Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 31838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 159(@200wpm)___ 127(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 159(@200wpm)___ 127(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
But then, lo and behold, I found out I was pregnant a few weeks later. It wasn’t exactly a surprise, seeing that I’d been with multiple men without protection. Still, I don’t know which of the frat boys impregnated me, and it doesn’t bother me, to be honest. After all, what am I going to do? Ask them all to take a DNA test? Admit that I’m a whore who had sex with a bunch of them in the pool? I’d rather not go down that road because I’m fine being a single mom. But clearly, the world has its own ideas of right and wrong, and Angela’s definitely in the “wrong” camp.
By now, the coffee’s finished percolating, and the steam coming from the heat of the pot behind her makes it look like she’s literally fuming with anger. Her fingers shake as she grips her cigarette and her eyes become narrow slits.
“This is not what I wanted for you, Ellen,” Angela hisses. “You’re supposed to be better than this.” I start to protest, but she cuts me off. “Please tell me you're not actually planning on having the baby.” I swallow because what do I say?
“I am having the baby,” I say in a firm voice. “I want this child.”
Angela squints at me like I’m the dumbest person she’s ever met.
“Really? As a single mom? And how is that going to work? You don’t have a job, nor do you have a man to take care of you. What, are you going to live in a homeless shelter?”
I swallow hard.
“No, I thought with your help, and some support from the university, I could make it work—”
But my mom cuts me off.
“With my help?” she harrumphs. “Who said I was going to help you?”
I swallow hard around the lump in my throat.
“Well, seeing that this is going to be your first grandchild—”
Angela merely cuts me off, a look of disgust on her face.
“Get out,” she barks. “Get your bags and get out. I want no part of this. This child is unwanted.”
I stand there, unmoving for a second. I imagined this scenario, and in fact, knew that it was the most likely outcome. But I didn’t think that our conversation would be over in thirty seconds. I had hoped for…. what exactly? Maybe a longer fight, at least? I’m suddenly not sure anymore.
“Mom,” I try, my voice quivering. “I’m happy about my pregnancy, and it would mean a lot if -”
“How could you let this happen?” Angela cuts me off again. She’s not interested in what I have to say and throws her cigarette butt into the sink with a dismissive flick. At first, I think she’s going to head back to her bedroom, but then she whirls and shoots me an angry glare.
“Look at me,” she hisses. “Do you want to be like me? To raise a child alone? To end up alone?” Now, tears are coursing down her sunken cheeks, and I’m shocked by this emotional outburst. I back away from Angela, almost tripping over my bags by the door.
“What do you mean?” I ask in a wobbly voice.
Angela sneers.
“I had you when I was your age, and look how that turned out! I’m washed up and alone, with only a stupid teenage daughter who’s even stupider than I thought. I thought you were smart, Ellen! You got yourself a scholarship to college, for Chrissake! But now, you’re going to throw it all away because of a baby?” she rages on. “How idiotic can you be? Look at me! I’m living proof that this shit doesn’t work!”
Tears spring to my eyes now because this is ten times worse than all the scenarios I’d imagined in my head. Of course, Angela was going to be angry and surprised at the pregnancy, but the reality is even more heartbreaking because she’s disappointed in me, and actually wants a better life for me and the child. My heart melts a little, but suddenly, my mom’s voice drops to a vicious whisper.
“If you want to ruin your life, that’s your business,” she spits. “But if you think I’m supporting you and your bastard, you’re wrong. Get out.”
Blanching, I bend down to pick up my bags while tears stream silently down my face. My head’s filled with words, and yet I can’t get any of them out. Instead, my mom merely opens the door, one hand poised on her hip as she taps her foot impatiently.
And so I exit the house, and before I can turn around to say goodbye, Angela’s already slammed the door in my face, the cheap blinds on the inside rattling from the violence of the act. I hear her cough a bit on the other side, but then her slippered feet pad away like nothing’s the matter.
I stand on the stoop for a moment, totally dumbstruck. Did that really just happen? Again, I’d envisioned the worst, but the lived reality was ten times more heartbreaking. Angela hates me, that much I’m certain of, and there doesn’t seem to be anything I can do to make her feel differently. Choking back my tears, I walk away from the house that is not my home, carrying my bags in my hands, and inside me, my baby. I have no idea what to do, except that I need to find somewhere for my baby and me to live now. And I vow that my child will not live in a string of houses. My child will not have a list of addresses that are merely places to stay. My child will have a home.