But when I walk inside and find my mom sitting on the couch with a pink and white box in her hand, I know I won’t be doing either of those things yet.
“Tell me this isn’t yours,” she says, tossing it at me. “Tell me you didn’t just destroy your entire future!” She stands and grabs a cigarette from the pack, pushes it between her wrinkled lips, and lights it.
“It’s mine,” I admit.
“And the father?”
“He’s dead.” The lie flows from my lips easily, as I recall Freeman’s threats.
Her brows rise in confusion. “Dead?”
“Dead,” I repeat. Dead to me, dead to the baby growing in me, and to the world, he will always be known as an unnamed man who’s dead.
“You going to have an abortion?”
“No.” It was never a thought in my mind. Like my dad made sure to tell me he wanted my mom to have an abortion, my mom has told me a million times she considered it but couldn’t do it. If she had, if she had listened to my dad, I wouldn’t be here.
“You should,” she says, shocking the hell out of me.
“You didn’t.”
“And look how hard this life has been on the both of us.” She takes a puff of her cigarette and releases the toxic smoke into the air. My thoughts go straight to the health of the baby I’m carrying, and I back up a step—it’s my job to protect the baby.
“Do you regret having me?” My voice cracks. Not once has she ever said she did. That was always my father.
She sighs. “I could never regret having you. I love you, but that doesn’t change the fact that life’s a mean, cruel bitch, who’ll eat you up and spit you out. It hasn’t been easy raising you. I wasn’t able to give you a fourth of the shit I wish I were.”
“But you loved me,” I rasp. Isn’t love enough?
“Love doesn’t pay for formula or diapers or clothes or an education,” she says, answering my unspoken question. She hates that she can’t afford to help me with college, that even though I had the GPA and scores to go to a good school, because we can’t pay for that, I’m instead going to a local community college, while my half-sister, my dad’s other daughter, is going to Stanford because my dad can afford to pay for it.
“I’m keeping the baby,” I tell her. “I’ll figure it out.”
She sighs in frustration. “We can barely afford to keep this roof over our heads.” Tears well in her eyes. “Please, Sophia. Don’t let one mistake ruin your entire future. I want more for you than this life.”
My heart both hurts and swells at her words. We’ve never been close. Not like I imagine a mother and daughter should be. She’s been stressed and struggling for as far back as I can remember. But it warms my heart that despite that, she still cares about me and my future. She wouldn’t kick me out on the streets with a baby in my belly, but that doesn’t mean I should put this on her. This is my problem. And I’m going to need to deal with it on my own.
I take a shower, remaining under the hot water until it turns cold, then throw on a pair of cotton shorts and a tank top. It’s hot tonight and we don’t have working air conditioning.
When I’m putting my phone to charge, a text comes in from my cousin and best friend, Naomi: Miss you, love you, need you.
I glance at the time on my phone. It’s four in the morning here in California, so it’s seven there.
Me: Everything okay?
My phone rings and I hit answer. “What’s wrong?”
“Jacob took a job in China. Told me he wanted a fresh start. We broke up.”
“What?” Jacob is the reason Naomi moved across the country to New York. They were high school sweethearts, and he got an offer to work for some tech company in New York and asked her to go with him. “What are you going to do?” She works as a bartender like I do, in New York, but she can’t possibly afford to live there without him.
“Dante said he’d help me out.” Dante is her boss, and she’s mentioned on several occasions how close they are. From the way she speaks about him, I almost think she has a thing for him, but she swears they’re just friends—which raises the question as to why she’s friends with her very much older boss.
“So, what, he’ll be your sugar daddy?”
We both laugh.
“No, he said I can…work the stage.” Shit, she’s going to strip? She said they make more money, but Jacob wouldn’t let her do it. “It won’t be enough, but I’ll find a roommate.”
“I’m pregnant,” I blurt out.
“What?” She shrieks. “How?”