I waved good night to my supervisor and walked out of Walmart, clutching the medication to my chest. My face fell as soon as I walked through the sliding doors and located my car—not the brand-new Chevy Lucas had bought for me but a second-hand, earlier, and cheaper model. I’d sold the car and pocketed most of the money to buy the items I’d need for the baby but bought a cheaper car so I could still get around. Slowly, I was getting things done. At least I was before this.

As I entered the car, I placed the paper bag with the prescription I had filled before the pharmacy closed on the passenger seat. I was exhausted from working a twelve-hour shift today, and my legs hurt and were more swollen than when I left home this morning. I probably should quit this job, but I’d counted it a blessing I’d gotten a summer job as soon as I returned to Pagosa Springs. The money I got for the car wouldn’t last forever and getting the baby items were expensive. My father had offered me money to help before I sold the car but I’d turned him down. This wasn’t his problem. He’d insisted on making the baby furniture, though, which I’d consented to.

I rested my head forward onto the steering wheel and the tears leaked from my closed eyes as sobs racked my body. I had never felt so alone in all my life, and I was scared. I’d not given much thought to raising this baby on my own. I would do it, though. Any hope of reconciliation between Lucas and me were dashed since I hadn’t heard from him for two weeks. I suspected he’d discovered I had tricked him into believing I was still on campus when I’d been in Pagosa Springs.

At first, I’d hoped that he would come after me. One last act to show me the extent to which he loved me and I would have told him this time. But he hadn’t shown, hadn’t texted me, and that was that.

I had a difficult time accepting we were finished, although it was my fault. I should have told him about the baby. Now, I had to face every worry of this pregnancy on my own. I didn’t want to share my fears with my father and get him worried and upset, but I was terrified at what I’d discovered at my last prenatal check-up. The doctor’s words haunted me.

“Miss Hoskins, we’ve a little hiccup with your pregnancy and need to proceed with much caution,” Dr. Howard had said gently. “We’ve diagnosed you with preeclampsia and right now, it’s threatening to be severe. We have to monitor you closely to ensure it doesn’t develop into eclampsia which can be life threatening.”

I was just having a baby, I’d thought. Women had babies every single day. Why was I told having this baby might be life threatening?

“The symptoms you told me about are related to severe preeclampsia,” Dr. Howard had continued, sensing my unasked questions. “The headaches, blurred vision, fatigue, and you also complained you were experiencing abdominal pains the last few days. We will continue your blood pressure medication and we need to assess your diet to include more protein. I would like to see you back in the next two weeks to assess your blood pressure.”

And even though they were scary, I was able to live with the increased visits, the change in the diet, and the pills I had to pop in my mouth every day. Until he’d made his last statement.

“If you have swelling in your face, your hands, difficulty urinating, or upper abdominal pain, call me immediately. While I don’t want to overly alarm you, eclampsia—which we are trying to prevent in this case—is a serious condition. If-if it reaches that state, you may want to consider your option of an early delivery. But taking the baby at this time, which is ultimately up to you, might result in the baby not surviving. Nothing cures eclampsia except for the delivery of a baby.”

My sobs grew louder, wracking my entire body until I was too exhausted to cry anymore. I leaned heavily against the steering wheel. My life or my baby’s. How could I choose? This baby had changed my body and my life, and I loved him so much already. I was too attached to not give him the time he needed to survive. But the threat of being in a coma from continuing a pregnancy with eclampsia scared me.

I gasped at a flutter in my tummy. Whoa—was that what I thought it was? Oh, my God. My tears gave way to a laugh of surprise. My baby was moving. I had never felt the movements before and the doctor had told me it was normal for a first-time mother to not feel movements until later in the pregnancy.

I placed my hand over the section of my tummy where I felt the ripple, amazed at the life growing inside me. I needed nothing else to reassure me. Despite the threat of a hard pregnancy, I would do what the doctor said. I would eat right and take those pills. I’d ensure I drank the recommended eight glasses a day. Anything to have this baby. This baby was the last piece of the love I’d shared with Lucas, and I’d cling to it until the end.

Feeling strengthened, I wiped my face and blew my nose with the napkins I stored in the glove compartment of the car and drove home. My dad was still up, watching wrestling in the living room. I knew he was waiting for me to get home which made me smile.

“Hi, Dad,” I called to him.

“Good, you’re home. How are you feeling?” he asked on a frown. “You look a little pale, Debra.”

“I’m fine. Just starving.”

“Spaghetti and meatballs are in the oven.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

I’d been craving pasta sauce and found myself eating it on everything. I appreciated he’d taken the time out to cook something he knew I’d want.

I was digging into the meal and a bottle of water when Dad walked into the kitchen, retrieving a beer from the fridge. When he stood there, drinking from the bottle and observing me, I knew what he wanted to say.

“Please, Dad, don’t start again,” I begged him. Almost every day, he tried to persuade me to tell Lucas about the baby and every day, I gave him the response that I couldn’t.

“That boy deserves to know he’s going to be a father,” he said anyway. “This is a tough business, Debra, trying to raise a baby on your own. If you didn’t have that car to sell, what would you have done? Have you thought about finishing your degree? How will you do that and take care of a baby?”

“Seriously, Dad, I can’t think about that right now.”

“Then when are you going to think about it?” he demanded. “I’m not sure if it’s sinking in, the enormity of this task, raising a baby as a single parent. That’s a choice you don’t have to make. Lucas can afford to take care of this baby. At least let him support you financially.”

“I can’t do that!”

“Why not?”

“Because he shouldn’t have to pay child support for my mistake! I was the one who messed up with the pills, not him.”

“Debra…”

“No, Dad, please. All I’m concerned about right now is having the least amount of stress and that this pregnancy doesn’t get more complicated than it already is.”

“What do you mean, complicated?” he asked in concern. “Is something wrong?”

I got up from the table and went over to the sink to wash up my plate. My feet ached and I wanted nothing more than to go to bed, but I had to take a shower first.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” I responded.

He started angrily out of the kitchen and turned to regard me. “I don’t like this, Debra. I don’t like it at all. You have people who care about you and you push them away. I know it’s also my fault, for making you guard yourself against people because I did it after your mom left, but it’s not healthy. You don’t want to end up like me—old, cranky and alone.”

* * *

“Mom, what are you doing here?”

I had closed off the cashier’s desk and taken up my bag when the figure almost startled me. She was the last person I expected to see back here in Pagosa Springs. And how did she pick me out in this crowd, anyway? We’d kept in touch though I spoke to her only when dad wasn’t around.

“Oh, my God.” She stared at my protruding belly. “You’re pregnant? Debra? Why didn’t you say anything?”

I flushed. “Because I didn’t think it was any of your business.”

Hurt reflected in her eyes at my harsh words. “I’m sorry,” I apologized. “I didn’t mean to say that but I’m a little cranky. I’m not feeling very good. How did you even find me?”

“I asked at the customer service desk where I could find you,” she explained, still staring at my belly in disbelief. “I got in a little earlier but I remembered from our talks that you get out at five today, so I decided to surprise you and take you out for dinner.”

“I am hungry,” I admitted. “As you can see, I’m eating for two now, and hunger seems to be a perpetual state.”

The way she gawked at me, one would have thought I was a cast member of My 600lb life. I had gained a lot of weight during this second trimester, making up for what I’d lost during the first and then some. My belly could no longer be disguised, either. Almost six months pregnant, I felt a little like a whale but I made the best of it.

“Is it-is it Lucas’ baby?” she asked. “I don’t even know why I asked. I’m sure it is. Where is he? How far along are you? Why are you working here when he can take care of you and this baby?”

“Mom, that’s too many questions,” I groaned at her. “Please can we get something to eat first? I’ve a craving for Italian. Let’s go to Marconi’s.”

Her eyes were full of questions but she nodded and we walked out together. We took our separate cars and drove the short distance to the Italian restaurant. We occupied a two-seater table and placed our orders.

“What are you doing here in Pagosa Springs?” I asked her before she could begin her long line of questions. “Aren’t you worried about running into Dad?”

“The thought was scary at first but I decided it was time,” she responded though her smile wobbled. “How far along are you?”

“Twenty-four weeks,” I replied with a grimace. “I still have sixteen more weeks to go.”

“And Lucas? Why is he allowing you to work at Walmart when you don’t have to?”

“He doesn’t know I’m pregnant, Mom, and that’s the way I’d like it to remain.”

“Are you crazy?”

My response was delayed by the waiter bringing our meal and my stomach growled. I smeared the pasta sauce and the extra I’d ordered over the chicken marsala and dug in. Only after forking a few mouthfuls did I address her question.

“The first time Lucas and I met, he accused me of being a gold digger,” I told her. “Unfortunately, he heard Dad saying it about you and got it in his head that I was the same.”

Her face turned a bright red and she stared down at her plate of salad.

“You’re nothing like me, Debra. You’re smarter and with a whole lot of heart, but that excuse you’ve come up with is no excuse at all. Lucas needs to know.”

I shook my head. “It’s my decision. We’re no longer together. He doesn’t need to know about an unplanned pregnancy.”

“But you love him.”

“I do, and that’s why I am doing this. He once mentioned ruining our lives if I ended up pregnant. I am not trying to ruin his life.”

“Debra that—”

“Between you and Dad, I can’t decide who is worse!” I grumbled. “He’s been nagging me about telling Lucas too, and I’ll give you the same response I gave to him. I am not going to hit Lucas up for child support simply because he’s wealthy.”

“You’re stubborn, just like your dad!” she stated.

“Debra.”

At my father’s voice I glanced up, surprised to see him at the restaurant. He had takeout in his hands and stared not at me but at my mother.

“Dad.” I was at a loss as to what to say to him. I felt like I had betrayed him. The look on his face was one of hurt and disappointment.

“Michael, how are you?” my mother asked.

He tore his eyes away from her and walked over to the table, plunking down the takeout on the table. “I came here to get you this because I know you’ve been craving Italian, but obviously, you don’t need it.”

“Dad, I didn’t know she was coming,” I tried to explain but he shook his head at me and walked out. When I looked back at my mom, her eyes were bright with tears.

“I guess seventeen years is still not enough time,” she said sadly. “He will never forgive me for walking out on him.”

“What do you expect?” I asked her candidly. “So far, you’ve not exactly asked his forgiveness.”

Hearing my own words, I considered my own hypocrisy. Wasn’t that what I needed to do as well? Confront Lucas with the truth and ask his forgiveness. I was my mother’s daughter after all, too coward to face a problem and go after what I wanted.

And I wanted Lucas.