Since his car is at my place, I offer to pick him up so he doesn’t have to take a taxi.
I arrive to get him. He gets in the car and asks again why I’m crying. I hand him the pregnancy test.
He looks at it and says….“Well, you got what you wanted a baby and no guy.”
I reply, “Yeah, that’s every girl’s dream.”
He then says, “If it’s real that is.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You could have used Kool-aid on the stick.”
My mind is reeling in many different directions, but the idea that he would even think that wasn’t one of them.
I reply, “I didn’t even know you could do that (which come to find out later, you can’t—and just goes to show you how much he knows).”
Then my phone rings, and it’s my sister calling me back. I know she is at work and doesn’t have time to really talk. I say, “Hey.”
She says, “What’s going on?”
I cut to the chase, as I begin to cry, I say, “I’m pregnant.”
She says, “Oh sh*t.”
I reply, “I know. Jason is in the car, can I call you back?”
I hang up with her and don’t bother even looking at Jason. He says, “Well we gotta get married.”
I reply in complete shock, “What?”
“I’m not having a kid out of wedlock.”
“Well, good thing you’re not having the kid then.”
He asks what I’m going to do. At this precise moment, I want to run away and act like it doesn’t exist. I want to be somewhere else, anywhere else. I just don’t want to think about it, deal with it, or talk about it. I just don’t want “it” to exist. Can I live in denial, even a little longer?!
The rest of the car ride to my place is awkward at best. He doesn’t say the “right” things, and I’m sure I don’t react the “right” way. I need time to absorb things…just as I’m sure he does too.
When we arrive at my place, I expect him to put his already packed stuff in his car and be on his way. Instead, I go to my room and lay on my chaise lounge, and I hear him gathering his stuff. He keeps asking, “What do you want?”
I won’t reply, so he asks again. Then I reply, “I don’t know.”
Apparently this isn’t satisfactory or he doesn’t hear me, because he asks a third time. Not moving from my fetal position on my chaise, I yell, “I want to be left alone,” as tears crawl down my face.
He comes into my bedroom, goes to the base of the chaise, and slowly turns me on my back. He kneels between my legs, and we face each other. I don’t move, yet can feel my face being overtaken by tears.
He reassures me that everything is going to be okay. That he wants the baby and wants to be with me. He tells me how hard the last few days have been for him, because all he wanted to do was come back home (to my place).
I believe his sincerity and think maybe this means we have a chance for things to work out. Maybe we can talk about what happened and what we need to work on for this relationship to be successful.
He has to go to help his boss with something but wants to know if he can leave his stuff at my place, come back after helping his boss, and talk about it more. I agree to it.
My mood that day is emotional at best. One minute I feel fine, the next minute I am crying. I can’t figure it out, even if I try, how I will feel from one second to the next. It and I are unpredictable.
In a moment when I think I am holding it together, I even return something to the mall. Then I see some earrings and buy four pairs from the same designer. (Of course, when reality set in later, I take two of them back.) As soon as I open the door to leave the mall, with no rhyme or reason, once again I am flooded with tears.
When I get home, I lay on the couch trying to get out of my own head. Then Jason calls and tells me, “Get dressed, we are going to my brother’s house for dinner.” I’ve met his brother twice, and that’s the last place I want to go.
I reply, “No, I’m not. I don’t want to go anywhere.”
“Yes, we are. Get dressed.”
“No. I’m not going. I’m not in the mood. I just want to lay here.”
He says, “Just be ready in an hour.”
When we hang up, I am stunned at his response. Did what I say not matter? Was he even listening? When I said I wasn’t going, I meant I AM NOT GOING! It’s not up for debate. Maybe he heard me and was trying to change my mood or my mind, but his approach was definitely lacking.
I know I have no intention of doing anything. The last thing I want to do is put a fake smile on my face and make up conversation that I don’t care about with people I don’t really know. I have no interest in doing that.
I’m still in the same position on the couch an hour later when he calls to say that he is still at his boss’s house. So we won’t go to his brother’s but will get something to eat when he is finished. I tell him I’m fine but that he should stop on his way back and eat. He agrees to do that, and we get off the phone.
A few minutes later, I realize I haven’t eaten almost all day. So I call him back and suggest we grab something to eat together. An hour later, at Chili’s, the conversation begins. I’m feeling down still trying to process everything that has happened in what seems like such a short period of time.
We discuss our issues with each other and what we need to do to work on them. After all, it’s only been a month since we started dating, so we really haven’t had the time to get to know each other as well as I would have liked. This is the guy I thought I was going to marry. When we first met, I thought he had “it all” (whatever that means). I thought he had everything what I was looking for in my future husband…ambition, sense of humor, wanted kids, wanted to take care of me, etc. Then reality struck and my perception changed the more time I spent with him.
Leaving Chili’s it seems like we are on the same page. We know what we each need to work on and what needs to happen for this relationship and situation to work. We are both willing to invest in it.
We are about two minutes away from my place, when he says, “All I want to do is crawl into bed, put my arms around you, hold you, and fall asleep. I don’t want to talk any more. I just want to lay with you. Can we do that?”
I become silent. I don’t respond. I don’t know what to say, so I say nothing. I shut down.
He sees this and my silence and replies, “Say something.”
I can’t manage to utter a single word. As we continue to drive, time stands still…as though I, the real Jessica Rector, am watching myself from outside the vehicle…like it is a movie.
Then he says, ”You are hurting my feelings.”
I am literally frozen, not able to move, speak, or even blink. I don’t know what to say. Yes, a part of me wants him to wrap his arms around me and tell me that everything is going to be all right. And a part of me, a big part of me, wants to be left alone…by myself…with my own thoughts. I don’t want to hurt his feelings, so I don’t say a thing. I remain mum…still zoned out like a zombie but my hearing intact. Little did I know that is hurting his feelings anyways.
I feel his anger build by my silence, but I just don’t know what to say. Keeping quiet to not hurt his feelings ends up hurting him. Saying how I feel that a part of me wants to be left alone and a part of me wants him there would hurt him. I didn’t realize that I wouldn’t be able to win either way.
The next thing I know, we arrive at my place. I still haven’t said a word, and I haven’t processed what happened in the time after my body and mind froze. I sit on the couch and watch him put his things, one by one outside to carry to his SUV. He gets all his stuff outside and is taking his last load to his car, when I meet him at there. With the driver’s door open and his back to his seat, I go to put my arms around him to hug him, and he pushes me away.
Then I put my hands on his waist, and he pulls away. I stand directly in front of him and say, “I’m sorry. I need time to process this. I need time to think about all of this. This is hard for me. It’s unexpected, and I just need time.”
He raises his voice and says, “This is a G** Damn blessing for you to even be able to have a kid at your age. You are so selfish. You should be thanking your stars it’s even possible. You’ve done it now. You’ve lost me for good.”
In utter dismay, I reply, “I’m sorry you feel that way.”
His only response is sliding into the driver’s seat and closing the door. I take a few steps and then pause to watch him drive away. Tears cover my face as I walk back inside.
Read "The Following Days" and find out what happens next to A Clueless Mom.