Eli couldn’t think of anything to say to that.
Tucker didn’t seem to mind. After another silent moment passed, she asked, “You want me to call Bart and tell him that he’s on his own for dinner? We’ll order a pizza and pig out. You can do that guilt-free now that you’re eating for two.”
Eli laughed, which she knew had been Tucker’s intent. “No. I’m fine now. Well, not quite fine, but on my way to it. I need some time alone to sort it all out. Though it’s so good to know that you’re just a phone call away. You really helped settle me down.”
“I’m no expert. I mean, I just paint stuff for a living—”
Tucker always underplayed her talent, and Eli felt obliged to interrupt and correct her description of her job. “A graphic artist. What you do is art, Tuck.”
Tucker shrugged and stood. “Doesn’t matter what you call it, I’m a simple woman who has to say something before I leave. It’s something no one but you ever said to me. Congratulations, Eli. This baby will change your life. And though you don’t see it now, it will change your life for the better. I just know it.”
Tucker leaned down and, in an uncharacteristic display of affection, hugged Eli. “No matter what, you just remember that you’re not alone.”
She waved and hurried out.
Eli knew that Tucker was embarrassed at her actions. She wasn’t a hugger, wasn’t prone to inspirational speeches. However, this one hit the mark.
This baby was going to change Eli’s life.
She could only hope Tucker was right and that it was for the better.
Eli spent the rest of the evening wandering from one room of the house to another, thinking. What was Arthur going to say? Would he be excited? And her parents? Were they going to be disappointed in her?
She knew she was well past the age where she needed her parents’ approval, but that didn’t stop her from enjoying it. It didn’t stop the sting of imagining she’d let them down.
She went into the bathroom and cleared away the remnants of her momentary insanity. She was going to have a baby, and no amount of testing was going to change that.
Bathroom cleaned, she stood in the hall not sure what to do or where to go.
Finally, she went to her room, threw the decorative pillows onto the floor, rather than stacking them neatly on the chest, and climbed into bed fully clothed. She burrowed under the covers and willed sleep to come and take her away from all her worries.
When it didn’t, she tugged up on her shirt and exposed her stomach. Gently she ran her hands over it. Not it, her baby.
Her baby was there.
She was going to be a mother.
She just let the enormity of that thought sit there, blocking all her other considerations.
She had six sticks and a doctor’s test to prove that in a very short time she was going to be someone’s mom.
She was going to change diapers and breastfeed. She was going to get up in the middle of the night and deal with teething.
Somewhere down the line she’d have to cope with a first day of school, book reports and science fairs. Even first loves.
She was going to be a mother.
And someday in about eighteen years, this baby would graduate from school and go away to college. Maybe stay away, too, if the right job came along.
Her baby would someday leave her.
A new emotion swamped her. Loneliness. She’d miss this baby she’d only just found out about. Her child would eventually find their own way, build their own life, one that didn’t center around her. She’d be peripheral at best.
She rested her hand on her stomach and promised herself that when that day came she’d let go. Until then, she’d hold on tight and try to enjoy every minute.
Enjoy.
Yes, under the myriad emotions that had assaulted her since she got the news was excitement. Now joined by the promise of enjoyment. She was going to enjoy being a mother.
At least she thought she would.
Oh, there was still panic, terror, but she clung to the more positive emotions.
She was going to be a mother.
CHAPTER TWO
“Discovering you’re pregnant means things will change, but different isn’t always worse…”
—Pregnancy, Childbirth and Parenting for
Teens, by Mary Jeanne Lorei
“MS. CARTWRIGHT, ARE YOU OKAY?” Ariel asked the next day after class.
Eli had thought she was doing an admirable job hiding her sleepless night and inner turmoil, but obviously, she was wrong.
She redoubled her efforts and pasted her best I’m-okay smile on and nodded. “I’m fine, thanks.”
“I promised we’d finish our discussion. I wrote the note and will give it to Mrs. Brown this afternoon.”
“Good. That’s a great start.” At the word start, the girl’s smile faded.
“You said we’d talk about what else I need to do? I’ve been trying to think of what else could fix this, but other than taking an F on that test, I can’t think of anything.”
“Actually, Mrs. Brown and I talked about that. Rather than fail you, we’ve agreed that you’ll retake the test. And then she’ll deduct ten percent from whatever you get as a penalty.”
“Thank you. I assumed I’d get an F and that would drop my GPA.”
Eli smiled. Despite her own mind, she’d given Ariel’s situation some thought. To be honest, thinking about Ariel was so much easier than thinking about herself.
“I have an idea,” she told the girl. “After my meeting this afternoon, I’ll fill you in.”
Ariel looked nervous.
“It’s not bad,” Eli assured her. “As a matter of fact, I think this might work out to be a very, very good thing for you.”
Suddenly Ariel’s expression changed to a look children had worn on Christmas Eve for centuries. “Ms. Cartwright, do you want to give me a hint?”
Eli chuckled. “No. But come see me after school.”
“You’re sure?”
“Go. I don’t want you being late for your next class.”
When Ariel left, Eli went back to crunching figures and making sure her facts were in order. She wished she could find the enthusiasm for this meeting she once had. Today everything felt muted. Dampened. As if she were viewing the world through cotton gauze.
She kept eying the clock.
Finally.
Lunchtime.
She stood and smoothed her skirt, then without realizing it, her hand brushed her stomach, as if to make sure her baby was all right.
Baby.
Her baby.
It still felt so unreal. Part of her would have liked to deny the reality, but those six little sticks wouldn’t allow her to.
She had a standing dinner date with Arthur on Friday nights. So tomorrow, she’d tell him. She could almost imagine stoic, dependable Arthur’s reaction. He would probably be as shocked as she was, but he’d be supportive. He’d understand her mixed emotions over this unplanned, life-altering event.
Together, they’d work it out.
Right