The Moment Keeper Page 19

  Lexie bit her lip-glossed lower lip. “Calm down. We’ll figure this out. Let’s just take one step at a time. One time I didn’t get my period and it was just late. That’s probably what it is. You’re just late because you’re worrying so much about getting it. We’ll go to the drug store and buy a pregnancy test.”

  Olivia buries her head in her narrow hands. “There’s no way I can walk into a store and buy one of those things.”

  “I’ll buy it. You can even wait in the car if you want. I’ve bought one before — it’s no big deal.”

  “But I thought you were on the pill?”

  “I am, but one time…” Lexie pauses, as if she’s contemplating whether she wants to tell Olivia her story. “Just believe me when I say I used one before.”

  Olivia looks at Lexie, curious to know when but respecting her friend’s privacy enough not to ask.

  “Look, Mom and Dad said they’d be late,” Lexie says. “Something about a dinner party at one of Dad’s clients, so I think we have all night. We’ll go get the test and then come back here.”

  I remember the day I bought a home pregnancy test. My periods weren’t real regular and I wasn’t good about keeping track, but one day it occurred to me that I hadn’t gotten my period for a while.

  I was preparing a bath for Grandma and when I looked in the vanity below the sink in the bathroom to get some bubble bath, I noticed the box of tampons, which reminded me that I hadn’t used any in a while.

  And then I thought about how tired I had been and how queasy I felt, especially in the morning right after I woke up. I Googled pregnancy symptoms and saw that I had many of them, including tender breasts. That was when I went to a store on the other side of town so I wouldn’t run into anyone I knew. I did it in the bathroom, and, when I saw the plus sign pop up almost instantly, I cursed Bryan, who by this time had stopped calling or coming by.

  I couldn’t tell Grandma. I didn’t want to disappoint her or worry her. Besides, she was so sick. In fact, the day I bought the pregnancy test was the last day I gave her a bath. She just became too weak to walk to the tub and I wasn’t strong enough to carry her, so I gave her a sponge bath every night. I always powdered her to make sure she smelled good afterward.

  I did go to the clinic and saw someone there and got vitamins and tried to eat right. I wore baggy tops and jeans and people, especially Tracey Carmichael, whispered that I was getting fat. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do about the baby, so I just didn’t think about it. It was easier that way. I concentrated on taking care of Grandma, who grew weaker by the day.

  As the days came and went, I fell into a deep depression. Everyone I had ever loved had left me. Grandma insisted on talking about my future without her. She discussed her will and money and what kind of service she wanted and I couldn’t bear to listen.

  I juggled caring for her and going to school, although it seemed I spent more time at home than in school as Grandma got worse. I only needed two classes to graduate and my adviser helped me arrange to have them in the morning so I could take care of Grandma the rest of the day. I stopped working at the grocery store, too.

  I don’t know what I would have done if I wouldn’t have been able to drive. Thank God I got my license as soon as I could. I tried to make Grandma’s doctor appointments in the afternoon so I wouldn’t have to take off school any more than I already was. The pregnancy was just another thing on my growing list of stuff to worry about.

  Lexie stands outside the bathroom. “When you’re done, let me know.”

  “I can’t pee if you’re standing right there,” Olivia yells from the other side of the door.

  “OK. I’ll wait in my room. Just bring it in when you’re done.”

  Olivia turns on the faucet and goes to the bathroom. By the time she gets back to Lexie’s room, a plus sign is already emerging on the test. She hands it to Lexie without looking at it.

  Lexie chews her lower lip. “Let’s sit on the bed.”

  “It’s bad, isn’t it? I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant, aren’t I? One freakin’ time and I get pregnant. How many other girls do it tons of times and never get pregnant? Oh no. Not me. I do it one time. One time things get a little out of hand and what happens? I end up pregnant. Pregnant! My parents are so going to kill me. Cole’s going to hate me. How in the hell am I going to be a dancer when I’ll look like an elephant in a leotard? And move like one. Everyone will laugh at me. Make fun of me. My life is ruined. Ruined! Completely! I’d be better off dead. Save my parents the embarrassment.”

  “Calm down,” Lexie says, wrapping her arms around Olivia. “We’ll figure things out.”

  “Figure things out?” Olivia says. “There’s nothing to figure out. My life is over.”

  I’m overwhelmed by Olivia’s feelings – her desperation, anxiety, uncertainty, fear and piercing sadness. I know what she feels, and not just because I can feel what she feels because I’m her moment keeper, but because I experienced what she’s experiencing when I was alive. Only it wasn’t my first time with Bryan. For me, things got out of control too fast and Bryan and I didn’t stop to do what we should have. Still, I was pregnant and didn’t want to be.

  I watch as Lexie keeps her arm around a sobbing Olivia, rocking gently side to side, trying to soothe her.

  Olivia sniffs. “What do I tell Cole?’

  “The truth,” Lexie says.

  “But what if he hates me?”

  “He’s not going to hate you.”

  “My parents will hate me.”

  “They’re not going to hate you either. Cole loves you; they love you.”

  “Maybe I don’t have to tell them. I can keep it a secret.”

  Lexie stops rocking and pulls her arm from around Olivia, using both hands to turn Olivia so Olivia is facing her. “You do have options.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like you don’t have to have the baby. A girl in my old school left on a Friday pregnant and when she returned Monday she wasn’t anymore.”

  “I could never do that.”

  “OK. You could have the baby and put it up for adoption. You were adopted. So was I, and look at the great families we ended up with.”

  “True. But I could never give up my baby. What kind of mother could do such a thing?”

  “My mother did. Yours, too.”

  Olivia starts crying harder.

  “I didn’t mean that like it sounded. What I meant is that there are lots of teens who get pregnant and give their babies away because they’re not ready to be a parent. The adopting family gets the baby they’ve always wanted and the pregnancy doesn’t stop the teen from going to college or…”

  “Be a dancer,” Olivia says.

  “Or that. I’m not saying that’s what you should do. All I’m saying is that you do have options.”

  Unlike Olivia, I had no one to confide in when I realized I was pregnant. On top of it, I had to take care of Grandma, who I was bathing and spoon-feeding in an attempt to get her to eat. I struggled in school, and I struggled at home. Nothing in my life was easy or happy. And, well, after Grandma died, I didn’t see any reason to live. And yet, I had hoped to save my baby.

  I could have waited until after it was born. I thought about it. A lot. But then one night after Grandma died and I hadn’t left the house in a week, most of which I spent in bed sleeping, I just did it. Researched it. Planned it. And prayed. I don’t know if my baby survived. I hope he did. I say “he” because I always imagined it was a boy. I pictured a little Bryan, with red hair and a dimple in his chin.

  Olivia calls Cole. “Can we talk?”

  “Sure. What’s up?”

  “Can you come over?”

  “I thought you were spending the night with Lexie.”

  “Change of plans,” Olivia says.

  “I’ll be right there.”

  “Can you pick me up at Lexie’s?”

  “Uh, sure. Now?”

  “Yeah.”

  Olivia pushes the o
ff button on the phone. “He’s coming over.”

  “Good, now remember what we talked about,” Lexie says.

  Olivia nods her head, and the tears begin again.

  Lexie slips her arm around Olivia.

  “It’s just that, we talked about it afterward,” Olivia says. “You know, after we did it. And we both said it wouldn’t happen again until we got some protection. And I was planning to. I even made an appointment at the clinic downtown you told me about. You know how they say you can do it one time and get pregnant? I never believed that. Did you?”

  Lexie nods. “I’m going to tell you something that you’ve got to swear you won’t tell a single soul. Pinkie promise. Never ever. I’ve never told anyone this. And my parents would kill me if they ever found out. There was this one photographer and…”

  Olivia blows her nose into a tissue.

  Lexie starts anew. “That girl I was talking about at my old school? The one who left on a Friday pregnant and returned on a Monday not pregnant?”

  Olivia nods.

  “That was me.”

  Lexie’s eyes turn glassy and watery. “And not a day goes by that I don’t think about what might have been.”

  “You’re what?” Cole shifts in the torn car seat, bumping the bush of keys dangling from his steering wheel.

  Olivia wanted to talk to Cole some place secluded so they ended up in the overflow parking lot at the mall that is only ever needed at Christmas.

  Olivia swallows hard, trying to muster the courage to say it again. Her left eye and thumb twitch. “I’m pregnant.”

  Cole slams the steering wheel with the palm of his hand. “Shit! Are you sure?”

  Olivia shakes she’s crying so hard. “I did a pregnancy test.”

  “At Lexie’s?”

  “Yeah. She helped me. What are we going to do?”

  “Look, Lib. I’m sorry. You know that I love you. But God…”

  Cole slams the steering wheel again. “We’ll get married. I’ll get a job. We’ll figure something out. Damn.”

  “Can you just hold me?” Olivia asks. “Just hold me.”

  Cole looks at the console separating them and nods toward the back seat. They crawl in the back and Olivia slides next to Cole as he wraps his arms around her and she rests her head on his shoulder.

  Cole kisses the top of her head. “We’ll figure this out. Promise.”

  Chapter 35

  Olivia opens the back door and Daisy is there waiting, her tail wagging as fast as Mrs. Tilley’s finger when she’s mad at her English class.

  Olivia bends down and scoops up Daisy and kisses her black nose. “I love you, too, Daisy girl.”

  “Is that you, Lib?” her mom calls from upstairs.

  “Yeah.”

  Olivia carries Daisy up to her room, stopping at her parents’ bedroom.

  “We just had her out so she’s good for the night,” her dad says.

  “Thanks, Dad. Night.”

  “Isn’t it kind of early for you to be going to bed? Everything all right, Lib?” Elizabeth asks.

  “It’s ten and I’m just tired. Everything’s fine. See you in the morning.”

  Olivia pulls her hair back in a ponytail and showers. She dries off and stands naked in front of her mirror rubbing her hand up and down over her belly button. Then she turns sideways and looks at her flat-as-a-board stomach, wondering what it will look like in nine months.

  She slips on the T-shirt Cole gave her, the one he wore the first night they met, and crawls into bed. She always feels closer to him when she wears his shirt. Daisy jumps up beside her and turns around and around before settling next to Olivia, her head on Olivia’s stomach. Olivia wonders if Daisy will be jealous of the baby. Then her mind goes on overdrive and she can’t stop thinking about dance, the only thing she’s ever wanted to do, the one thing she always wanted to be. And the thought of losing it all is too much. Her dreams have been crushed, her life changed forever and the only thing she can do is bury her head into her satin pillow to muffle her thunderous sobs.

  Sleep comes eventually, but it doesn’t offer much rest. As Olivia’s moment keeper, I see her dreams as she’s having them. I record those, too.

  Olivia’s on stage. The spotlight bathes her in a soft white glow. Her back faces the audience. Then she turns around, her graceful arms overhead, and just when she’s completely facing the audience she morphs into a giant elephant in a pink tutu. The audience laughs.

  Olivia shakes and opens her eyes. She sits up and leans over to check the clock on her nightstand. It’s two a.m.

  Daisy jumps onto the floor and crawls under the bed to sleep. Olivia goes to the bathroom then crawls back under the satin sheet. She stumbles toward sleep again.

  The night continues with one dream after another. The first dream of the night is always the shortest; they get longer and closer together as the night rolls on. It’s obvious what’s on Olivia’s mind.

  I never knew until I was a moment keeper how much people dream. We all dream every night. Probably about one dream every ninety minutes. I used to think I didn’t dream at all. Now I know I just didn’t remember them. Olivia woke directly from the elephant dream, so I’m guessing she’ll remember it. When she wakes from a dream, she usually remembers it.

  The alarm goes off and Olivia slaps the sleep button. About a half-hour later, her mom walks in. “Getting up for church?”

  Olivia moans. “I hardly slept last night. I’m not going.”

  “Remember that Dad and I are having lunch with the Groves afterward at the club.”

  “OK. If I’m not here when you get home, I’ll probably be at Lexie’s.”

  When I was pregnant, I had this recurring nightmare. I was asleep in my room and I’d hear a baby crying. I’d go to my dresser where a drawer was pulled out as far as it would go without coming off. A baby nestled in blankets was inside the drawer, which had been made into a bassinet. The baby wanted me to pick him up but I couldn’t. Something wouldn’t let me. His cries got louder and louder and the only thing I could do was to shut the drawer so I couldn’t hear him anymore. So that was what I did. But just as I shut the drawer, a baby hand poked through the thin crack and grabbed my hand and I woke up.

  I had that dream a lot. Not sure what it meant, but I bet there’s some meaning to it. Maybe it was my unconscious trying to tell me something, but I never figured out what.

  “And just when I turned around and faced the audience I morphed into a huge elephant in a pink tutu,” Olivia tells Lexie.

  Lexie mashes her lips together. She’s trying hard not to laugh, but she loses it. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to laugh. But you turning into an elephant with a pink tutu is over the top.”

  “Tell me about it. I barely slept last night. If I keep dreaming like this, I won’t be able to function.”

  “It’s probably your unconscious playing out your fears. You’re obviously upset about how being pregnant will affect dancing.”

  Olivia nods.

  “It’ll all work out,” Lexie says. “Cole promised he’d stand by you, right?”

  Olivia nods.

  “And being pregnant doesn’t mean you won’t be able to dance ever again.”

  “But it changes everything,” Olivia says. “I had so many plans and now I’ve ruined them all.”

  I remember Grandma saying something similar to me, as if it were her fault she got sick.

  “Sarah,” Grandma said. “Come sit with me for a while.”

  I moved the red, green, yellow and white webbed lawn chair next to her recliner. I kept the chair in the living room for just this purpose – so I could sit as close to Grandma as possible. I could have carried one of the kitchen chairs into the living room, but this worked just fine.

  Grandma’s wrinkled hand reached for mine, her hand bones bulging through sun-spotted skin. “I’m sorry I ruined everything.”

  “Gram, you didn’t ruin anything. You can’t help you got sick.”

  Gran
dma patted my hands. “But maybe if I’d be a better person this…”

  I cut her off. I wasn’t about to listen to her talk dumb. Sometimes, she’d get into these moods where she said things she knew weren’t true. I’m not sure why. Maybe she just needed an excuse.

  “Getting cancer wasn’t God’s way of punishing you for some wrong you might have done,” I said. “Besides, you’re the kindest, most gentle person I know.”

  “Did I tell you I want the organist to play ‘What a Friend We Have in Jesus’?” she asked.

  I nodded. “Yes, that and ‘Amazing Grace’.”

  She squeezes my hand. “Good.”

  “Do we have to talk about your funeral? Can’t we talk about something happy?”

  Grandma nods and closes her saggy eyelids, as if she’s trying to remember something and picture it in her mind. “Remember that time we went to that Disney ice-skating show?”

  “I remember, Gram.”

  “Saved money in that old coffee can for a year so we could go to that show. Sorry I couldn’t afford to take you to Disney World.”

  “That’s OK, Gram. I loved the ice show. I still have the magic souvenir wand you bought me at the show. And the pixie dust you made.”

  Grandma smiled. “You loved that wand. Always winging it around casting magic spells.”

  I had forgotten all about that wand and how I pretended to make everyone’s dreams come true.