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Chapter 6
RACHEL
Irollmyeyes for what seems to be the thousandth time in the last ten minutes I’ve been on the phone. I tap my fingers on the nightstand while I listen to her rattle on and on—repeating the same things she’s been telling me for the past month. I don’t know what she thinks she’s going to accomplish by doing this other than isolating herself from her only daughter. With only two-and-a-half weeks to go until my c-section, my mind is made up. It has been since the moment I decided to keep my baby.
In retrospect, it’s my fault for calling her. I only wanted to tell Mom how my appointment with my OBGYN went. My blood pressure is doing better, and Dr. Adams believes I will have a safe delivery. The baby and I are healthy, yet Mom seems to think this little house call is a good opportunity to convince me that keeping my child is a terrible mistake.
“You’re going to miss out on so many things,” Mom says, sounding desperate. She sounds as if I just told her I’m running away with a bike gang to Vegas to marry a man I met an hour ago. That would be something to be worried about, not becoming a mother. “You’re only twenty-one.”
I roll my eyes for the thousandth time. “Soon to be twenty-two and besides, there are plenty of mothers my age.”
“Name one.”
I scoff. “Well, I don’t know any by name, but I’m sure if they can do it, then I can do it too.”
“Listen to me, honey.” There’s a slight pause and my heart stills, wondering what terrible thing she’s going to say next. “Do you really want to lock yourself down with these boys forever?”
She has to be kidding me. I bite my tongue to keep from speaking—like she will really let me get a word in anyway.
“You may want to date around, meet other boys your age. You shouldn’t lock yourself down just because you’re pregnant with one of their spawn.”
Spawn? Did she really just call her future grandchild a spawn?
Something inside me breaks, and my mouth opens despite telling myself to let her words bounce off me. There’s no going back when I finally say, “Why are you so upset about this? Why can’t you let it go? I’ve made up my mind and that’s it. It’s my choice to make. Not yours. Is it because somehow this takes away from your wedding? Is it because for once, Mom, not everything is all about you?”
Mom gasps and I instantly wince. Crap. Now I’ve really done it.
“Now, you listen here young lady!” Mom shouts, making my head pound and my stomach stir. “I’m not going to apologize for worrying about you and the decisions you’re making.”
Why do I feel so nauseas? I swallow the bile rising in my throat and stroke my belly. My heart pounds in my chest. I can feel it pounding in my ears.
“You’re not thinking rationally,” Mom continues while I push myself out of bed and make my way on wobbling legs toward the bathroom. “You’re allowing your emotions to control everything. And I should know. I did the exact same thing when I thought myself in love with your father.”
I push the bathroom door open and practically lunge for the toilet.
“And maybe I don’t want you to be a laughingstock at the wedding. Bryan’s family is quite conservative. They won’t understand your lifestyle.”
I hold my phone away from me as I vomit into the toilet, yet Mom is shouting so much, it’s almost like she’s on speaker phone.
“And knowing you, you’ll probably flaunt it. I won’t have it, missy! You understand me? Maybe it is my second wedding, but I want it to go smoothly. I want the lovely day I never had, and I am not going to let you ruin it with your choices.”
I wipe my mouth when the last of the bile leaves me. My hand tightens around the phone, and I scowl into the toilet, flushing it quickly while pulling myself up. “Well, sorry to disappoint you, Mother, but if you’re so worried about me ruining your wedding, then maybe it’s best I don’t go.”
Mom gasps. “You can’t mean that.”
“Why are you so angry?” I shout while stomping out of the toilet. My head sways and I grimace. I wait for my vision to darken, for something to be wrong, but I’m able to make it back into my bed. “You’re the one who doesn’t want me there,” I continue while making myself comfortable on my left side.
“I didn’t say that.”
I roll my eyes for the thousand-and-first time. “Then, what are you saying?”
Mom sighs. “I’m saying, I don’t want you there with the baby.”
I blink. I don’t quite believe my ears. “What?”
“You heard me. I won’t say it again. It’s too terrible to repeat.”
“Then why the fuck did you say it?” I shout.
