Karen took a deep breath, her heart racing as she prepared to speak. "Mama," she said, her voice almost a whisper as she watched Mattie settle onto the couch next to the table.
"Hmmm?" Mattie replied, distracted, as she flipped through her purse, seemingly looking for something important.
"I-I'm pregnant," Karen finally managed to say, the words slipping out like a confession. She felt the weight of the truth hang in the air, almost suffocating.
Mattie paused, her fingers stilling. For a moment, the bus felt eerily quiet, the usual sounds of her sisters chatting faded into the background. Karen's heart pounded in her chest, her stomach churning with anxiety.
"What did you say?" Mattie asked, finally looking up, her expression unreadable.
Karen swallowed hard, feeling the tears prick at the corners of her eyes again. "I said I'm pregnant, Mama," she repeated, louder this time but still shaky. "I'm... I'm carrying Earl's child."
"Karen, you know how the church is-" Mattie had begun. But Denise, never one to hold back, had cut her off instantly. "Mom, that doesn't matter! Your 16-year-old daughter just told you she's pregnant, carrying her abuser's child, and the first thing you mention is the church?!" Denise's voice was sharp, laced with anger.
Karen had barely been able to look up from the table as she cried into her knees, feeling like her world was crumbling around her.
"Yes," Mattie had said, her voice calm, almost indifferent. "Because I've worked too hard for my place in the church, and I will not allow this to mess everything up."
Denise's eyes had widened in shock, disbelief painted across her face. "How can you think about the church at a time like this? Your daughter needs you now more than ever, and all you care about is what people will think?!" Her voice cracked with emotion as she stood up, pacing the narrow aisle of the tour bus.
Twinkie had sat silently at the edge of the table, shaking her head in disappointment. Karen knew Twinkie didn't always speak up, but the look on her face was enough to say what she was feeling: their mother's obsession with appearances had gone too far. The church had become a pedestal, and they were all suffering for it.
As Twinkie reached out and placed a hand on Karen's shoulder, Karen's sobs slowed slightly. Her sisters—they were all she had right now.
Karen lay curled up in her bunk, hugging her knees to her chest as she tried to block out the sounds of the bus rumbling down the road. She had always loved the open road - the long stretches of highway that felt like freedom - but now, every bump in the road felt like a reminder of the life growing inside her. A life she didn't ask for, didn't want, and was terrified of.
Just a few minutes ago, she had snapped at her mother - her mind still reeling from their earlier conversation.
"Really, Mama?" Karen had spat when Mattie handed her the prenatal vitamins, her voice bitter and cold.
She'd left the vitamins on the table like they were poison, retreating to her bunk where she could hide, where the tears could fall freely without anyone's judgment.
Outside, she could hear Denise pacing in the aisle, furious. Karen knew her sister was angry at Mattie - angry at the way she put the church, her reputation, and everything else above Karen's well-being. She knew Denise was always the one willing to stand up to their mother, the one who would raise hell if it meant protecting her younger sisters. But right now, even Denise's fiery spirit couldn't help Karen feel any less alone.
-
Karen's bunk felt like a cocoon, though not a comforting one. She lay there, her hands resting gently on her stomach. She wasn't showing much yet, but she could feel the baby. She had felt that little flutter earlier, but she had ignored it, trying to pretend it didn't exist.
How could she possibly care about this baby when it was a reminder of everything that was wrong? Earl. His abuse. Her mother's coldness. The weight of her situation felt too heavy to bear.
She heard the sound of footsteps approaching and then felt the bus sway slightly as someone sat at the edge of her bunk. She didn't even need to look up to know it was Denise.
"You good?" Denise's voice was softer now, her usual fire tempered by concern.
Karen wiped at her eyes quickly. "I'm fine," she muttered, though her voice cracked as she spoke.
Denise sighed, leaning back against the wall of the bus. "No, you're not. And that's okay. You don't have to pretend with me."
Karen turned her head, finally looking at her sister. Denise's expression was softer now, but there was still that anger beneath the surface - anger not at Karen, but for her.
"It's just..." Karen struggled to find the words. "I don't want this baby, Denise. I don't. Every time I think about it, it makes me sick. And Mama..." She trailed off, her throat tightening with emotion.
Denise leaned forward, her face darkening. "Mama's lost it. She's so worried about what the church will think, she's forgetting she's your mother first."
Karen nodded, biting her lip. "I thought she'd be there for me. You know? I didn't want this, but now that it's happening... I thought she'd care." Her voice broke, and she fought back another wave of tears.
Denise reached out, taking Karen's hand in hers. "We're here for you, Karen. Me, Twinkie, Jacky... We got you. I promise. Don't let Mama's bullshit mess with your head. You don't owe her or the church anything." Denise's grip tightened slightly. "This is your life. Whatever you decide, we're behind you."
Karen closed her eyes, taking a shaky breath. She didn't know what her decision would be. The thought of keeping the baby made her chest tighten in fear, but the thought of what her options were terrified her too.
"Thanks, Denise," Karen whispered. It wasn't much, but in that moment, knowing her sisters had her back was all she could cling to.
Outside, the bus kept rolling down the highway, taking them closer to their next tour stop. But inside, Karen's world felt like it was standing still, teetering on the edge of something too big to handle alone.
