The Tales of a Future Hockey Wife

Chapter 52: The Truth

~Eleanor~

I told Ben I was going shopping with my father. When he asked me where I was going, I told him I was going last-minute Christmas shopping with my father. I just couldn't be honest with him. I try to put up this front when we are together where everything is fine, and I am not worrying or stressed out about anything. But I am. I am more stressed out than I ever was every minute of every day. And I know he is too, but someone has to pretend to be strong to allow the other to feel how he really feels. Too often, that role falls onto the woman, especially when it comes to children. So, I lied. I lied, so that Karel could tell me the truth. It's weird how life works sometimes. Lying to get the truth. That sentence makes me laugh all by myself as I sit down at a table by the window to watch the small snowflakes that are falling from the sky since this morning. I am supposed to meet Karel in just a few minutes, but since I got here early, I already ordered a latté. I know I shouldn't drink more than one coffee per day, but I just didn't imagine myself drinking a green smoothie while talking about our problems. I raise my hand in the air when I spot Karel stepping in. A few snowflakes blown by the cold December wind enter the coffeeshop at the same time as her and end their course on the already white rug at her feet.

"Hey," she says as walks towards me, "Am I late?" She looks at her watch.

I shake my head. "No, I was just early. I was afraid I wouldn't find any parking spots, but I was wrong." For how long will we talk about the weather? I simply don't know how we are supposed to engage in such a conversation. I cannot see myself just asking her if she regrets her decision or not. She excuses herself to go get something to drink, and comes back about five minutes later, a cup similar to mine in her hands.

"How's Noah? He's what, four now?" She shakes her head. His birthday is in March so he's still just three. I figured asking about her son was a good way to get into the subject without sounding too harsh.

"What about you? How far along are you?" Her voice sounds genuine. We somehow fell directly into the subject, and no one got hurt during the fall. It feels like an accomplishment. 

"Sixteen weeks on Friday." 

"So, you're due, what, end of June start of July?" I nod. "Summer babies are nice. Plus, you won't have to go through the heat-waves while pregnant. Be thankful for that," she adds whit a laugh at the end. I try to laugh too, but the sounds get caught up in my throat making it sound more like a cough.

"What did you want to ask me, Eleanor?" Her question makes me feel as if my head had just hit the ground. We were falling softly, floating in the air of small talk until her question made the ground seem too close for me to prepare my landing.

"I want to know how it went for you. Your story, basically," I answer after taking a minute to gather my thoughts. I went through this conversation in my head a thousand times last night when I couldn't sleep. I made up sentences in my head and rehearsed them until I knew them by heart. Now, I can't seem to remember a single one.

"I got pregnant, had a baby, and now I am doing my best to give him the life that he deserves. That's not what you want to know, Eleanor. You want me to comfort you in your decision to keep it. You want me to tell you that Benjamin will be a great dad," she pauses to smile at me. "But I can't tell you that. I can't tell you that because Samuel left. He bailed on us. So, if you were looking for a wonderful story with the most amazing happy-end than you asked the wrong teen mom. I'm sorry, I am." I am struck by her revelation. But, still, I want to know more.

"What happened?" She leans forward on the table to get closer to me. She eyes me for a while, before sitting back against the backrest of her chair.

"When I told him, he was really mad at first, but then he came back telling me he was all in. We had agreed that I would drop out of school to take care of the baby until he finished high school and then, we would switch. We were living in my parents' basement. It was fine until he told me that he couldn't do it anymore. It was too much for him. The responsibilities, the lack of freedom, the financial stretch it put on us. Noah was four months old when Sam left, and he never came back. I had to get a job to pay for everything a baby needs. On Noah's first birthday, my parents asked me when I was planning to go back to school. I told them I couldn't go back, I had to work. That didn't respect the contract we had, so they threw me out. I had to work even more, that's when I started working at the restaurant. I got an apartment, and that was it. It became my life." I try to regulate my heavy breathing as I listen to her story. The resemblance with mine is obvious, starting with him telling her he was all in.