Genevieve: Day 3 (Outreach)

Thursday afternoon finds you doing almost anything to avoid making that phone call to your family. They’ll be fine, you tell yourself, but it’s still nerve-wracking. The truth is, the more you think about it, the more you realize how momentous a change this is. Not that your fear changes anything. Nobody gets to choose their future, not really. And you are sure Rebekah will make a good mom. Different from yours, definitely. A whole lot more exciting for one thing. Just so long as she doesn’t try to get the kid streaming Fluorescence on day one.

“You okay, babe?”

You turn suddenly. Rebekah had been downstairs streaming but now she’s standing in the doorway, looking concerned.

“You’ve been up here for over an hour,” she says.

“I’m just trying to get up the courage to call mom and dad,” you admit, nodding at the phone that lies untouched on the table.

“Don’t you want to tell them?” she asks after a slight pause. “Are you having second thoughts?”

“What?” you respond, immediately denying it while remembering how strong the fear was. “No! Of course not! Baby, I’m with you all the way. No, it’s just—”

Your eyes fix on a point just above her right shoulder. Just a fleck on the wall. But it’s easier to stare at that than look at Rebekah right now.

“Well… you know how parents can be.”

Her mouth tightens. Her eyes narrow.

“Yes,” she hisses. “I know EXACTLY how parents can be.”

That jerks you back to reality hard. It was probably the most stupid thing you could say to a woman who’s been abused all her life by her own mother and father. Guilt sickens your stomach.

“Oh god, I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”

She shakes her head. “It’s okay,” she says. “I just didn’t think your parents would be a problem. They seemed great when I met them at Christmas. Especially your dad. He’s so funny and kind. But if you think it’ll make them mad then we can hold off for a while.”

“It won’t,” you say, picking up the phone and staring at it. “At least, I don’t think so. Honestly, they’re more likely to get worried and try to get us both to move in with them so they can look after us or something.”

She laughs, a short, sharp little explosion of disbelief and humor. “Are you serious? And you were worried our baby might disrupt college?”

“Okay, yeah, I guess that was silly,” you say. “Look, I’m just a bit nervous. Will you sit with me when I call?”

She walks over to the bed, sitting beside you. She lays her hand affectionately on your thigh and gives you a squeeze. “Sure. I mean, it’s my news as much as yours. Go ahead, call them.”

You pick up the phone and sigh deeply. She’s right. Looking into her eyes for support you put it on speaker and dial the number. The phone rings once, twice, three times. You’re about to hang up when there’s an answer.

“Oregon Home for Wayward Husbands, Captain Bob here!”

Rebekah laughs. You close your eyes in mild embarrassment.

“Your dad is amazing!” she says.

“Wait, is that my future daughter-in-law, Rebekah?” he asks.

“DAD!” you snap. “What the hell?”

Rebekah’s covering her mouth to suppress her giggles.

You take a deep breath. “Actually, I do have something I need to talk to you and mom about. Is she there?”

“Alice?” he calls out. “Put the mailman down and come in here. Our son’s about to pop the question to Rebekah!”

“Which question is that?” you hear from the distance, getting louder as you mom enters the room. “How to celebrate winning College Spread? I mean we both know that girl has a plan to deal with that massive gap to Milo, right?”

“Will you two stop!” you say. “This is important.”

“Sorry,” says your dad. “Go ahead. What’s happened?”

You can’t speak. Not immediately at least. Rebekah responds first.

“I’m pregnant,” she says simply.

There’s a delay on the other end of the line. Both your dad and your mom take a moment to process what they just heard.

“That’s… big,” says your dad.

“How do you feel about it?” asks your mom.

You and Rebekah look at each other. The truth is, you have somehow not even spoken about that. You’ve decided you are having the child and you’ll be staying with her to be the best dad you can. You’ve looked at life consequences and some ways to deal with them. But not once did either of you stop to discuss how you actually feel about it.

“Nervous, I guess,” you admit.

“Scared!” says Rebekah. “I mean, we’re gonna be the best parents we can but this is fucking scary.”

“Yes…” your parents say together.

“So, you’re keeping it?” your mother asks.

It isn’t a suggestion, a judgment one way or the other. Yet the fact that she asked it reminds you that neither of you did. You just assumed and Rebekah didn’t challenge your assumption. The two of you stare at each other for several seconds, lost in thought.

“I think I’d like to,” says Rebekah, cautiously.

That breaks the silence.

“Me too,” you say, putting your hand on hers.

There’s another moment where nobody speaks. You and Rebekah gaze at each other, taking comfort in your closeness as you deal with the stress. Rebekah is biting her lip, understandable given the circumstance. You wonder exactly what she’s not saying, what she’s choosing not to unload on you while you talk to your parents. She’s incredible, you realize. Chaotic, wild, driven to compete… Sure, all that is true, but she’s also one of the most remarkably supportive people you know.

“So we’re going to be grandparents,” says your dad at last, his voice soft and gentle. “That’s great.”

Your body seems to sink in relaxation. There’s no condemnation, no fuss, just loving support.

“You’re not upset?”

He chuckles. “No, not at all. God knows your sister’s not settling down any time soon. I do have one question though, what are you two doing about school?”

“We’ve actually spoken about that already,” you reply. “We’re carrying on as we are. Rebekah graduates soon anyway, and we have plans for how to cover things financially.”

“Now that’s my son,” says your dad. “Always did have a good head on your shoulders.”

“Actually,” you say. “It was Rebekah who came up with the plans, but I’ll explain more about that later.”

You hear faint whispering between your parents. It’s your mother who speaks next.

“We do have a little money put away to help you with college,” she says. “We can wire it to you to help with the birth and getting your own place if you want.”

You realize that’s another thing you hadn’t considered. You’ve been largely living with Rebekah for a while now, and hadn’t thought about the need to live somewhere else. But as the baby grows, you’ll need a room for them, and while Jada’s been cool about you staying here, will she really be so when there’s a screaming baby involved?

“Thanks,” you say. “That might help. But let us call you when we need some of it okay? Right now, I think we need to go. We’re still adjusting to things, you know?”

“Sure son,” says your dad.

“And Rebekah,” adds your mom. “If you ever need us for anything, just call us. Any time. I mean that.”

Rebekah swallows hard. You can see her eyes moisten.

“I won’t be a burden…” she says.

“No,” says your mother. “You won’t. You’re part of the family now.”