Amazing Grace (14 page)

CHAPTER TWELVE

THEN

My shock lasts for hours. I don't have the strength to leave the apartment. There are no tears, just this frozen lump of disbelief that I have been so utterly duped. After a while I turn the anger I feel for him on myself. What is it about me that screamed victim to him? How did I make it rational in my own head that a university professor would be interested in me for anything other than sex?

Before I leave that apartment, I rip up his money into tiny pieces and leave the pile on the middle of the bed. Then I take a knife from the kitchen and stab the mattress with it, over and over again, leaving it there for him to find. I smash the mirrors, crush his packs of cigarettes under my heel, and pour molasses all over his clothes. Then I plug up the sinks and bathtub and leave the water running. The door to his apartment is wide open when I go, the key dumped in the nearest trashcan on my way back to residence.

Once I get back to my room, my energy disappears. It's an awful night, just me, my rage, and my baby. I don't know what to do. If I go back to Marble Mountain, I'll be the talk of the town with my pregnant belly on display. I can't do that to Aunt Pearl. If I stay here, I'll go mad. University means nothing anymore. What I need is a job so I can take care of myself and this child, who I feel sorry for already. What a shit mother I'm going to be. I can't give this baby a father, a home, or stability. Maybe I should abort it.

But it's the only thing that's mine.

Aaron eventually seeks me out. Exams have started, and when I don't show up, he comes and finds me. I'm sitting in the bleachers by the sports field watching a soccer practice when he runs up to me, his long hair curling around his neck.

“There you are! What's going on? Did you forget we had an exam this morning?”

“I didn't forget. I dropped out.”

“Dropped out? Of what? Class or life?”

“Both.”

“Are you crazy? You're at the top in all your subjects.”

“Doesn't matter.”

His face is full of concern as he takes my hand. “What's wrong? How can I help?”

“You can't save me from myself, Aaron. No one can.”

“Maybe not, but I'm not leaving you here alone. You're my best friend.” He puts his arm around my shoulder and leans in to hug me closer.

“I don't know what to do.”

“We'll figure it out. You're coming back to my place.”

He keeps his arm round me as we walk across campus and down the side streets of Halifax. So far I've managed not to cry. I'm too miserable to cry. We sit in his apartment on either end of the hide-a-bed, drinking soup out of a mug. It's embarrassing to tell him about my ridiculous behaviour, that I fell for the lies and the bullshit. A real country hick.

“This is not your fault,” Aaron says. “Stop thinking it is. None of this is your fault.”

“I know you're trying to be nice, Aaron, but it is my fault. I didn't use birth control, and I didn't question his never wanting to leave the apartment or be seen with me. Not true, I mentioned it once and he distracted me, but it was blatant and I chose to ignore it.”

“He's in a position of authority and knows very well that he's in the wrong. Didn't stop him though, did it? And then he tells you to get rid of his kid. His kid! What kind of worm does that?”

“I trashed his place before I left.”

“Good girl.”

“It was childish.”

“Felt good though, right?”

“Yep.”

We watch a bit of television, each of us with our own thoughts. It feels nice to sit and not think. My eyes get heavy and I doze off. At one point, I rouse to find I'm covered with a blanket and there's a pillow under my head. I drift back to sleep and don't wake until morning.

Over breakfast, Aaron says. “I want you to come and live with me for the time being, while you look for a job. Obviously you can't stay in residence if you've quit school. I'll help you bring your stuff over.”

“I'm imposing on your good nature.”

“You're doing me a favour. Two is always better than one.”

The first thing to do is tell the Dean of Women at Sheriff Hall that I'm leaving. She looks surprised. “Not for good, surely?”

“Afraid so.”

“Are you going to another university?”

“No. I'm having a baby.”

“Oh, Grace!” There is such disappointment on her face. Exactly how I imagine Aunt Pearl would look in the light of such news. “You've got your whole life ahead of you. You have such potential.”

“I'm not dying.”

“You might as well be.” She gets up and starts pacing in her office. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that, but it's so frustrating to see a bright girl like you waste her future like this. Anyone can be a mother! Not everyone can make the highest aggregate in all her classes. I had such hopes for you.”

She sits back down behind her desk, thoroughly dejected. It's sort of touching.

“If your mother didn't have you, you wouldn't be here giving me flak. Have you thought of that?”

She tries not to smile. “I could wring your neck.”

“Sorry.”

“Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Yes. One of your psychology professors is a predator. He needs to stay away from young, foolish girls like me.”

She looks grim. “Oh god. We've let you down.”

I reach over and hold out my hand. “Thank you for your concern. I know you'll do the right thing.”

She stands up and shakes my hand. “Rest assured. Good luck, Grace Fairchild. My admiration has not diminished, my dear.”

Here I am again, leaving hope behind.

After I move in with Aaron, he comes tearing up the stairs of his flat. He hands me a piece of paper. “Roman's address. Don't let him off the hook, Grace.”

Unsure if I want to do this or not, I take a bus over to his neighbourhood, and wander around until I find the street and then his house. It's no great shakes. Not what I imagined at all. There are a few toys around the yard and it has a sort of neglected look. Before I lose my nerve, I walk up onto the porch and ring the doorbell. A dog barks. Poor thing. I feel sorry for it, having Philip as his human.

The door opens and an ordinary looking woman answers the door. She's not gorgeous, she's not slim, and she hasn't dyed her hair in a while. There's a commotion behind her. Sounds like kids and plates crashing.

“Yes?”

“Does Professor Roman live here?”

“Yes.”

“Are you Mrs. Roman?”

“What do you want?”

What do I want? I want a lot of things, but not this.

“Sorry I bothered you.” I turn away and walk down the steps.

I'm almost at the sidewalk when she shouts, “You're not the first, you know!' before she shuts the door.

My job hunt doesn't take long, but then again, I'm not looking for a career. They need someone at the corner shop down the street, especially the night shift. When I tell Aaron, he shakes his head.

“No way. You're not working in a store by yourself at night. Find something else.”

I stop stirring the macaroni in the pot on the stove. “I need to buy some groceries. I can't live off you forever.”

“Stop talking.”

We both find jobs that summer. He works at a flower shop, doing their accounting and general paperwork, and I'm a waitress and chambermaid at a bed and breakfast on Barrington Street. A job like this confirms my suspicions that human beings are disgusting. Who doesn't flush a toilet? My back aches by the end of the day after making umpteen old-fashioned beds, and whenever Aaron gets home first, he has a hot-water bottle waiting for me.

All day, every day, I think about the future. How am I going to bring up a baby alone? I still have a lot of Aunt Pearl's money in the bank, but it won't last forever unless I am very careful. The thought of coming to the end of my inheritance frightens me. If it comes down to it, I might have to sell Aunt Pearl and Aunt Mae's car. Maybe even the house. Then I change my mind and think I should just go back to Marble Mountain with the baby. So what if a few uptight hens squawk at me behind my back? At least I'd be safe.

But what happens if there's a snowstorm and I have no power? I'd be in the middle of nowhere. Is that a good idea with a baby? What if someone breaks in? I can't think anymore.

Then I have the brilliant idea of placing an ad in the Toronto and Ottawa newspapers, asking anyone who knows of a Trixie or Ave Maria Fairchild to please call my number. It cost me a bit, but if I can find my family, I won't be raising this baby alone.

In the end it comes to nothing. I have one caller who says he'd tell me what I want to know if I pay him a thousand bucks. Another tells me she once knew a Tricia Fairchild, but that she died long ago.

At the end of summer I find Aaron with papers all over the kitchen table. I go to the fridge and open the orange juice. “What are you doing? Don't you have your courses picked out already?”

“I need to talk to you. Sit down.”

After I pour the juice, I take a big gulp and sit at the table. “What?”

“Hear me out.”

“Uh-oh.”

“Grace. Be quiet. Please.”

“Sorry.”

He picks up the papers in front of him. They look like applications of some kind. If I didn't know better I'd say he was in a sweat. “You don't know about me.”

“Are you a killer?”

“Grace!” He starts again. “I'm leaving Halifax. I only came here to get away from my life. I needed a break and it did the trick, but I have to go back. Fortunately I met you and now I can't imagine life without you. I want you to marry me and let me raise the baby as my own.”

I drink the rest of my juice to stop from laughing.

“Well?”

“How can you ask me to marry you? You've never kissed me. You're not in love with me. I adore you as a friend, but as your wife? I told you before, Aaron. I'm never getting married.”

“Just listen!”

He seems so serious.

“I do love you, Grace. I haven't approached you because I knew you were seeing someone else. I just didn't know who. And then this horror happened to you and it wasn't the time to say anything. Just because I haven't drooled all over you doesn't mean I don't want to. I'm aware of the hurt you've been through. You might not think you're in love with me, but what is this, if it isn't love? We've formed this little family. I don't know where I'd be without you and I hope you feel the same way. My life is difficult, but it would be heaven if I had you and the baby.”

“Why is your life difficult?”

“My father.”

“What about him?”

“He is a very wealthy man who owns half of New York City. He thinks he owns all the people around him too. Like me, like my mother, before she ended up in a sanatorium. I'm a disappointment to him. But if I went home with you as my wife, and a grandchild on the way, an heir to his fortune, he would welcome us with open arms. I'm sure of it. And you would have the kind of life you've never dreamed of. And this child will have endless opportunities to explore the world and have the finest education money can buy. You need a father for your baby. You need to be protected from the world. I can't let you struggle here alone. We need each other, Grace.”

All this is bouncing around in my head. He doesn't know what he's talking about. I grab his hand from across the table. “Aaron! You have every opportunity to fall in love with another woman and have your own child. Why would I take that away from you? You're not thinking clearly.”

His head drops and he's still for a long time. Then he looks at me. “So you don't think you love me at all?”

“I don't trust men, Aaron. And you're a man.”

“I'm a good man, in case you hadn't noticed.”

“I—”

“Don't say anything. Just think about it. It's a happy ending for both of us. I do love you very much. I wish I was like you. You're brave and smart. You're a survivor. Quite frankly, I could use your strength around me.”

“What are all these papers?”

“A marriage license. A passport application for you. If we marry in New York and the baby is born there, it will be an American citizen.”

“I want my baby to be Canadian.”

“It will have dual citizenship, which is always a bonus.”

“I have a headache.”

He gets up from the table. “We need more juice. I'll go get some.”

I stand by the living-room window and watch him exit the building and walk down the street. He's such a funny character. A bit odd, yet sweet. Trying so hard to please his father. Thinking of me and the baby. I'd be set for life. I wouldn't have to worry about having a home, or bringing the baby up alone. I'd be able to keep the car and the farmhouse. We could go to Marble Mountain in the summer and I could teach the baby how to swim in the lake. I'd be a respectable married woman, not someone whispered about. There is really no reason I shouldn't do this.

Except it's wrong to marry someone when you don't want to be married.

I say yes anyway.

The next few weeks fly by. Aaron insists on taking me shopping for new clothes. Anything I want I can have. He pays for everything. He sends me to an expensive hair salon, and I'm sitting under the dryer when it hits me. He's trying to make me look good for his father. Like I'm not good enough already.

He's in the shower when I arrive home. I walk into the bathroom and flush the toilet.

“Aaah! That's cold water! What did you do that for?”

“You're a jerk.”

He peeks out from behind the curtain with soap bubbles in his eyes. “What did I do?”

“All this makeover stuff. You're trying to butter up your old man by making me look like a Barbie doll. That's revolting.”