Everything For A Reason...Pt. 7

“So she didn't take the pill?”

I shook my head. Did something funny with my mouth. Crossed my arms across my chest.

“Nope.”

Shrugged,

“But I can't really blame her though.”

I Ran my ring finger around the rim of my glass. Vodka and tonic.

My mother and I had migrated to the garden of her hotel after our waitress (if I can even call her that, it wasn't that type of restaurant) told us that if were weren't going to order anything else we would have to give up the table. My mother wasn't in the mood to cause and neither was I, and so we had left.

My mother shrugged as well.

“I guess so.”

My mother was drinking African tea with spices. She wasn't much of a drinker, in fact she never drank anything stronger than wine and even that on rare occasions and even though it was already past five by this time had looked at me with a queer look when I had ordered my drink. Had said nothing though. She was a firm believer in letting people live their lives and her son was no exception. Which meant that I had gotten myself into quite a number of scrapes over the years. She was always there to bail me out though. With a kind word in one hand and a how could you be so stupid slap in the other.

My mother glanced up at the sky; it was being moody. Mumbling and threatening bad things but I much preferred the nip and the wind to the stuffiness of the hotel lounge. My mother had her cuppa and a shawl wrapped around her shoulders so she was fine but I told her that whenever she felt the weather turned too nasty we could go inside.

She shook her head.

“No, I'm good for now. So...when did you find out that she was--”

“Pregnant?” I interrupted. “A few weeks. Maybe a month, maybe more. I was in Arua at the time, you remember?”

My mother nodded.

“So yeah, it was around that time. She kept on calling me and asking me when I was going to come back, that we needed to talk. I didn't realize at the time how urgent it was but I made a weekend trip down at some point and we had dinner.”

“Where?”

“Is that really important Mom?”

“Just...just indulge me Ben.”

I shrugged.

“Fine. At her place.”

“You didn't--”

“No Mom.” I interrupted before my mother could say it. Took a sip of my drink. “I didn't. We just talked...”




***



I set down my plate. Sat back in the couch. The black leather one that I thought I would never sit in again.

“That was, that was delicious.”

And it had been. It was just the two of us but Sharon had cooked a feast. Had insisted on me having two helpings. I. Was. Full.

“Are you sure you don't want any more?”

I waved away her offer.

“No, no, no, no, no. If I ate anymore I probably wont be able to fit into my shoes. But thanx. A doggy bag maybe? You know how us bachelor's be.”

Sharon smiled, if only briefly.

“How's Richard by the way?”

“You know him, busy still not getting laid.”

The smile began to creep back across Sharon's lips.

“And how about you, are you getting laid?”

She meant it as a joke but it came out as anything but. It was still too soon and both of us knew it. Most. Awkward. Silence. Ever.

Sharon cleared her throat.

“Wine?”

“Please.”

Picking up my twice scraped clean plate, Sharon headed to the kitchen. She was back a moment or two later with a glass of red wine in one hand and a glass of water in the other. She handed me the wine.

“What? You're not having any?”

Sharon shook her head. Took a sip of her water.

“I'm off liquor for a while.”

I coaxed a laugh out of myself. One of those nervous, vain attempt at trying to keep my mounting panic at bay kind of laugh.

“Why? Are you pregnant or something?”

I had meant it as a joke but it had come out as anything but.

“Actually Ben, I am.”

New. Most. Awkward. Silence. Ever.

Leaning forwards, I carefully placed my glass of wine on the small side table. Leaned back again.

“Are you sure?”

Sharon's head jerked back as if she had been punched.

“How could you even say that? You know Ive only slept with you.”

“No, no, no. I didn't mean it like that. I didn't mean it like 'are you sure that it's mine?' I meant it like 'are you sure that you're pregnant at all'.”

Sharon took a moment to digest this. She closed her eyes then opened them.

“I am. I went to my doctor and everything. It's for real.”

My breath began to come in short and shallow bursts. She was pregnant. She was fucking pregnant. For a moment, for a split second I wanted to lash out at her. I told her, I told her, I told her to take the fucking pill. Her with her “whatever happens, happens.” bullshit. Now see what had happened...but I didn't. Took a moment to imagine what she must be going through. It was a pretty messed up situation.

“But I'm not expecting you to do anything.” Sharon said, cutting into my thoughts.

“I abdicate you from any and all responsibility.”

My voice was low when I said,

“That's not your decision to make.”

“You don't have to pretend to be the good guy Ben. I know you want nothing to do with me. I'm giving you a way out. Take it.”

I scoffed.

“You think I'm trying to be the good guy Sharon? Because I'm not. And you know what? You're right, you're absolutely right, I don't want anything to do with you but there is no way I'm going to walk away from that child. And if you think I'm going to do so willingly, you've got another thing coming.”

By this time I was perched on the edge of the couch and my voice was just a few decibels below shouting.

“You. Broke. Up. With. Me. Then you fucked me. On the floor. Like I was nothing more than a common whore.”

Sharon had moved from her seat and was standing above me. She was fuming. More than a little intimidating. I stood up. Matched her height and then some. Looked down at her.

“Why are you surprised Sharon? You were acting like one after all.”

There was a pause. Neither of us said a thing. Glared at each other. I couldn't even hear us breathing. It was like time had simply stopped. Suddenly I regretted what I had said. Was about to try and take it back when,

Slap!

Time began to move again.