“Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I eventually told them I was pregnant, well past the time for an abortion—”
“Would they have wanted you to get one?”
“Maybe, if they’d known right away. My gut says they would have pressured me, intensely, to get one, but who knows? I just knew I didn’t want to give them the option. But when they did find out, they went straight into adoption mode. Save Kara’s future. Save the family’s reputation. Nobody needs to know. Kara can go live with an aunt in Missouri until the baby is born. We’ll say she went on an internship and will start college in the spring.” She squeezed her eyes shut at the memory. “They’d written him off before even meeting him. It was painful. So painful. I had this little person inside me, clinging to my heart it felt like daily, and they were going to take him and hand him to someone else and expect me to just move on.”
“Oh, baby.” He reached for her, and because of the pain, she let him hold her. When he kissed the corners of her eyes, she realized she’d been crying. “Maybe they were just in over their heads, trying to figure out how to help you.”
“They didn’t even ask. When I told them I wanted to keep him, they wrote me off. Told me to get out. I stayed with Henry for three days. He was older, by almost four years. Had his own apartment—with a roommate—and I thought this would be it. This would be our new normal. Come to find out, the roommate was a female, and it was not a strictly platonic roommate situation.”
He hissed out a breath, the sound harsh in her ears.
“Doesn’t matter. He saved me the effort of waiting around for him to step up. I had been working part time, and they kicked it up to full time for me. Slept in the guest room at Marianne’s parents’ house for a while. They’re wonderful people. They warned me I couldn’t stay past the summer, and that was fine. But then every night, Frank—that’s Marianne’s dad—would sit down with me and go over plans for the future. He’d work on a budget with me, help me figure out which apartments I could afford . . . dad stuff.”
“I’ve never met the guy, but I could kiss him.”
“Save that for Mary, her mom. That woman saw exactly what I was, under the bravado and the I’m fine, it’s fine, we’re all fine answers I gave. She knew I was terrified of being a mom, and with zero guidance from my own mother. She helped, a little, picking out maternity clothes. She’d bring something home for me and lay it on the bed, telling me don’t worry about it. It was on sale, she couldn’t resist. Probably wasn’t, now that I think back. I love them.”
He made a sound of agreement and held her tighter.
“Basically, they gave me a safety net, but didn’t let me rest on my ass. They coached me into adulthood. So I started on my journey to independence. We had nothing for a long time, surviving on welfare . . .” She hadn’t told anyone besides the Cooks that before. It embarrassed her.
“Don’t. Don’t you dare feel bad for using assistance when you obviously needed it. That’s bullshit, Kara. It gave you and Zach a head start. Don’t ever regret it.”
“You’re right.” Shaky breath in, shaky breath out. “Anyway, the rest of it is pretty clear. Henry helps as little as legally possible, and often less than that. He finds things here and there to hold over our heads to keep us from taking him back to court for nonpayment.”
“Let me at the asshole. One time, Kara. One time.”
The fury burned in him; she could feel it vibrating in his chest. She sat back and watched him a moment, then cupped his cheek. “I can’t go to Texas with you. I can’t take Zach out of state. It’s part of the agreement. Neither of us can take him out of state without the other’s written consent. And basically, that means me. Not him. Because he’s never got him.”
“How can he get away without seeing his own kid?”
Kara shrugged. “Not showing up for his scheduled visitation, mostly. He knows I’m never going to argue, and if I do, he’ll threaten court again. He has money, I don’t. I need it to survive. I can make it on my own, but it would require a third job, or moving into a tiny apartment.” She wanted to choke down the tears, so she reached for anger instead. “Any idea how expensive allergy-friendly food is? How expensive it is to buy another EpiPen so he’s got one wherever he goes? I can’t do these things alone.”
“Okay,” he said slowly. “Your ex is an asshole, who uses child support like a leash, and tugs whenever he wants to. You can’t leave the state with Zach. But what does that have to do with a future for us?”
“Graham.” She sighed, then brought her legs up, wrapped her arms around her shins and let her forehead fall to her knees. “You’re in the military. How much longer are you going to be here, in Jacksonville?”