Pregnant Without a Cause

Chapter Six, Episode 17

Okay, Christmas break is over! In case you lost track, here's a quick recap of where we are:

Quick Recap of Where We Are: Teenage Callie has "adopted" her mother Michelle's newborn baby, Boomer. At least that's what she's telling her high school classmates. On the Fat Chance reality television show where Michelle is a contestant, along with her ex-boyfriend, it's a different story, at least for now. 

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As soon as Zam touched her arm, Callie came to. She knew she had fainted, she remembered it happening, but how long had it lasted? A quick scan of the room told her no one had noticed. She looked at Zam. "I'm okay."

As casually as she could, she laid her arm on the desk and her head on the arm. The bare arm felt cool and clammy against her cheek, which was hot and swimmy. But for a moment she felt safe— felt as if the incident had passed and she would be all right.

Zam was perfect. He moved to the desk in front of hers, sort of blocking her from the room.

"How you doin?" he leaned down and whispered to her. 

"Okay. Thanks."

The teacher came into the room, and more students filed in.

Zam pulled a bottle of Powerade out of his backpack and held it in front of her. In the cool glow of the fluorescent light it appeared blood red. "Are you sure you're doin' the right thing? This whole thing, it might be too much for you."

She raised her head and drank a couple of sips of the sweet, salty juice. "I didn't really..." then she just mouthed, have a fuh-in' baby. 

Zam looked hurt that she would even mention such an obvious thing. "But you're on a crash diet."

"Exactly. So I crashed. It's no big deal. It's going to take a few weeks for my blood sugar dealie to adjust."

He leaned even closer, and spoke in a vehement hiss. "That's just stupid talkin.' You coulda smashed your melon like a . . . cantaloupe."

Callie closed her eyes and blew a low slow shush between her teeth. The gruff male voice of the teacher rose out of a small hubbub at the front of the class and she opened her eyes again. She propped her head up on her hand, and gave Zam the drinky-drinky motion. He handed her the Powerade and she took a strong swallow.

"Zam..." she leaned toward him, her voice lowering with every syllable. "I'm... happy."

He gave her his saddest hound dog expression. "I would have completed that sentence, in the middle of the biggest crisis of my life."

"No." She squeezed his arm. "Happy!"

***

The secretary who became Craig's girlfriend and broke up his marriage was still his secretary during the day, and his girlfriend after work. Since it was almost dinnertime when Michelle called, the secretary was off duty, and the girlfriend didn't bother to hide her suspicion and annoyance Michelle had called her ex-hub to get something straight.

"Is this Michelle?"

Michelle had a very definite picture of her—small and outgoing, with a tattoo that just peeked out from under a short sleeve, and pixie-short hair, platinum blonde on top and dark underneath, as if it had been spray-painted. Michelle had seen her exactly once.

"Yes, is Craig there?" 

"Yeah, I'll get him."

"Hello!" he said when he came on. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Michelle knew from Callie that they lived in a two story log home in Show Low—or rather, in it's slightly tonier suburb, Pinetop—and that the place was neither a cabin nor a showplace. The divorce and move of his practice to a resort and retirement town hadn't done Craig's finances any favors. Still, she pictured him in a big sweater and furry slippers.

"I have to tell you something, not because I have to tell you, but because I asked Callie not to tell you, and I don't want any secrets to get in the way of her relationship with you."

"O-kayyy." He was doing that annoying do-you-believe-this face to his girlfriend, Michelle could just tell.

"I had a baby."

"Excuse me? You had a baby? She had a baby." Pixie Cut must be standing right there. "How did that happen? Or should I say when?"

"He was born August 27."

"This is the first I've heard. Did you get married?"

"No. I'm raising him on my own. I had asked Callie not to tell you."

"You asked Callie not to tell me?" Pixie's voice could be heard in the background. "Why not?"

Michelle almost told him not to relay everything she said to his her. But better just to get this over with. He had already chosen her over Michelle. "Because you have no need to know. Besides, I don't think you've talked to Callie all summer."

"That's not true. I have talked to her." There was more mumbling in the background. 

"You know." Michelle had to say it. "On the phone, I can't see her mouth move, but I can hear her." 

"Who?"

"Your friend. What's her name." 

"Leave her out of it."

"My point exactly."

"So you're not married. An unwed mother." Michelle could almost see the hardness in his eyes. "What kind of example is that for Callie?"

"Not a good one."

"Are you living with someone?" 

"Nope. Nobody."

"Is he at least supporting you?"

"No, don't worry. I didn't call to talk about money."

"I don't know why you would. What you do, and the choices you make, are not my concern, financially. I sure as hell hope Callie doesn't get the idea that having sex and babies is okay when you're not married, and not prepared."

"I'm sure she won't"

"I'm not so sure. I suppose it's too much to expect you to express any kind of remorse, or responsibility."

"You're right about that."

"Good old in-your-face Michelle. Always right, no matter how wrong."

"You had an affair and dared me to divorce you."

"I dared you? You had already left that marriage. In the name of your own truth, no matter how screwed up. I can see things haven't changed much."

"No they haven't. So tell Miss Frosty that I'm hanging up, and you all have a nice evening."

Spiteful divorced couples going at each other are painful in real life, but kind of fun in a story—would you agree?