The Gift

“Neither one. I did something really stupid.” She decided to make a clean breast of it with him. She wanted no secrets from him. “I did it once. With someone I hardly knew. I wasn't even out on a date with him. He took me home from a dance where my date got drunk, and he was kind of the senior hero. I guess I was flattered he'd even talk to me, and he was a lot smoother than I bargained for. He made a big fuss over me, and took me out for a hamburger with his friends, and I thought it was great, and then he stopped somewhere to park on the way home. I didn't want to go, but I didn't want to make a big deal about it either, and he gave me a sip of gin, and then …” she looked down at her protruding belly “…you can figure out the rest. He said he didn't think I could get pregnant. He'd broken up with his girlfriend that weekend, or so he said, and on Monday he went back to her, and I had made a total fool of myself. Better than that, I'd destroyed my life for a guy I didn't even know, and who would never care about me. It took me a while to figure out what had happened, and by the time I did, he was engaged. They got married right after graduation.”

“Did you tell him?”

“Yeah, I did. He said he wanted to marry her, and she'd be really pissed if she knew … I didn't want to ruin his life … or my own. I wouldn't tell my parents who he was, because I didn't want my father forcing him to marry me. I don't want to be married to someone who doesn't love me. I'm sixteen. My life would be over. But on the other hand,” she sighed as she sat, looking despondent, “my life may be over anyway. This hasn't exactly been a brilliant move on my part.”

“What did your parents say?” He was overwhelmed by what she was telling him, the insensitivity of the guy, and her courage at not doing what she didn't want to, in the face of disaster.

“My father said I had to move out. He took me to the Sisters of Charity, and I was supposed to live with them until I had it. But I just couldn't do it. I stayed for a few weeks, and it was so depressing, I figured I'd rather starve, so I left and got on a bus, and came here. I bought a ticket to Chicago, and figured I'd try to get a job there, but we stopped here for dinner and I saw the sign in Jimmy's window. They gave me the job, and I got off the bus, and here I am.” She looked vulnerable and incredibly young, and very beautiful as he watched her, overcome with tenderness and admiration. “My dad says I can come home after Christmas, after I have the baby. I'll go back to school then,” she said weakly, trying to make it sound okay, but even to her own ears, it sounded dismal.

“What are you going to do with the baby?” he asked, still amazed at what had happened to her.

“Give it away …put it up for adoption. I want to find good people to take it. I can't take care of it. I'm sixteen. I can't take care of a baby … I have nothing to give it … I don't know what to do for it. I want to go back to school … I want to go to college … if I keep the baby, I'll be stuck forever …and more than that, I'd have nothing to give it. I want to find a family that really wants it. The nuns said they'd help me, but that was back home … I haven't done anything about it here.” She looked nervous as she talked to him about it, and he was stunned by all that she was saying.

“Are you sure you don't want to keep it?” He couldn't imagine giving a baby away. Even to him, it sounded awful.

“I don't know.” She could feel the baby moving as she said it, as though it were fighting for some small voice in the decision. “I just don't see how I could take care of it. My parents wouldn't help me. I can't make enough money to support it … it wouldn't be fair to the baby. And I don't want a baby now. Is that really awful?” Her eyes filled with tears and she looked at him in despair. It was terrible admitting she didn't want this baby, but she didn't. She didn't love Paul, and she didn't want to have a child, or be responsible for someone else's life. She could hardly manage her own, let alone someone else's. She was only sixteen.

“Wow, Maribeth. You've got your hands full.” He moved closer to her, and put an arm around her again, and pulled her close to him. “Why didn't you say anything? You could have told me.”

“Oh yeah, sure … hi, my name is Maribeth, I'm knocked up by a guy who married someone else, and my parents threw me out …how about taking me to dinner?” He laughed at what she said, and she smiled through her tears, and then suddenly she was in his arms and crying with terror and shame, and relief that she had told him. The sobs that racked her drained her of all energy, and he held her until she stopped. He felt desperately sorry for her, and the baby.

“When's it due?” he asked when she had calmed down again.

“Not till the end of December.” But that was only four months away, and they both knew it would come very quickly.

“Have you seen a doctor here?”