a million different things I could have done that day

Chapter 12

Carson

Mom hated waking people up. Yes, it's a pretty random thing to mention but I consider it an important fact about her, one that made her unique. She respected sleep. Maybe it was because she barely got any as a surgeon but she just hated waking people up. Ever since I was a child, alarm clocks were all I had. If we forgot to set them it was our fault, because Dad and I both knew she would never wake us up. I always thought it was strange. Only years later did I realize how kind it was of her to let a person spend a few more minutes in a fantasy world which wasn't as cruel as ours.

Krystelle

When they'd first started dating, Suzan had moved into Dad's crappy one-bedroom rather than the other way around. They were perfectly content there. A couple with no children didn't need much more than that. Dad's family being musicians and Suzan's teachers, it's not like they'd grown up with money flowing in or accustomed to my kind of luxuries.

I don't recall precisely when they'd decided to buy a proper house, perhaps a week or two after their engagement. Anyway, Suzan was the one who insisted getting married and coming back to that same old apartment would be too mediocre and unromantic.

They'd even asked for my opinion. I know it seems very immature of me to appreciate such a thing, but times like that; I couldn't help but notice the differences between Suzan and my own mother. My whole life I'd barely had a say in the clothes I wore, since one of my mom's friends was a designer and liked to pick out outfits for me, much less what house I lived in. During the custody battle when I was twelve, Dad didn't even ask that I live with him.

He  argued, "She's going to be a teenage girl soon. She needs a nice room and I nice house. My old apartment isn't a place she can proudly invite her friends to." I was with Mom after that of course.  I always knew Dad loved me. It was just one of those things that I found stable in life while Mom screamed and took me to the mall and bought me gifts just hours after. The thing about Dad was that he wanted me there and he was willing to sacrifice that just so I could have an ideal life. I can't help but love the man.

What Dad didn't know was that I loved that crappy old apartment more than anything. Every week, I'd look forward to our movie nights there. I loved that since Dad seldom left the music store, his fridge never contained any real food. Diet cokes, leftover slices of pizza and peanut butter. It was such a refreshing change to Lily's food. Lily was mom's gourmet chef. Yes, we really have one of those. Needless to say, sometimes simplicity is key.

Suzan wanted a house with three bedrooms: one for her and Dad, one for their future child, and another for me. Now that they'd finally gotten a proper house, there was no reason for me to stay with Mom all the freaking time.

Suzan spent the past month setting the new house up and, this Friday night, she finally invited me to come take a look. There had never been any formality with Suzan. It's not like I'd ever had to wear a dress and do my hair for her but this time, jeans seemed too mediocre. This time was special. This time, I'd get to see my new room for the first time, in a house we'd spent months decorating.

Exclusively for this day, I'd spent my whole week back from Paris preparing Dad and Suzan a house warming gift. Every day after school, I rushed home and worked on my piece. It was going to be great. No one appreciated my art more than Dad and Suzan. Being a teacher, she had learned to encourage and support. Sacrificing my week for them will always be worth it.

I showed up at around 7 PM dressed in a cute aquamarine blue sundress. The night did not go as well as it began.

It started with the usual, you know, all that futile talk about how school was going, how Paris was, whether or not Dad reached his goal of selling 50 records this week and other trivial things we could have done without. I guess watching my father and his new wife glancing at each other nervously every few seconds should have been the first clue.

"How would you like a little brother or sister?" Dad spurted out halfway through dinner. Suzan looked mortified.

"Umm...." I paused, moving my fork around my plate. How would I feel? It's been years since I've thought of those kinds of things. "I wouldn't mind one. Why do you ask?"

I know, I know, it's completely obvious why he'd asked, that's just what you're supposed to say before making assumptions.

Dad smiled awkwardly, "Suzan's pregnant."

"Are you guys sure? I mean, it's been less than a month since the wedding...." I trailed off. Oh, my god, it's Katia all over again. "Please tell me it isn't what I think it is. Please tell me you didn't get married because of this pregnancy. You guys know how those marriages end."

This comment made Suzan blush so strong, she looked like she'd chewed on a dozen Thai chilies. "I... we were planning on getting married eventually, but yes, this baby was the factor that set it off. Krystelle, don't get the wrong idea. Your Dad and I love each other very much. It's not like this baby was the reason; it was just the push we needed."

Ugh, this discussion is making me sick. Admit it, even after all those Biology and Health classes, you can't fully accept your parents sex life. It seems strange even though it's the most natural thing. Even stranger is that everything seems normal until it isn't you doing it. Every mistake is justified as long as it's you. How hypocritical.

I behaved like the good girl I knew was buried somewhere deep inside me. I smiled and congratulated them. I offered to help design the baby's room and prepare for his or her arrival. I did all that when really, in my heart, I didn't want this child to face the same divorce I had. I'm not saying that all pregnancy-marriages end in divorce, but it is a forced marriage. When things aren't done by choice, they have messy results.