Pregnant Without a Cause

Chapter Twelve, Episode 39

Callie was in the kitchen getting dinner ready when the phone rang. She didn't usually answer the home phone anymore. For something important they'd leave a message. But the caller screen said it was some adoption agency, and she wondered what in the Hull House an adoption agency was calling them for.

A lively voice gave her a name, which Callie immediately forgot. Then the woman said something that made her quiver. "Are you the sister?"

"The sister of who?" 

"Gerald?"

This was a true dilemma. Her fake adoption of Booms required a complete separation of school and home because Michelle still had to deal with doctors and so forth. Most of the time it was not too difficult, but it kept Callie on her toes. This seemed to be a person to whom she should not lie, but tell as little of the actual truth as possible.

"Who wants to know?" Callie pulled the eggplant dish out of the refrigerator. It was almost too heavy for one hand.

"I'm from the adoption agency. I'd like to speak to Michelle."

Callie set down the dish. Was her mom planning to give Booms up for adoption? Or had someone blown the whistle on them? Like Zam. Or Edouard. She needed to find out as much as she could. "My mom just called. She's going to be late."

"Oh, that's unfortunate." 

"Yes."

"Well, all right," said the voice. "I'll try again sometime. So how is everything with you guys?"

The overly friendly tone gave Callie an unpleasant needly feeling on her neck and back. "We are fine. But I don't think this is a good time for my mom to be adopting a child."

As Callie had hoped, the voice laughed at her childish bafflement. "Oh, dear, I would think not."

"My mom is a very good mom, and we're really doing well." Callie said it as sweetly as she could manage. She'd grown a little out of practice on the good-little-girl bit. "I take care of the baby a lot, even though I'm not experienced, of course. And my grandma is here almost every day. We are doin' well, I must say. I'm even taking a child development class at school. Sometimes my grandma brings him over when I'm there." 

"To the school?"

"Yeah, to play with the other babies." Callie wanted to explain that, in case this lady had been checking up on her. She could play it either way, depending on what the lady said next.

She said, "It's wonderful that they let you do that." 

That seemed pretty safe. "Yeah."

"Your mother's working a lot?"

"Oh, not really. It's spotty." Callie turned the oven dial to 350. "But when she needs to go, grandma's always there. So we're doing fine. Nothing for anybody to be concerned about."

"That's good to hear."

"How do you know my mom?"

"Since you're her daughter, I can tell you. She considered giving the baby up for adoption. I'm just trying to follow up. What would you think of that?"

"Oh, god no! That would be terrible for all of us. No, we are keeping this baby. It would be terrible if someone were to take him or something."

"Who would ever take him? Your father?"

Callie laughed. What was she saying? "No, that's silly. My father is not Boomer's father. He lives up in Showlow with his friend."

Static crackled in her ear, and the lady came back on. "Who did you say? Gomer? Are you talking about Gerald?"

The longer this conversation went on, the more suspicious it seemed. Despite what this lady said, was her mother actually considering giving up the baby for adoption? Callie had seen the fitful bouts of depression and worry, and Callie's foolish, so selfish fiasco of a baby shower had only made her mother's mood worse. Or was the father making a move—whoever he was?

"You call the baby Gomer?" the voice prompted.

Maybe if the name were hideous enough the lady would go away. "Yes, Gomer. Sometimes we call him Gomer."Callie had called him that twice now, so that qualified as sometimes.

"What does your mom's boyfriend think of that name?"

"She doesn't have a boyfriend." Every question could be a trap. Would it be better if Edouard were in the picture? Callie didn't see how. "There's a man she hangs around with, she works with on the TV show. He used to be her boyfriend last year."

"Last year?" said the voice. "Last winter? Are you speaking of, of..." 

"Edouard."

"Yes, exactly, Edouard. How does Edouard feel about your mother keeping the baby all to herself?"

Callie forced herself to laugh. "To tell you the truth, Edouard could care less. He doesn't like kids. He likes dogs." Perhaps she should push him further out of the picture. "In case you are wondering, Edouard is not Gerald's, or Gomer's father. There may be a lot of men who it could be, but it's definitely not Edouard."

The lady said goodbye. Too late, Callie realized her last sentence didn't come out the way she intended. Definitely not. It could be seen as an admission that her mother slept with gobs of men. That was not a horrible thing, just an untrue one. Bollocks!