Page 81 of Forbidden Pregnancy
“You’re not too old. And neither am I. We’re mature parents. Can you imagine the two of us running around with kids in our twenties?”
Michael laughs. “No,” he says. “I lost my eye in my thirties so… I can’t imagine having a kid then, either.”
Gianna Rae peacefully stares out over the ocean as I lean my head on Michael’s shoulder. He never told me how he lost his eye and it never seemed appropriate to ask him that type of personal question. I sit quietly, listening to the water and waiting for him to fill the empty space with his secret – if he so chooses.
“I want to tell you what happened there,” Michael says in reference to his missing eye. “But I have to keep it private for my family.”
I don’t want to tell him that I wondered the first time I saw his face again. But after twelve years, he still looked just as hot without that eye so maybe it doesn’t really matter. Gianna Rae gurgles again, blissfully unaware of the serious silence descending on both of us. Michael moves in closer to me and our fingers interlace with each other naturally.
“I never questioned you, did I?”
“No,” Michael says. “You didn’t. Your blind trust in me got you hurt, but I can promise you that will never happen again, Myra.”
“I know.”
“Do you think we could have another miracle baby?” Michael asks, his thumb rubbing along the center of my palm in slow circles.
“I doubt it but… I doubt we’ll stop trying.”
“Good girl,” Michael whispers, leaning over to kiss my cheek. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”
Geralynn
Six months later
Isit with crossed legs on a checkered picnic blanket on the dock as Nicki Taviani twists her hands from side to side as she grinds up her daily dose of New York grown weed for her Friday afternoon joint. We started this weekend tradition when we got our first summer jobs atOrchard Park Super Cream, the most chaotic ice-cream parlor in our neck of Western, New York.
My fingers spread the organic raw rolling papers open as I hold the tip in place for Nicki’s herbal remedy. She uncaps the grinder, sending the pungent weed scent wafting around us with the light, summer breeze.
She gets all the weed in and takes the papers from me to finish rolling up.
“Are you sure you’re not gonna smoke tonight?” Nicki asks.
“I’m sure.”
“Ugh.Fine.This is so fucked up, by the way.”
Nicki just landed the deal of a lifetime, but she won’t stop complaining about it. She had to move out of her apartment downtown to live with her younger brother at his lake houseon the edge of Lake Ontario. The glassy blue-green looks so peaceful. It’s the perfect distraction from everything happening back in the city.
“This house is nice. Renzo even fixed the hot tub for you.”
“He’s an asshole,” Nicki says. “Trust me.”
“What happened?”
“Does that even matter?” Nicki asks, cupping her hand around her freshly rolled joint as I fumble around for the lighter to help her get it lit. She continues her sentence after her first puff of weed. “You just got dumped, queen. What happened?”
“He wanted me to straighten my hair for our engagement party.”
“Okay…”
“And I told him that I didn’t want to straighten my natural hair because of the heat damage…” It’s hard for me to continue, and humiliating to bring this story up in front of a white person, even if it’s my best friend Nicki who has been by my side through most of the formative moments of my life. “He kept pushing me then he finally told me…”
I look down and try not to cry. I can’t believe I’m having such a strong emotional reaction right now and I’m glad that I only slapped my now-ex-boyfriend Torrence and ended the relationship instead of showing weakness like this.
“He told me that I needed to get that ugly mop under control if I ever wanted to meet his grandparents without embarrassing him.”
“That ugly mop?” she asks. “He said that?”
