“”We’re Going to be Friends” by the White Stripes played on the radio as I looked out of the car window. My friend had her eyes on the road; I could tell she was unsure of what to say to me. All I wanted was to forget everything; I begged my mind to run away.
“Do you feel alright? You look green…”
I looked at Steffi and shrugged. She still had her eyes on the road. This was the most focused I have ever seen her; usually she was doing thousands of things at once.
“My stomach has been upset for the past three days. I am use to it.”
My voice was still shaky; no amount of false confidence could hide the fear in me. Steffi looked at me for just a second then bit her lip. Slowly she put her hand onto mine. Her hand looked delicate and welcoming against my clammy palms.
“Everything is going to be alright. We will think of something…”
I had to smile at Steffi’s reassurance; I think I needed it more than anything in this world. Steffi is the sister I always wanted. She was the first person I came to for help, and Steffi made sure I did not collapse last week. The trees on the side of the road blurred; making me feel even sicker to my stomach. So many thoughts were racing inside my head, everything is foreign to me. I can feel the street below, memorizing every bump as we approach closer to my house. I know this road like the back of my hand, and yet there is something different about it. Perhaps I am seeing my home town with different eyes. Steffi drove to the front of my house to drop me off. She was not going inside with me; this was going to be my battle. Before I got out of the car, Steffi had her arms around me. I buried my head into her hair; her familiar vanilla smell stopped me from crying.
“I love you and so do your parents. I want you to remember that. Call me after you talk to them…”
I parted with Steffi, the tears welling up with the absence of her caring nature. When her Jeep was out of view I considered whether or not I should go into my own house. After what seemed like centuries I decided that I had to go inside, it was almost time for dinner and I was already ten minutes late. The front yard of my family’s house was like every other on this street. Our house had no personality; this was probably because my family lived a busy life. Both my parents were workaholics and I can’t stand being alone for more than twenty minutes. Slowly, I fiddled with my keys until I finally opened the green, wooden door. As I walked inside I could smell my Mother’s pot roast cooking and could hear her arguing with the politicians on the news. My Dad was not home yet but I knew he would be in only a few minutes. He was never late for dinner unless he had a big business deal and such things were rare now.
“Marcy, take your shoes off in front of the door! I just washed the floors. I don’t need you to track dirt into my clean house.”
My Mother always knew who was entering her house, even if I was coming in with a friend. I kneeled down and unlaced my combat boots. The lace I had tied it with was breaking and I knew that soon I would have to trade for shoe laces. After fighting to get my boots off I walked into the kitchen and sat down at the kitchen table.
“What is wrong with you people? Stop trying to steal my money!”
My Mom instantly turned the channel, her face red from the heat in the kitchen and her anger at the debate on the news. She was still wearing her suit from work and her hair was coming undone from a once sophisticated bun. My Mom worked as an attorney, a job that she claims, “Is the pride and joy of her years of intense work”. I never understood my parent’s love for work. Personally, I dislike both of their jobs and would never consider putting myself through the things they put up with. I watched the television and soon feel into a day dream state. When the timer began to beep to take the pot roast out, I could hear my Father opening the door.
“Please take your shoes off Sam! Dinner is ready. Can you put your briefcase in the closet? Yesterday you left it on the couch and I do hate it when our living room looks like a mess.”
I could hear my Dad obeying my Mother’s commands while complaining about her bossiness. The table was being set and the food placed in the middle. Unlike every other day, I just watched my Mom put everything together. I wanted her to pay as little attention to me as possible before I spoke to them. I fidgeted with my nails, which were already damaged from my nervous picking. My Dad walked into the dining room and my Mom sat down in her chair while putting food onto her plate. I put little food onto my plate but I knew I would not be eating much. I waited for my parents to get comfortable before I said anything.
“How was your day with Steffi? Had any fun at the movies?”
I took a deep breath and looked at my Mom. She was still waiting for me to answer her question.
“Are you alright? You look green…”
My Dad turned to look at me after my Mom’s observation. I couldn’t keep my secret inside me any longer. My heart was spilling over.
“I am pregnant…”