No, even though I wasn’t sure if I would ever admit it to him, or if it would ever mean anything, I felt closer to Dean than I had to anybody else in my life. There was no doubt that we were best friends; we could talk for hours on any topic. Our time together was rarely spent doing anything exciting. Mostly, we sat and talked, or we ate something, or we watched television… or sometimes, we did all three at the same time. Now that the weather was better, we’d begun walking outside again, although with my pregnancy undeniable in these late days, I was reluctant to be seen with Dean in public, lest anyone start asking questions.
Sometimes, it felt as though Dean was on the verge of telling me something, something deep and meaningful, and I wasn’t sure whether I was anticipating or dreading what he had to say. I thought maybe he felt something for me; I thought it was possible that he returned my feelings, that he loved me, too. But then again, I couldn’t be sure. He had such a deep sense of doing what was right that in moments of doubt, I wondered if he loved me or was merely determined to do the noble thing, regardless of his feelings for me.
I was increasingly anxious about this, because at the same time that the clock ticked down the last weeks of my pregnancy, Dean had his own personal clock, his own countdown to graduation, and the time that he would leave West Point. I tried not to think about that. I couldn’t imagine living here without him, going through the motions of my life, without knowing that he was living down the road, just moments away if I needed him. When I thought about Dean graduating and moving away, a huge lump froze in my throat, and I had trouble breathing.
But like the birth of our baby, his graduation was an inevitability, and I was going to have to figure out what came next in both cases.
I’d been putting off sharing something important with Dean simply because I was afraid of his reaction. Or maybe more accurately, I was afraid of whether or not I could believe his reaction or trust his response.
But today, in the warm spring air, with the sunshine beaming down on us and we held hands, I gathered the courage to tell Dean the truth.
“Dean.” I shifted a little to lay on my left side and face him, feeling the baby tumble and adjust within me as I settled into the new position. “Ah . . . I’ve made up my mind.”
I felt the change in his hand in mine, the way his fingers gripped me a little tighter. He knew what I was talking about.
“You have? You did?” He turned his head so that his face was inches from mine on the chaise lounge. “When? When did you make up your mind?”
“Oh.” I cast my eyes upward. “You know, I’m not really sure. I think maybe it happened in February, as I was laying on that hospital bed, waiting to find out what was happening with the baby and me. Or maybe it was when my father carried me to the car that night, and I was so terrified. Or . . .” I shrugged. “Maybe it was something I’ve actually known all along, but I was too terrified to acknowledge it.” I slid my gaze to his, thinking that being afraid to admit something important was kind of a theme in my life these days.
“So what are you going to do?” Dean’s thumb drew circles on the back of my hand, but they were not the lazy caresses of a relaxed man. He was definitely nervous about my response.
I took a deep breath. “I’m going to keep the baby.” It was the first time I’d said it out loud. I hadn’t even told my parents; it hadn’t seemed right to tell them before Dean knew. I wanted his reaction first.
“Oh, God.” Dean let out a long swish of breath and rested his head on the back of the chair. “Okay. Okay, then.”
I frowned, not sure what to make of his response.
“I can’t tell what that means,” I ventured. “Are you… happy? Pissed off? Annoyed?”
He turned to smile at me, and the answer was clear in his eyes. “Happy and relieved,” he admitted. “I’d never push you one way or the other, Willow. This decision affects you more than anyone else. But I have to say, I’m kind of excited that when we meet our little girl, it won’t be a hello that leads directly into a goodbye.”
Tears that came all too easily these days spilled out of my eyes. “Yeah, I know what you mean. All along, my mother has been saying that while it’s up to me, she could not imagine being able to say goodbye to her child, to hand over the baby to someone else. At first, I thought she was crazy because not having all that responsibility sounded like the best thing in the world to me. But now—” I rubbed the side of my stomach where the baby’s hand was stretching out, making a bulge in my skin. “I can’t explain it. She doesn’t feel like a chore or a responsibility to me anymore. Now she feels like this little person who’s been on an adventure with me all these months, and the idea of not seeing what happens next with the two of us would be so sad.”
“I understand that. Or at least I understand it as much as a guy can.” Dean was quiet for a few minutes. “Have you thought about what you want to do then, after she’s born?”
This was the hard part. This was where I had to walk a line between being honest and not forcing Dean into an obligation he’d never asked to have.
“I haven’t thought much beyond the delivery room,” I admitted. “I haven’t talked to my parents yet because I wanted to tell you first.”
“Thank you for that.” Dean lifted my hand up to his lips, his eyes never leaving mine, and pressed a quick, fervent kiss to my knuckles.
I willed my treacherous heart to stop fluttering. “But I think I’m going to see if I can stay here for a few more months, at least until I figured out this whole mothering thing. Since Dad signed the new contract, I don’t have to worry about my parents moving this year, and I could have a little bit of stability. And then maybe…” I shrugged. “I’ll start looking for some kind of teaching job somewhere. Either at a college or a private school or something like that. If I could find a situation that includes housing for the baby and me, that would be optimal. I’d love to be close enough to my parents that I would have help if I needed it, but I don’t want to live with them long-term.” I lifted my chin. “It’s time for me to be on my own. Part of making this decision is realizing that no matter how much help I have, at the end of the day it’s just going to be the baby and me.”
“Hey.” Dean touched my chin with two of his fingers, urging me to look at him. “You’re leaving one important factor out of that equation, Willow. And that’s me. You don’t have to be on your own. I don’t want you to cut me out of the baby’s life. Or out of yours.”
I waited to see if he was going to say anything else. I waited, silently, willing him to tell me that he loved me, to ask me to make plans with him for a life that we would live together. I didn’t have any clue how that might look—with his career and a new baby and the two of us just finding our way—but if he had given me any indication that he wanted that, that he wantedme, I would’ve moved heaven and earth to make it work.
But when Dean didn’t say anything more, I refused to let him see how much that hurt me. Instead, despite all of my honorable intentions, I spoke from that place of pain.
“Dean, while I appreciate you saying that, the reality of it is that you’re going to be living your own life. You’re going to graduate, and then you have six weeks of leave, during which time I expect you want to go home and see your mother, at least. And then you’ll go to officer basic at Fort Benning, and then to your first duty post in Kentucky.” I was familiar now with the process, having been part of so many conversations with Dean on how things worked for a cadet after graduating from West Point. “Wherever you end up, it won’t be here. And you’re going to be so busy learning how to be an army officer, and adjusting to your first post… the last thing you’re going to need is to worry about a baby you never planned to have.”
“Willow, that’s not fair.” Dean let go of my hand and swung his legs down to plant them on the ground, sitting on the edge of the lounge chair. “It’s not like I have a lot of choice in this matter, and you know it. I can’t tell the Army that I’d like to stay here at West Point, thank you very much, just because I—" He broke off, and I knew he’d been about to snap out something that we both would have regretted.
I bowed my head so that he couldn’t see the hurt on my face. “This is what I’m saying, Dean. The Army has got to be your first priority right now. Sitting here, it’s easy to say that I won’t be alone, that you are in it with me, but I can’t believe those promises – not because I don’t trust you,” I hastened to add when I saw the expression of disbelief and upset on his face. “That’s not it. But you have your future, and I have mine. I will never stop you from seeing the baby or from taking part in her life however that looks.” I paused, struggling to get my emotions under control. “But I’m going to make all of my plans on the assumption that I’ll be on my own.”
The garden was silent, except for the insistently cheerful chirping of birds and the subtle brush of the breeze through new green leaves on the trees that surrounded us.
At last, Dean lifted miserable eyes to me. “I don’t know what you want from me, Willow,” he said hoarsely. “I don’t know what I have to give you. I don’t know what’s right anymore. I used to know—" He broke off and shook his head. “Just doing the right thing, following the rules, and sticking to the straight and narrow road was easy. That was how I got by. That was how I got out of a dead-end town and ended up here, the greatest opportunity of my life. But now, what feels right to me is what everyone else will say is wrong. And all I know for sure is—" He stopped speaking again and buried his face in his hands. “All I know is that no matter which way I turn, no matter which choice I make, I’m going to lose something. And I’m going to hurt someone.”
