Shadows and Lies (22 page)

We were served an eight course meal, the first of my life, and probably my last. Everything was delicious, except for the cheese course. My stomach didn’t appreciate the Brie, and it took me several moments of deep breathing with my face away from the cheese to get my stomach under control. The last thing I wanted to do at my friend’s wedding was puke all over the table. Actually, that was the last thing I wanted to do anywhere. Paul of course asked me if I was alright, and I waved him away, telling him it was alright, I just didn’t like Brie. The main course featured a small piece of smoked haddock with mushrooms. I hate mushrooms, at least cooked ones. I felt horrible about leaving them on my plate, but I was afraid that if I did try to eat them, I really would hurl.

After dinner there was the requisite Bride and Groom dance; Genny and Isaac looked so in love and happy as they glided across the dance floor. Then we did the Wedding Party waltz. I had had to dance with the new guy Todd for the last class we’d had with Senora Valdez. Todd had two left feet and had left mine bruised. I danced with Paul at the wedding though, and he was smooth and my feet remained un-stepped upon during the entire waltz. I felt bad for Todd’s partner, but I wouldn’t have traded Paul for the world.

Unless I could have traded him for Sean.

The waltz ended and Paul went to go find Debbie. I sat down gratefully in a chair at some random table and just watched as other couples filled the floor and danced to Elvis’ Fools Rush In. I couldn’t help but wonder if I had been a fool, falling in love with Sean so quickly and telling him that I would be okay living his life. I thought about that hard, my hands under my chin as I stared off into space. I didn’t know the answer though. Part of me screamed YES! Carrie you are a HUGE fool. But another part said no, and the rest of me was just confused.

Sean had wanted me, and I had wanted to be wanted. His life was unpredictable and he was in a certain amount of danger. Someone older and wiser, if I had bothered to tell such a person about what was going on, would have likely told me that yes, I had been a fool. On top of all that, I had only known him for a month. Can you truly learn to love a person enough in the space of one month that you could responsibly say that yes, he is worth leaving everything in your life behind for? At the time I had thought yes, but now I was pregnant and alone. I had jumped in bed with Sean without being really prepared for that eventuality. I hadn’t protected myself with anything besides a condom that had sat in Sean’s bathroom drawer for who knows how long.

I rubbed my forehead and sighed. I was a big fat fool, I decided. I shouldn’t have slept with him, I thought. I should have just left him alone. I should have never have gotten to know him. I should have just continued to eye him from across the parking lot like he was some sort of criminal. It was really all Genny’s fault. I wouldn’t have accepted Sean into my life and heart so readily if Genny hadn’t encouraged me, if she hadn’t painted him in such a good light. But then, I thought, it hadn’t helped that at the engagement party he had treated me with such interest and kindness. And he had been dressed so handsomely.

So maybe it was nobody’s fault. Or maybe we were all just a bunch of fools. Either way, Sean was gone, I was pregnant, and I was going to have to decide what to do about it soon. That thought send a freezing chill down my spine. Should I have an abortion? Or should I keep it?

The thought of making that kind of decision made me want to cry in desperation, but it was time to cut the cake and I was needed for a photograph, so I stood up, put a smile on my face, and then at the first opportunity buried my face in a big piece of cheesecake.

As soon as Genny and Isaac left for their hotel room, I left for home. I wasn’t prepared to make a decision about what to do with my pregnancy, so I went home and dug into my secret stash of fancy chocolates and had a binge. I felt horrible about myself afterwards and fell asleep in my dress. I woke up to the sound of my blaring alarm clock feeling even more horrible than when I’d gone to sleep, but this time in body more than in spirit. I sat up and found out fast that I hadn’t taken my corset off, and let me tell that they were never, in any century, meant to be slept in. I pried myself out of my dress and went into work – I had not been in for the last two weeks on the excuse that I had PTSD and needed a vacation. Now I needed to be distracted from my life.

While there, I checked my email for the first time in two weeks. There was a bunch of spam mostly from some travel agency telling me that I needed to visit Seattle and see the sights. A picture of the Pike Place Market looked mildly interesting, but I wasn’t even tempted. I deleted every ad.

There were a couple of emails from Barbara too, whom I hadn’t even thought about in two weeks. Her first email was in reply to my own. She was very understanding of my position and said that even though she knew that Nancy had raised me and had been there for me, she would at the very least like to be my friend too. Ironically, she signed off with Love, Your Mom, but I didn’t take offense. In her second email, which she sent the next day, she wrote about herself, telling me her likes, her dislikes, her hobbies, and what her job was like. She hadn’t sent me anything else; apparently she was waiting for me to get back to her. I was grateful that she hadn’t inundated my email like a stalker, but I also felt bad for not getting back to her sooner.

Hello Barbara, I wrote immediately.

Sorry I haven’t written back. I’ve been dealing with some bad news that hit me soon after I sent you my first email. There’s nothing you should worry about – it wasn’t life or death kind of bad news – just personal stuff, you know. I have some big decisions to make, the kind that can weigh on your soul and affect the rest of your life. I’m only 21, and I think I’m growing up. I can imagine that you know what I’m feeling. You made some decisions that affected you – that will continue to affect you – for the rest of your life. I think I can sympathize though. Sometimes in life we make bad choices, and sometimes we think that there is no choice when there really is, and sometimes we make choices despite our better judgment, or the better judgment of others. Sometimes we do things that we know aren’t smart or wise, but we do them because we want to feel, and we want to love, and we want to feel loved in return.

I would like to know what went on between you and dad. I want to know why you broke up, why you got a divorce, and why you cheated on him. I want to know, not to condemn you, but because I think we might have a lot in common.

Carrie Vitagliano

I sent the email, and then instantly regretted it. I had said too much to a stranger, and I didn’t want Barbara getting involved in my life too quickly. But what was done was done, and even though a part of me said, “stupid, stupid, you shouldn’t have said those things to her”, another part of me felt like she was only one who could possibly help me through my dilemma now, because like I said, she had made life altering decisions before. Maybe she could give me some sort of guidance, or wisdom, or anything. The fact that she was a virtual stranger I found, after I thought about it for a while, could be a bonus. I thought that perhaps she would judge me less, that I would disappoint her less, than I would Judy or Nancy or my father, as I surely would when the truth of my situation finally came into public light.

Dear Dad,

Do you know that when I thought about the hypothetical man that I would eventually marry, I wanted him to be the opposite of you? I wanted him to have a steady job, I wanted him to be able to communicate as a man, and I wanted him to spend time with me, to show me that he loved me by taking care of me. I wanted a man who didn’t just want someone to cook and clean for him and raise his children for him, but I wanted a friend and a partner. I wanted someone I could I respect.

I wanted someone who would respect me.

Some scientists did a study many years ago about women and the type of men they choose to have relationships with, and most of them were attracted to men who were like their fathers either in appearance or temperament, either for good or bad. I think it’s interesting that I wanted a man nothing like you. I’m grateful for that drive. From the stories she had told me, Nancy chose a man who was just like her father, and look where that got her.

Not only have I chosen a man who is nothing like you, but I believe that he is a better man than you. If this insults you, I’m sorry. But the point of my writing these letters to you is to get a decade’s worth of pain off my back.

Like I’ve said before, the older I get, and the more experience I receive in life, the more I see how you failed me and my sisters. I don’t want to hate you, so I need to tell you these things. If you end up hating me I figure that’s okay. We’ve never really spoken before anyways.

With Much Confusion,

Your Daughter

There is a lot of information on the Internet about abortions. There are pro-abortion sites and anti-abortion sites. Each of them says that the other is evil or unreasonable or religiously or politically motivated. I finally looked up the addresses to a few actual abortion clinics in Las Vegas, all of which offered to either abort the fetus or help you keep it. The first thing I learned was that abortions are not cheap. The second thing I learned is that there are coupons for everything under the sun. Seeing a printable 20% off coupon on one clinic’s website made me feel a little sick, but then I read the details about how an abortion is done. The description was nothing graphic or scary, just a calm, medical explanation of how a pregnancy could be gotten rid of, depending on how far along a woman was.

An abortion of a pregnancy between 5 and 8 weeks could be achieved by taking two medications in pill form, one in the office, and the second a day or two later. That was called a medical abortion. The first medication stopped the development of the fetus, and the second caused the uterus to contract and induce a miscarriage. For women who were 7 to 15 weeks pregnant, suction aspiration was used. A doctor would use a straw-like instrument called a cannula to suck away the pregnancy.

For pregnancies 6 weeks or less however, abortion was not generally offered. I sat back in my chair and took a deep breath. I was at that time just barely 3 weeks pregnant. I would have to wait another three weeks to get an abortion. If I was going to get one. Reading the details of the procedures used did not turn me on to the idea, but again, I was alone. If I chose to keep my baby, I would have no family support.

I didn’t know one way or another, and truthfully, I was grateful for the fact that I couldn’t make a decision at that moment. I wished with all my heart that I could see Sean and ask him what he wanted. He was of course nowhere handy, but that didn’t keep me from having pretend conversations with him in front of the bathroom mirror in my apartment.

“Sean, I’m pregnant,” I said to my reflection that night. I wondered about all the things he could say in reply.

“That’s horrible,” I said for him, my brow wrinkling.

“I’m not ready,” I said, making my eyes go round with fear. Then I smiled. “I hope it’s a girl,” I said for Sean, and the idea of him, if he knew, really wanting our baby made me deliriously happy and so sad at the same time.

“Should I get an abortion?” I asked myself/Sean in the mirror. “Would you be alright with it? Would you understand?” I touched my reflection. “Would you hate me forever?”

Then, “How could you have used such faulty condoms? How could you have gotten me pregnant?”

“And how come the FBI never even came and knocked on my door? You did tell them about me, didn’t you? They should have contacted me and questioned me about why you were suddenly in danger after having spilled the beans to me.”

That question was one that I had no pretend answer for, and that bothered me because maybe Sean had never gotten around to telling them about me. Maybe he’d been whisked away so fast he hadn’t gotten the chance, and then by the time he did, it didn’t matter because the truth was his life was in danger and he was too much of a hero to want to draw me into his life again.

Under the circumstances, I could only hope that that was the case. I had to keep believing that Sean wasn’t a rat bastard. I had to keep believing that he really did want me; he just couldn’t have me at that moment.

“I wish you were here to let me know what’s going on, Sean,” I said aloud as I stood back from the mirror. “I miss you terribly. I could really use your help right now, too. Even a phone call would be welcome.”

I got no answer. Not that I’d been expecting one.

I wasn’t crazy, you know.

I did however feel some guilt for even thinking about having an abortion, so I went to church the next Sunday. Ironically, the sermon was about parenting, with scriptures taken from Proverbs and Ephesians. Children are a gift from God was the main message, and should be treated accordingly. That made me feel even guiltier about having an abortion, and I got up and walked out halfway through because I just couldn’t take listening to that sermon anymore.

While I was busy trying to make my mind up, Genny and Isaac left on their honeymoon to British Colombia, came back, and started setting up house together. Barbara and I corresponded back and forth, getting to know one another, sometimes talking on the phone, but not meeting yet. We spoke of inconsequential things, like how she was deathly afraid of mucus, blood, sneezes, the smell of rotten eggs, poop and in general anything that might offend her olfactory senses or come out of the human body. She constantly ranted about how despicable people were nowadays and how evil those despicable people’s kids were, but then told me that she loved children. I would always point out that children are a prime source for mucus, blood, poop and sneezes. She would always ignore me.

Not a word was said about the important questions I wanted answered. It seemed she wanted relations between us to move forward at a civilized pace, which was actually fine with me. I’d had enough drama in the last few weeks that I was almost loathe to start more.

All in all Barbara seemed like a nice woman, though she annoyed the pants off me sometimes. She was a nervous person who laughed after every sentence she spoke and had the tendency to cut me off in the middle of all of mine. She was also very wasteful and obsessed with expiration dates on food. She never kept anything, even water, in her house past the expiration date and when it did come, she would promptly throw it out.