Chapter 8

chapter 8

. . .

T omorrow, I’m moving into a two-bedroom apartment with Katelyn and Mason. It’s technically on the edge of campus, but still on school property, and while Mason believes he’s the one who secured it, Mrs. DeFasio pulled a lot of strings behind the scenes. I’ll never tell Mason though because he’s proud of what he’s done, and I’m very appreciative of him.

With the help of our families, we’ve been able to secure enough furniture for our new place. I don’t know if it’s a blessing or not, but I’m thankful the apartment doesn’t come furnished. I’ve seen some of the furnished townhouses and there’s no way I’d sit on a couch, lie in a bed, or let my child come home to a place like that. The cleaning staff hired by the school doesn’t have enough tools to clean those messes.

My parents are letting me take my bed from my bedroom, which is a twin, but perfect for the room I’ll share with my child. The rest of our new stuff has come from second-hand stores, yard sales, and donations. It doesn’t matter because it’ll be ours and it’ll be perfect.

I stand in the doorway and look at my bed. My mom has washed and folded my blankets and sheets, and they’re ready to go to our apartment. It’s not the pile of bedding that keeps me there, but the memory of the last time Liam and I were together. The night we created the life growing inside of me. The baby of ours that will be born soon.

In my hand is the picture of Liam I kept on my bedside table. I don’t want to look at him anymore. The memories are too painful and have been exacerbated by his fame. I try not to look when I’m in the store and when I hear his voice come on the radio, I turn it off. Watching television is near impossible because he’s everywhere. He has a girlfriend, or so the tabloids say. As much as I try to avoid everything, I can’t. He’s always there, lingering. Never far from my thoughts or anything else in my life. Hour upon hour, I feel his son or daughter kicking me, reminding me of their presence. Not that I’ve forgotten, even though there were times when I wanted to sign my name on the dotted line and give this child up. I couldn’t do it. Despite everything, I love this baby.

I take one of the empty boxes and set it on my bed. I add the photo and then walk around my room, gathering everything Liam related I can find. His shirts, the roses from prom, his love letters. Each memory goes into the box, which will go into my closet for a rainy day that’ll never ever come.

One by one, I close this chapter of all the dreams we shared. Each one, shattered beyond repair. I can’t fix this or him. He was pretending with me, acting like someone he wasn’t because of his father. If Liam had been honest, maybe I wouldn’t be alone right now.

I look around my room for more Liam. There was so much at one point and now there seems to be nothing. The last thing I add is a photo of us: me in my cheerleading outfit and him in his football uniform. We were picture perfect. The “it” couple. And now look at us.

“I will always love you,” I say to the contents of the box, which have now become Liam. I set the lid over the top and carry it to my closet. Someday, when our child is old enough to understand, I’ll give them the box. That’s all I can do. It’s not like they’ll be able to see their father unless they buy a ticket to one of his meet and greets.

If that ever happens, I’ll be right there.

After I finish packing, my mom suggests we go to the mall. Walking is good for me, according to the doctor, so she’s always trying to make sure I’m getting enough exercise.

“Can we stop at Babies ‘R Us?” I ask when we get into the car, turning the radio off immediately.

“What on earth do you need from there?” she asks as she backs out of the driveway. The truth is, probably nothing, since my parents have made sure this child has everything. I didn’t have a baby shower, mostly because I’m embarrassed by my situation and I didn’t want to answer any questions about where Liam is, how I like his music, what the fuck happened, and my favorite, how are you doing?

How the fuck do you think I’m doing, Shirley?

Besides, there isn’t anyone I would want to invite aside from my mom, Katelyn, and Mason’s mom.

“I don’t know. I feel unprepared.” My hand rests on my belly, and this baby thinks it’s time to play a game. They kick me and I tap back.

“You’ll always be unprepared. It’s called parenting. If there is something you need, your dad and I will get it for you. Spend your money on food and bills.”

What money I do have, I’ve earned while working at a florist shop near campus. I never knew how exciting it was putting bouquets together. Setting up floral arrangements is an art, and I love it.

Mom pulls into the parking lot of the mall, near JC Penney. When we get inside, she heads to the towel section while I head to the baby section. Most of the stuff I have for this baby is neutral-colored. I could’ve found out what I’m having, but I wanted to be surprised. The drawback is not knowing what to buy.

I meander through the clothes and pick up two outfits. On my way to find my mom, I see Bianca. I stop suddenly and so does she. I expect her to walk right by me, ignoring me, but she doesn’t. I let her stare at my stomach, to get a good look at the parting gift her son left and hope she’s dying a bit on the inside. There isn’t a doubt in my mind she knows where Liam is. All she has to do is call and tell him and he’ll come back. I know he will.

She opens her mouth to say something and then closes it. Her eyes meet mine and there’s a void. Bianca lacks life. There’s no happiness or sorrow in her expression. She’s stoic.

“ My mother’s a robot ,” Liam used to say.

I’m about to say something when I see my mother step out onto the walkway. She will cause a scene, and rightly so, but this isn’t the time nor the place. I sidestep Bianca and paste a happy smile on my face as I hold the two new outfits up.

“What do you think?”

“Is that?—”

I turn and see Bianca retreating. I don’t need my mom to ask if it was Bianca. I already know she suspects it was her. I shake my head. “No, just some woman looking for directions.”

I’m not sure if my mom believes me or not. As long as there isn’t a scene in the store, I don’t care.

After our stop, she takes me out for ice cream since the guys are loading up the trucks for our big move tomorrow and there isn’t anything I can do, other than supervise and bark out orders. I order a large sundae, with hot fudge, sprinkles, whip cream and a cherry on top. I don’t plan to share with her either.

“You know, you can move home and I’ll help with the baby,” she says after she places her order for a banana spilt. As much as I don’t plan on sharing, I do plan to take some bites of hers and wonder if I should change my order.

“I know,” I tell her. “But this is something I need to do on my own. I appreciate you and Dad so much.”

“We just want what’s best for you.”

And I just want Liam back.

It’s moving day, and aside from suggesting where our couch should go, I’m up in my room, which is also the nursery, decorating. I went with a teddy bear theme, figuring it was neutral enough for a boy or a girl. My dad and Mason’s dad put the baby’s crib together, and Mason’s mom cleaned our apartment with every lemon product she could find.

Katelyn helps me put decorations up on the baby’s side of the room. We fold clothes, burp rags, receiving blankets, and an assortment of other items. The baby’s going-home outfit is a Beaumont football footed pajama ensemble with a hat, from uncle Mason as he’s now calling himself. I thought it was cute that he bought the baby something and he’s been my rock since my second trimester. He even went to Lamaze class with me, to help with the early part of labor. I haven’t decided yet if he’s going to be in the delivery room. Sometimes I think he is because he’s earned it, but then I think it might be odd for him.

I stopped being mad Mason a long time ago. There was no point. He did what Liam ended up doing in the end—following his heart and his dreams. Katelyn is Mason’s whole world. Music is Liam’s. It’s a hard pill to swallow sometimes, knowing you’re not enough. Mason made me enough when he didn’t have to. He stepped in for Liam and made me a priority. I’ll never be able to thank him for putting me first when the father of my baby didn’t.

Well, he couldn’t.

It’s hard to tell someone you’re pregnant when they change their phone number. I wouldn’t know how to get a hold of him if I tried, short of going to a concert and holding up a sign that says: You have a kid. I’m sure if I did that, I’d be booted from the venue.

Katelyn sets up the changing table, stacking diapers, lotions, and creams while I head down to the kitchen and start organizing the shelves. I’ve saved enough money to pay my portion of the rent through the summer and will return to work part-time when the baby is two months. I’d love to be one of those mothers who can stay home and raise their child, but that’ll never be me, and honestly, I’m okay with it.

My dream, the one I shared with Liam, isn’t coming to fruition. It’s laughable now that I think of it because we were sixteen when we talked about him being in the NFL and us living in a house with a white picket fence. He was going to be this famous quarterback and I was going to be his wife. Now, he’s a famous musician and I’m a single mom.

If you ask me, I got the better part of the dream.

I’ll always have a piece of Liam, while he’ll never have any part of me ever again. I hope the memories he has of me haunt him until he can’t take it any longer, and then I hope they haunt him even more.

At some point, someone calls for pizza and my stomach growls loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Yes,” Mason says as he gives my stomach a high five. “That’s my niece or nephew.”

Everyone laughs, including the baby, by kicking me so hard, their elbow pushes my skin out.

With all the parents helping, except for Katelyn’s, our apartment is set up, unpacked, and ready to go in a day. The three of us stand there, in the confines of our living room and look around. This wasn’t what I pictured my first apartment to be, especially the roommates, but I’m in love. It’s ours and it’s a safe place to bring this baby home to.

“Will the lemon scent ever go away?” Katelyn asks.

“Yep, the first time this kid craps,” I say.

“Or I use the bathroom,” Mason adds, causing us all to laugh.

Only when I laugh, I have to pee and excuse myself to use the bathroom.