Yes, we’d been back to the meadow…and then some.
Mom didn’t know about the pregnancy…yet.
Dad didn’t either…yet.
Darius didn’t know about it either…yet.
So obviously none of them knew I was going to find a way.Iwas going to figure it out.I was keeping our baby.The baby we made togetheramidst his sweetness and kisses that made me melt and tender teasing and thelove in his eyes when he looked at me like there was no other girl in the wholeworld and he was going to be my shelter from every storm until I died…
At least they didn’t know…yet.
But I talked to Mom about Darius and how he had shut down,gone somewhere dark, somewhere scary.
“Grief, sweetheart, it’s nasty business,” Mom had shared.“Iknow you’re grieving Mister Morris too.He was a good man.But you have to seekpatience.Darius will find his way.”
I wasn’t sure.Since that day in the shelves at Fortnum’s,we’d spent as much time together as we could, and if we couldn’t be together,we were on the phone talking to each other about people we knew, dreams we had,plans we needed to make to realize them, and how we felt about each other.
I knew him pretty well.
And this wasn’t him.This flatness.The blankness.Theseething anger barely contained under the surface.
And then there was the fact I was sixteen and pregnant.
Yeah, I had some worries and patience wasn’t going to work.
I couldn’t tell my uterus, “You know, you need to hang tightfor a month or two or eleven while your daddy figures stuff out.You can carryon gestating after that.”
I mean, I could try, but I wasn’t sure he or she wouldlisten.
Now, I had that note from him and I didn’t know what wasinside.
It could be him pouring out his heart to me, doing it onpaper, because boys were weird about showing emotion.
And Lord, he loved his dad.I loved my dad too, like, a lot,but I could see it was a different thing with boys.It was almost worship.AndI understood that.Mister Morris was that kind of man, that kind of father.He’d deserved it.
It could be something else.
I didn’t have time to wait.I had enough to figure out, sothere was no time to wait.
I unfolded the note.
What I read made my insides go hollow.
I didn’t want to, but I forced myself to read it all again.
Lyrics.
To a song.
Nine Inch Nails’ “Hurt.”
With a note at the end that said,We’re done.If youknow what’s good for you, stay away from me.-D
I knew exactly what was good for me, which was why I grabbedthe phone on my bedside table and dialed his home number.
No one answered.
And later, one of the times Miss Dorothea or one of Darius’ssisters answered the phone, they were sweet, they sounded sad, but every singletime, Darius refused to take my calls.
