46
Melinda recovered from this quickly and promptly converted it into her own ammunition.
“So, you know what it feels like, Gab. All the more reason to give this some serious thought.”
“But Melinda,” said Gab, “I’m okay. I didn’t have a dad and I’m fine.”
“Of course you are, honey,” Melinda answered.
“But aren’t you saying that I’m somehow deficient? Because I didn’t grow up with a dad?” Gab struggled to keep her voice polite. She didn’t want to be rude. Melinda had invited her into her home, into her very family. More powerful than these superego admonitions, however, was the thought of hurting Mr. C. by being rude to his wife.
“No, not at all honey,” crooned Melinda, coming back towards her again. “I’m talking about best case scenarios here, and what we can do to make sure your little baby has the best shot at life.”
“It’s just a little bit complicated, Mel,” said Gab.
“I’m sure it is,” agreed Melinda, “but the truth is always best. The truth will set you free.”
Gab sighed, sat down again and laid her head on the table. She felt angry, so angry—at herself.
“I … screwed … up,” she said quietly. “I screwed up so bad!!” She said it loudly the second time, banging the table with her fist. Then she looked up. “I’m SO STUPID! So so so STUPID!” She grabbed the sides of her head in frustration. She wanted to pummel herself, to pull all her hair out! But Melinda was watching and what if she thought Gab was crazy and called the hospital or the police? More mental whiplash at those ideas; Gab stood up quickly again, knocking over her chair and slapping her hands on the table. She’d never lost it like this before.
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
“We all make mistakes, Gab,” Melinda said, her voice quaking slightly in shock at Gab’s outburst. “We all make mistakes. And you made a mistake.”
This was inadvertently the perfect thing for Melinda to say to Gab at that moment—but not in the way Melinda intended. Because now, instead of beating herself up about it all, Gab was suddenly ready to fight for herself. She had been incited—incited into recognising the person she was, into standing up tall. What she had done at that party was not a mistake. It was a mistake, and it wasn’t a mistake. Life wasn’t as simple as black and white. She had to make the best of how things were. And something came into focus right in that moment; Gab knew her own mind. She took a breath. This sense of clarity had re-grounded her. The rollercoaster had pulled in.
She looked Mel right in the eye and took a deep breath.
“I’m not involving this baby’s father,” she said. She didn’t add that it would hurt too many people to do so and would make her look like a cheating wench. “He doesn’t know about the baby.” She hadn’t planned to tell Melinda all this, but now that she’d started, she would continue. “And I’m not going to tell him.”
“But how could you do that to him? To your child?” Melinda was aghast.
“Mel, I know what it’s like to grow up without a dad. And what I’ve always wanted to know is—did he leave because he didn’t want me? Did he know my mum was pregnant? Did he go because of me? I’m not going to risk that for my child. I’m not going to risk having to tell my baby it was rejected before it was even born!” The thought of it made her want to vomit. “I’d rather tell my child that their father really just had no idea!”
“Won’t your child blame you, then? asked Melinda. “Won’t they want to know why you never told him? And … does this mean you aren’t even in a relationship with the baby’s father?” Melinda struggled to hide her disapproval. It was just so far from her own experience; she couldn’t imagine it.
“It doesn’t matter,” said Gab. “And, um, thanks for your kind offer to let me live here once I have the baby. It’s really nice of you. But ... I’m going to stay at uni and keep studying.”
She didn’t talk about whether or not she would keep the baby. It seemed that Melinda assumed she would.