My Life After Now

8

Children Will Listen




Lisa took a deep breath. “I know you don’t want me here,” she said. “I guess I can’t blame you. I don’t really want to be here, either.”

So far she wasn’t making a very good case for herself. But I didn’t say anything.

“Adam and Seth didn’t tell you why I’m here, did they.” It was more of a statement than a question.

I shook my head.

“I’m pregnant, Lucy.”

My eyes instinctively darted to her stomach. She didn’t look pregnant.

“Four months,” she said, patting her midsection.

I cleared my throat. “Um, congratulations,” I said. “But I still don’t get what this has to do with us.”

“I came here because, believe it or not, you and Adam and Seth are the only stable people in my life. And I need your help.”

“With what? None of us have experience being pregnant.”

“No. But when I was carrying you, Adam helped me…stay healthy.”

That’s when it all clicked. She needed us to help her stay away from drugs. I should have known it would be something like this. It was classic Lisa: irresponsible, selfish, and expecting everyone else to drop their lives in order to cater to her needs. She was the one with the drug habit, she was the one who went and got knocked up, and we were the ones who were supposed to deal with the consequences?

“I’ve been pregnant before,” she continued. “I mean, besides with you. A few times, actually. But it never stuck…for one reason or another.” She shrugged. “This time, though, I want to do it right.”

Translation: You were never good enough for me, but this baby is. I felt like I’d been sucker-punched right in the center of my heart.

I pushed my chair back and stood up. “Your two minutes are up,” I said, and went upstairs to bed.

• • •

The next morning I awoke to a knock at my door.

“Lucy?” Dad said. “Are you awake?”

“No!” I yelled, pulling the covers up over my head. I felt like I’d only just fallen asleep.

The door opened anyway, and Dad and Papa came in and sat on the edge of my bed.

“So, you spoke to Lisa,” Dad said.

“And?” I mumbled.

“She said that she told you about the pregnancy.”

I exhaled and pushed the covers back from my face. “You mean the pregnancy that for some reason we’re expected to be responsible for, since she obviously has no self-control?”

Dad and Papa exchanged a look.

“Lucy,” Papa said. “I meant what I said—if you really want her gone, she’s gone.”

“Okay, great. I want her gone.”

“But hang on. Just think for a second about what that would mean.”

“What?”

“She’s already decided she’s going to keep the baby. So if we kicked her out and she relapsed, that baby’s health would be on our hands,” Papa said. “Whether we like it or not, we’re part of this now.”

That was true…

“And remember,” Dad said, “the baby is going to be your half-sibling.”

Huh. That was also true.

“So you see the predicament we’ve been dealing with,” Papa said.

“Yeah,” I said after a moment. “I guess I do.”

I was going to have a little brother or sister. Well, that just changed everything.