Her hands shook. Her mind raced. Her heart ached. Her stomach, felt like someone had slit it open, grabbed a fist full of intestines and tugged at them, disemboweling her out onto the coffee shop floor. She was hurt. She was in pain. She was an absolute mess. But looking at her, you wouldn't have guessed. Every hair was in place, every nail filed, every nail polished, every article of clothing wrinkle free, every accessory chosen and placed to picture perfection.
A sigh. Long and deep. Border line depressed, border line detest, full blown hopelessness. Samantha took a sip of her mocha. Her mocha that had just a nip of whiskey in it. Just enough to give the coffee a little bite.
Ever since she had found out, Samantha had been carrying around a quarter of the stuff everywhere. It helped dull the sharp pain in her brain she got every time she let herself think about it. The alcohol made it all just a little bit more bearable.
Another sip, another sigh...where the hell was he? She had called Robert four times already. Each time he had given her some bull about being stuck in traffic. She was tempted to call again but resisted the itch. After all, what would be the point? He would probably just tell her that he was still stuck in traffic anyway. Just as Samantha was thinking this though, the coffee shop door opened and in walked Robert. He took a moment to look around, spotted Samantha and headed in her direction.
“Sorry I'm so late,” he said as he sat down, “the traffic is CRAZY. How are you? You sounded a little scary on the phone.”
Robert reached for Samantha's hand that rested on the table, tapping the table cloth near her cup of coffee. Samantha withdrew it, however, and raised it to get the attention of a waiter.
“Why don't you order something? The coffee's really good here.”
Robert peered at Samantha over the top of his glasses.
“I know Samantha, I'm the one who first brought you here. Did I do something wrong?”
Samantha didn't answer him but instead gave her attention to the waiter who was already standing by the table.
“Hi,” Samantha said to the waiter, “my friend would like to order something.”
The waiter turned to Robert.
“I would.” Robert directed at the waiter, “but could you give me a minute to look through the menu? I'll call you over when I'm ready.”
The waiter nodded. “No problem sir.”
“Thank you.” Robert said and the waiter was gone.
“Now would you like to tell me what's going on?” Robert directed at Samantha. The bewilderment he felt more than a little obvious in his voice.
Samantha pointed at the wedding band on Robert's left hand, “How's Patricia?”
Robert looked down at the band then back up at Samantha.
“She's fine. She wanted to come but I told her I thought it was best that I came alone. She's worried about you, just like I am. What's going on?”
Samantha took a sip of her coffee.
“Do you know that Ive been drinking? And not just that social crap either. But like drinking solo every night in my flat until I pass out kind of drinking. I'm actually pretty drunk right now. This coffee is probably like half whiskey by now. Wanna sip?” Samantha held out her mug.
Robert took the mug and sniffed at it, his face screwing involuntarily into one of disgust. He set it down in front of him, out of Samantha's reach.
“Jesus Samantha! It's 4:30 in the afternoon. Are you-”
“We agreed.” Samantha cut in. her voice was suddenly harrowed. Her countenance suddenly near tears. “We agreed Robert- no babies. Not yet. Not until I wanted them.”
And it was at these words that Robert saw Samantha for the first time. For the first time since he walked in. She was a wreck. Her body slouched. Her eyes sad and rimmed with red. Her make up haphazardly done. Her normally clear skin scattered with spots. And she stunk. My gosh did she stink. The smell of alcohol came off of her in waves.
Robert sat back in his seat. His next words almost a whisper.
“Oh my God. What are you saying? That you're pregnant?”
Samantha swallowed. Wet her lips. Tried to maintain her composure. Looked Robert in the eye but the words just couldn't come out. They got stuck on the way out, lodged in her throat. And so directing her gaze to the safety of table cloth directly in front of her, Samantha managed a nod. She was pregnant.
Robert felt his heart do a back flip. Because even though Samantha had made it clear that she was not yet ready to be a mother, this was something Robert had wanted for a long time. Something that both he AND his wife had wanted for a long time. Little Shanice would finally have someone to play with. The truth is, Robert was elated. And he was more than sure that he could win over Samantha. All he needed was time.
Robert leaned forwards. Cleared his throat. “Listen, Sam, I know we didn't plan this and I'm fully aware that you feel you're not yet ready but maybe God allowed this to happen for a reason.”
Samantha looked up from the table cloth, there was something different in her eye, a resolve in her voice that wasn't there before. Samantha met Robert's gaze.
“I didn't call you to try and convince me Robert. I called you to tell you that I need the money to get rid of it. I have an appointment for tomorrow morning. Now, are you going to give me the money or not?”
