Page 75 of Almost Priest

“I’ll never ask him for anything.”

Some of the pain she’d been lugging around for the past four months suddenly slipped away. She owned a part of him after all.

Her shaky hand tentatively touched her slightly protruding belly.

“This is my baby. Mine.”

Adjustingto the idea of motherhood was surprisingly easy for Samantha. She immediately contacted her OB/GYN and—shock of all shocks—she was pregnant. She tried not to over berate herself for being such a moron and not putting two and two together. It helped when her obstetrician explained that lots of pregnant moms complain about feeling like they are walking around in a fog and not being able to remember everyday things.

Once the doctor had verified that she was in fact pregnant, Samantha considered contacting Colin. She looked online for a phone number to the McCullough’s home. She could just call Braydon at school and get the number, but she didn’t want to have to answer any questions until she spoke to Colin. Then it occurred to her that Colin was likely living at Saint Peter’s again, or they at least would have a better knowledge of where he was. So she looked up the church online and that was when she had the idea of flipping through archived church bulletins.

When she reached August’s newsletter her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach. On the first page was a calendar and there on the first of August was written, Ordainment of Colin McCullough.

He had done it. He’d gone ahead and become a priest. She knew he would have, but for some reason seeing the proof of the act was like dying a hundred deaths all over again. She tried not to get too upset knowing it wasn’t good for the baby. After that day she vowed she would never tell a single soul who her child’s father was, including Father Colin McCullough.

The baby was due on March fifteenth. By Christmas she was the size of a house. Her mother had gone baby bonkers once the pregnancy was openly acknowledged. Sam suspected her mother would never want her to move out once the baby was born. Being that Sam was on her way to being a single mom with a child to worry about, the idea of staying with her mother and father close by didn’t bother her in the least.

When she told them she would stay they had the guest cottage converted into living quarters for her and the baby. It had already been remodeled for the guests of the B&B so there really wasn’t much to change. Sam simply purchased a few personal touches for herself and the baby and brought in a few extra appliances like a microwave and mini-fridge. For the most part they’d still be eating with her parents for most meals. It was just enough privacy, but still gave her the comfort of knowing her parents were close by.

On New Year’s Day her mother surprised her with a baby shower. It was small and nice. All the girls from work had come and Sam felt much loved.

She couldn’t help but imagine how different her shower would’ve been if Maureen McCullough had been involved. She imagined all the aunts and Morai and Italian Mary and smiled fondly at the fantasy. If only the circumstances were different. Then she banished the thought.

Her mother had been wonderful to her since finding out. To wish Maureen was there somehow felt disloyal. Yet, Sam knew her not telling Maureen of her coming grandchild was pure treachery in itself. All in all, thoughts of Maureen and the rest of the McCulloughs made her feel confused and guilty so she tried to think of them as little as possible.

For the most part it was easy not to think of the McCulloughs. They were hundreds of miles away and no one close to Samantha knew of their existence. If ever she did think of them or him, no one knew it but her.

The baby began to move a lot. Sam would lay awake at night watching her stomach flutter and poke. Gestating was a fascinating thing. It made her sad that not only was Colin missing her pregnancy, but that he would never know what it was to experience parenthood with this level of intimacy. If things were different, Sam believed Colin would’ve adored witnessing his child grow.

By March Samantha had completely given up on style. She was fairly certain she was having a girl because her looks had turned to shit. Her hair remained in a simple ponytail. All of her dress slacks were traded in for comfy yoga pants she hoped were dark enough that co-workers didn’t realize they were essentially sweat pants. If they did they didn’t say anything. Resigned to empire cut blouses, she accepted pregnancy was not a job for the vain. On top of all that, antacids had become a major food group.

She spent an extra twenty minutes a day trying to get out of chairs and learned that low seating was something she should never chance without a buddy to help her back up. It was easier to simply stand, but then her ankles started swelling to the point she thought she would need new shoes, and her sciatica began to pinch and ache. So sat she did.

She had been sitting at her desk one afternoon working on lesson plans for the sub that would come when she started her maternity leave, enjoying a soft pretzel and ridiculously large banana smoothie, when there was a knock at her classroom door.

“Knock, knock.”

Sam looked up and almost choked on her pretzel, the dough turning to lead on her tongue.

“Braydon,” she wheezed.

“I thought I’d find you here. I was in the neighborhood and figured I’d ask if you worked here. Low and behold here you are.”

She knew she was being rude, but she had so not prepared for this. “It’s really not a good time. I have a lot of work to get done before next week.”

He stepped farther into her classroom anyway. Sam slumped lower in her chair. She might as well have been trying to hide a beach ball under a tissue.

“You look great. Different.”

“Thanks. You look good too.”

He came and plopped his keys down and sat right on the edge of her desk, making himself right at home.

“You’ll never believe who’s applying to Villanova.”

“Who?” she asked mechanically.

“Sheilagh. My mom, who still talks about you all the time by the way, says she’s really grown up in the past few months. No one knows what happened, but it’s like she went to bed one night a bratty child demanding respect and woke up an adult prepared to earn it. She’ll probably get in. Shei’s always been smart. Kelly’s still the same old—”

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