Throw Down Your Weapons
I didn’t understand it at all, but Asher didn’t run after I told him about my pregnancy. If anything, he became even more clingy. A few times a week, when he wasn’t in class, he would come to the store and eat lunch with me and then just hang out until he started to get on Joey’s nerves. At first it was just on the weekend, but eventually he was spending almost every night at my apartment, since it was no farther from NYU than his own. With classes, band practice and concerts, it wasn’t like he was there that much. It was easy enough for me to ignore the fact that he had practically moved in.
It was really just nice to have someone who didn’t hide or try to pretend that they didn’t want to be with me. It was nice to have a relationship that just worked so easily. Whether Asher was really the guy I wanted to be with… that was irrelevant, I decided.
Even though the relationship was moving along—quickly for just a few weeks, I knew—we decided not to spend Christmas together. I had a feeling his family wouldn’t have approved of anything about me, even if I hadn’t been pregnant, and I wasn’t sure I even wanted to tell my family. Of course I had to eventually; it was getting harder and harder to hide by the day. But springing the news on my own without Asher there to complicate things more seemed like the way to go.
I didn’t know why I thought it would make a difference. Apparently just a year had been long enough for me to forget how crowded Aunt Susanna and Uncle Max’s house was at the holidays. Family from all over the state and even the country—those who didn’t mind braving New York winters, that is—gathered at their house in Saratoga Springs. There were so many people that a lot of them ending up staying at hotels in the city, but I got to stay in my old bedroom. It had been my cousin Jaclyn’s first, but she had moved out for college several years before I was forced to move in with my aunt and uncle. The room had only been mine for a year, so it hardly looked like mine at all. When I woke up there on Christmas eve morning, it took me a few minutes to remember where I was. Once I did, I could hear vague shuffling sounds and muffled voices, so I knew the rest of the family was starting to arrive.
I showered and got dressed before heading downstairs. I should have showered the night before to get the icky bus smell off, but I’d been too tired. Once I was clean, I got dressed in a big bulky sweater dress that helped cover the small bump I’d grown. I combed out my hair, which I hadn’t had time to dye lately so the brown roots were starting to show, but didn’t bother putting on any makeup. It was still early; I could worry about looking presentable after breakfast.
The first floor wasn’t as crowded yet as I expected it to be, although a few cousins and such were wandering around. Jaclyn’s twins were sitting at the kitchen table eating bagels; I wasn’t surprised to see them already, since Jaclyn and her husband just lived on the other side of town. Aunt Susanna was bent down to look in the refrigerator, so she didn’t notice me until I cleared my throat.
“Oh, Colby,” she said, glancing up. “I was just about to come wake you up when I heard the shower. Jac brought bagels and lox, and I was thinking about making frittatas. And there’s still some coffee if you want a cup or two.”
Aunt Susanna never stopped moving—at least, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen her sit still for more than a few minutes at a time. I knew it wouldn’t be long before she had all of us in the kitchen helping to prepare the Christmas feast that we would still be eating leftovers of days later.
“What would you like?” She asked, grabbing a coffee cup and starting to pour a cup for me.
“No coffee,” I replied. “I’ll just have juice.”
She eyed me suspiciously. “Are you sure? Because I’m going to make frittatas anyway, whether you want one or not… and I seem to recall that you used to love my frittatas, so…”
I sighed. “Just the cheese and mushrooms in mine, if you don’t mind.”
“You’re not doing one of those vegetarian diets, are you?” She asked, cracking a couple eggs into a bowl.
This was happening all wrong. This wasn’t how I was supposed to break the news to her, not over breakfast with all the stress of the day still to come and two of my baby cousins within earshot. Everything was all wrong. But how was that anything new?
“No, but I…” I began, then sighed. “I can’t eat fish right now. Or drink coffee.”
I watched Aunt Sus, waiting to see if that would be enough for her to connect the dots. At first, I wasn’t sure that she had, as she continued mixing her ingredients as though I hadn’t said anything. A second later, her head raised slowly and she mouthed one word—pregnant?
I nodded.
The whisk fell from her hand, and I braced myself for her reaction. Her lips twitched like she was going to say something, and I could even see a few tears gathering in her eyes.
“Aunt Sus… I’m… I’m so sorry,” I said.
She shook her head, then rushed around the counter to wrap me up in her arms. “It’s not… no, I’m just… oh, honey. I’m sorry. I just hate that I’m the person you’re telling instead of your mom. These are the kind of milestones you ought to be sharing with Glory, not with me.”
Glory was her nickname for my mom—Maria Gloria, her best friend since elementary school. The only time the two of them had ever fought had been when Aunt Sus started dating mom’s older brother… who she married a month after they graduated from high school, thus securing her place as my aunt. Christmas without her best friend turned sister was already hard on her; I hadn’t even thought about how much harder my news would make it.
“Oh, Aunt Sus…” I said, feeling myself starting to tear up the tighter she hugged me.
“What’s wrong?” Olivia asked from the table. I’d forgotten she and Alex were sitting there.
Aunt Susanna peeled herself away from me and gave her a smile. “Nothing, Livvy. We’re crying happy tears.”
After she said it, I realized she was right. Even though everything about the situation was wrong, I couldn’t help being happy about the baby. I didn’t understand it, but it was how I felt.
Although the rest of the holiday was about the little kids, I spent most of Christmas Eve answering—or dodging—questions. Aunt Sus couldn’t keep her mouth shut, but I had expected that. I had mentioned Asher once or twice, so they all made their own assumptions. The fact that I was seemingly happy about the pregnancy, and right then I actually was, gave everyone else in my family permission to be happy about it too, I supposed.
More than once during the celebration, someone chastised me for not breaking the news sooner so they could have bought presents for me and the baby. I reminded them that I was still only in my first trimester, but it didn’t seem to put a damper on their enthusiasm. I knew I was getting in over my head, but I didn’t know what to do about it. As the day wore on, my happiness waned and I went back to feeling like being pregnant was a curse.
Later in the day, once everyone had gone back to their own homes or hotels, I found myself just sitting in the living room with a glass of apple cider and a plate full of cookies. Miracle on 34th Street was on television and I couldn’t tear my eyes away from it. It was my favorite Christmas movie; I remembered watching it for the first time at my grandparents’ house the Christmas before Grandma died. After that, Grandpa moved to Italy to get back to his roots. I remembered hearing Mom call it a three quarter life crisis, which I didn’t understand at the time. All I knew was that things changed, but somehow those changes didn’t taint my memory of the movie.
“Still your favorite?” Aunt Susanna asked. I hadn’t even heard her walk into the room.
“Yeah,” I replied. “And so are your oatmeal cookies.”
“I made those just for you. I think you and me are the only ones who like them,” she said, sitting down next to me on the couch. It was then that I noticed the box she was carrying, which she sat in her lap.
“I thought we were done with gifts,” I said.
“We were,” Aunt Sus said, sliding the box into my lap. “But I hadn’t planned on this one. And it’s just the first of many, but with all the Christmas decorations out, the attic was too much of a mess for me to find the rest…”
I frowned, not understanding at all. The box had my name on it, though, so I peeled back the paper and opened it. When I lifted the lid, I saw a pastel quilt that was very familiar to me. It was my own baby quilt, one that I knew Mom and Susanna had sewn together. I looked up at her, puzzled. “Why did you…?”
“It was all I could find, like I said,” she replied. “I have all your baby things here. I didn’t know what else to do with them, and I knew you didn’t want to help clean out the house, so… I just packed it all up and stored it here. Maybe you didn’t even know your mom kept it all, but she did.”
I shook my head. “I didn’t know.”
“Well, it’s all here, if you ever want to go through it,” Aunt Sus said. “I’m sure you don’t know yet what you’re having, but the quilt is neutral enough. If it’s a girl, though, there are a million adorable little outfits waiting for her up there.”
“I’ll umm… I won’t find out for over a month. I haven’t even thought about names or anything….”
Aunt Sus nodded and rubbed my back. “That’s okay, sweetie. You have plenty of time. Where is your… what did you say his name was, Asher?”
“Yeah,” I replied, swallowing around the lump that formed in my throat to remind me that I was lying to her. “He’s, umm, he’s with his family.”
“You two will have plenty of time to figure everything out,” she said. “And you know if you need anything at all, we’re here for you. But you can handle yourself. I know I keep… hovering and trying to be a mother to you, and Max keeps reminding me you’re a grown woman now… I mean, you went all over the country on your own this fall, didn’t you?”
I nodded. “Yeah, well… not by myself, but…”
“Even so, I keep seeing you as little Colby. Now you’re going to have a little Colby.” She smiled when she said the last part, and I felt a little sick that she was so happy for me, when she really shouldn’t have been. “Now, I know you don’t need money or anything, but if you need anything else, you know I did have a few children of my own. Anything at all you need or if you just want to talk…”
“Yeah,” I said, nodding. “I know. And… thanks, Aunt Sus.”
She pulled me into her arms again, and although I hugged her back, I felt sick. It wasn’t as though I had told her Asher was the father, but she assumed. And I let her assume. In the end, it was just as bad as lying. The result was the same. The truth was hidden and I felt like a horrible person who didn’t deserve a tenth of the support my family was giving me.