can be certain of that.”
“And if it isn’t his?” I ask. “Am I about to have another child with a murderer?”
Vera stops chewing again and looks at me. “Shoot. That is bad news.”
“I need to find out somehow whose it is. I don’t know what I’ll do if it’s Ryan’s.”
“Maybe never tell him?”
I look up. “Not quite fair to him or the child. Besides, he’ll see it next time he sees me, and he’ll start asking questions. If I say it’s Frank’s, I’ll be putting his life in danger.”
Vera shrugs. “True. That is quite a dilemma.”
“I’m gonna try to get a DNA test,” I say and drink more Coke. Last sip, I promise myself. Just like I tell myself I’ll see a doctor about this pregnancy soon. I just keep postponing it, just like I kept postponing taking the test because I simply can’t face this dilemma. I can’t have another child with this man.
I don’t dare to.
Chapter 45
I ask Vera to help me get a DNA sample from Frank. I want to try him first, but I can’t ask him; I don’t want him to be suspicious or even to get his hopes up. We always hang out at my place since he doesn’t like me to come to his. He’s embarrassed about how small it is, he usually says. He’ll be suspicious if I ask to see it, and if I start to poke around looking for hairs on a comb or something like that, I’ll only get caught. I don’t do sneaking around. It’s just not me. I wasn’t even able to lie to my parents as a child. I tried once and told them I was going to my best friend Shawna Wyndham’s house when I was actually going to a party at Mike Stargill’s house. They bought it, but I couldn’t stand it, and seconds later, I ran into the living room and told them the truth. I am not good at this stuff, I realized then.
Vera promises me she will get some hair from him somehow, and about a week later, she texts me and tells me to meet her. She’s got news, the text says. Then she adds to meet her at the Causeway. I wonder why she has chosen that out of the way place…if she is afraid to be seen with me, then shake the thought. I send the kids off to school, then shower and get myself ready. I feel good today, and for the first time in days, I don’t feel nauseous. I look at my naked body in the mirror as I come out of the shower, then feel my bulging stomach. It’s still so little that I am the only one who can see it. I never showed much till I was late in my pregnancies, and with Damian, I didn’t show until I was seven months pregnant. I know I am not going to be able to hide it forever, but I still have a little time.
I drive past the base on my way there. I feel my heart rate go up as I drive past the entrance, thinking about Ryan and fearing he might see me or know I am here, then tell myself I am silly for being so paranoid.
I drive onto the bridge, going toward the mainland, then take the exit halfway. There’s an old bridge there that is closed off now, and a part of it is used today for fishing. There’s a small parking area underneath it, where I go. I drive down the narrow gravel road, bumping along, dust whirling in the air around me. I stop by the riverside and put the minivan in park. Vera isn’t there yet.
I wait for about ten minutes, then text her, asking where she is.
I AM HERE. WAITING.
She doesn’t answer. It annoys me. I hate to wait. There’s no one fishing on the bridge today. I get out of the car and walk down to the water. It’s a quiet day, and the Intracoastal water is barely moving. I see boats as they rush by, and birds are chirping from the mangroves. I see a row of about ten pelicans as they float above me, then take turns diving into the water, catching fish. It’s one of those gorgeous Florida spring days that I used to enjoy so much. But now, it just reminds me of the many times Ryan took us fishing on his days off, of how he used to help the kids and teach them everything about fishing and even how to gut the fish afterward and grill them for dinner. I still have the picture of Damian with the huge grouper he once caught that was almost bigger than himself. It’s on the shelf in his room.
I check my phone again to see if Vera has texted me back. She hasn’t. It’s been almost twenty minutes now. I don’t have time for this. I walk back to the minivan, and my hand is on the handle when I see a truck drive up on the old bridge above me. I wonder for a second if it is someone who is coming there to fish, then I am about to open the door when suddenly I pause. The truck stops on top of the bridge, and someone gets out. He’s wearing a baseball cap. I can’t see his face. He walks to the passenger side, then pulls someone else out. It’s the short blonde hair on that person who is being dragged toward the edge of the bridge that makes my heart stop.