Page 62 of Deserter

Celia: 1989

Iran my hand over the paisley wallpaper. “It’s perfect.”

Jamie’s eyes briefly flickered over the kitchen before landing back on me. “It’s a fuckin’ dump, Celia. I can talk to a realtor and get something a little newer—”

“No. It has so much character. And these cabinets are still in really good shape. Don’t you want to see the other rooms?”

“Seen them, princess. I grew up in this house.” His face gave nothing away, but there was something in his tone that made me think he didn’t have many happy memories of this place.

He’d been quiet since we left my parent’s house and I wondered if it was due to my premature declaration of love. I hadn’t meant to announce it in front of everyone, but it wasn’t as if I could take it back now. The words had just fallen out.

My head and heart had been battling each other since the afternoon I found out that I was pregnant, and this morning had been no different.

I knew that Betsy was right and that the most rational thing to do would be to end my pregnancy. There was a small part of me though that hoped for some last-minute intervention.

I hadn’t been able to admit my sins in confession, but I had been kneeling beside my bed every evening to pray the rosary. When the heaviness in my chest didn’t let up, I added the Holy Spirit, the angels, and all the saints. I thought that if I left it up to a higher power, the decision would be made for me.

It soon became apparent that with the events unfolding in Berlin and Tiananmen Square in Beijing, no one upstairs had time for a knocked-up seventeen-year-old. My problems were nothing compared to the rest of the world’s.

On top of that, my feelings for Jamie had only intensified since discovering I was carrying his child. I wanted to believe that he felt something, despite his proclamations that we were nothing.

Maybe I would’ve been willing to put my selfish desires aside had I not seen the fetal development chart on the back of the exam room door. I knew then that I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I went through with it.

So, maybe he hadn’t burst into the room and swept me off my feet. He wanted me—even when he thought the baby was gone, he’d asked me to be his.

Up until now, Jamie had been seemingly lost in thought, staring at a spot on the hardwood floor. “This used to be carpet.”

I ran my toe along a seam in the wood. “Yiayia had carpet in her kitchen and bathroom. It was thin, like the felt boards we used in Sunday school and there was always this one area, by the stove, that was stained.”

He looked up at me with a slow smile. “Yeah, my ma had several spots like that, although she swore they were from me tracking in mud on my shoes. I told her it was—” His eyes dropped back down to the floor and his face seemed to lose its color.

“Jamie?” I touched his arm and he shook his head as if in a daze.

“Lost my train of thought. So, the guys are stopping by with some furniture. We’ll get dishes, a car, and the rest of your clothes tomorrow.” His eyes shuttered and I braced myself against the small peninsula when he stormed out.

Fatigue colored every facet of my world and Jamie’s sudden changes in mood only added to the exhaustion. There were still questions I needed answered, but I hadn’t been able to muster up the courage to ask.

How had he known where I was?

What happened to the other girl he got in trouble?

Why was I different?

I went into the den, expecting him, but found Lucy and Molly instead. Lucy gave me a sad smile and opened her arms. “Hey, Celia. Come here.”

“Where’s Jamie?” I asked as she embraced me.

“He had to take care of some business back at the club, but we’re going to stay and help turn this place into a home.”

“Who’s Jamie?” Molly asked from one of the bedrooms.

My eyes filled and I turned away, rapidly blinking in an attempt to stop the flood. In addition to my emotions going haywire, my breasts ached at the slightest pressure. Even the water from the shower head this morning had been too much.

It seemed I couldn’t figure out my biker any more than I could my own body.

“I see.”

I didn’t.

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