Page 74 of The Summer of ’98

“As if Mom would let him stay with us,” Amber mumbled. “I told her that we met a few months ago and kept in contact over the phone, which she was chill about. But you know Mom. There was no chance she’d let me have a boy sleeping in the house. I can’t wait for college.”

She had a point. Our mothers were almost on par with how rigid their rules were. Amber was so lucky, having an escape, college, freedom.

“I’ll need to call Momma from the hotel if that’s okay. Just to let her know that I’ll be out.”

“Yeah, of course,” Eric said as we climbed into a rental car. I took the backseat.

During the drive, I let the lovebirds converse and attempted not to sob over the fact that I missed Leroy so much. What was he doing right now? How is he? He was probably upset and confused about why he hadn’t heard from me since I left. Stress and panic rose at a rapid pace. Like it was going to simmer over, and I’d need to be physically sick.

Eric was staying in a small one-level motel. The single room was basic with a bed, chest of drawers, and a little kitchenette. Amber used the phone first to call her mom and let her know that she’d be out for the evening. She was given permission but had to return home for dinner first. Eric let her borrow the car and I phoned Momma while they stepped out to say goodbye.

I knew that she wouldn’t be home, so I left a message on the answering machine and told her that I was catching up with Amber at her house. It meant that I didn’t have to have an actual conversation with her. It meant that I didn’t have to hear the resentment in her voice when she spoke to me.

I was hanging up the phone when Eric ducked back inside with a genuine grin etched into his features. I knew that feeling well and I felt so happy for my best friend to know that she had a decent man. Especially considering they would be at the same college.

“She won’t be long,” he said as he strolled toward the kitchenette and retrieved a couple of glasses from the cabinet. When he pulled open the mini fridge, there was a selection of alcohol in miniature bottles. “Want one?”

“Oh, just a water will be fine, I suppose.”

He grabbed a bottle of vodka and let the fridge swing shut. He handed me the water and mixed his drink with some apple juice before switching on the radio, an all-too-familiar song was on. “Don’t Want to Miss a Thing.”

My chest tightened at the memory of Leroy singing this song to me in his kitchen just a couple of weeks ago. I could almost feel his hands on me again, hear his voice whispering beside me, smell his intoxicating cologne and natural musk.

“Hey, what’s wrong, honey?” Eric wrapped his arm around my shoulder and let me lean into his hold as I fell apart. I wanted to blame the hormones, but I knew that it was just me. “Is this about Leroy?”

I nodded, taking a deep breath and attempting to dry my cheeks.

“What’d he do? I’ll hit him if he’s acting up.”

I laughed. An ugly choked sob of a laugh. “No, he’s perfect. It’s me. I fucked everything up.”

“You just cursed. Must be bad.”

I nodded again as he rubbed my shoulder and let me lean on him. As much as I didn’t want to drag him into the middle of such a shit-show, I had the desperate urge to vent. So, I told Eric everything and cried while he comforted me through the erratic rambling.

“Please don’t say anything to Leroy,” I blubbered after I was done offloading. Eric pursed his lips like he didn’t want to agree to keeping such a secret from him. “Eric, please. Please don’t tell him.”

“I just don’t think giving up your baby for adoption without telling him is the right thing to do,” he gently said. “I would want to know. So would he. Plus, he’d support you if that’s what you need. I know him, and I know that he would do anything for you.”

“That’s why I want to keep him out of it. I don’t want him to jeopardize his future for me. Or feel burdened. Plus, my mom—”

“Yeah, that’s the other thing,” he cut me off and stood up. “You’re letting your mom decide something so major. It’s messed up, girl.”

I didn’t expect him to understand. Most teenagers didn’t give a shit what their parents thought. But that’s not how I was raised. I was raised to respect, be truthful, and do what I was told or face consequences. My momma had always known what was best for me and I wanted to believe that she still did. Even if it was tearing me apart.

“I know that I have things to figure out,” I said with a quiet voice. “Please just let me figure them out before you say anything to Leroy.”

He rested his hands on his hips and stood in front of me with a warring expression. He didn’t like it. But he eventually nodded in agreement and sat back down beside me. “Sure. This is your business. I won’t tell him.”

I exhaled a sigh of relief. “Thanks, Eric.”

Ellie

I spent the next couple of days hanging around with Eric and Amber. Mom was at work a lot, and when she was home, I avoided her so I wouldn’t have to talk about topics that I didn’t want to discuss. I knew that I couldn’t put it off forever. Soon I would need to see an OB-GYN and have health checkups and contact the adoption agency. Every time that thought surfaced, I squashed it before I ended up a nauseated wreck. It was procrastination at its finest but right now it felt like the only thing I had control over.

Eric and Amber were wonderful at pretending that I wasn’t pregnant. A week with the two of them was just what I needed. Fun, distraction, the chance to forget. We caught up with the rest of our friend group from high school. We spent time at the river. We saw movies at the theatre. It was a blessing. But it didn’t heal the hurt. It just set a nice little Band-aid on the open wound.

But Friday came around and Eric was leaving for Georgia, where he had family that he would be staying with for the rest of summer. Amber planned on joining him before college started, if she could manage to convince her mother to let her leave early. Apparently, her mom was just as smitten with Eric as Amber was, so I assumed it wouldn’t be hard. He was impossible not to love.

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