YESA
MY PARENTS HAVE LEFT more than two dozen phone messages and texts since I ran out on my wedding. Until today, I hadn’t bothered to listen or read any of them. But today I do. Today I want to clear them off my phone. I’m not going to live with regrets. That’s why I ran. And I won’t let them, or anyone for that matter, bully me into going back to Jordan. I’ve chosen a different path. I don’t know what it holds, but I’m excited to find out. As I plod through the voice mails and texts I find their words filled with you shouldn’t have’s and how could you’s. Their messages tell me how they are humiliated. Not one of the missives asks how I’m doing. Not once did they ask if I was okay. But that’s how it goes. I’m learning that you can live your life for the praise and adoration of the everyone else, while you might feel miserable inside or you can live for yourself and not worry about the rest of it. I’ve chosen the latter and I don’t know where I found the courage to do it, but I’m glad I did. I can thank Trish for that. I think if it weren’t for our recent bonding, I wouldn’t have realized that I could do what I want. I wouldn’t have known that my happiness was an option. But I do now.
I decide to put an end to the nagging phone calls and texts from my parents. I call them back. My dad answers on the first ring as if they’ve been worried sick about me. But I know that’s not true. They’ve been worried, but it hasn’t been for me.
“Casey?” My dad asks, as if he doesn’t recognize my voice. It feels strange to hear him call me Casey, since I’ve decided to use my new name, Yesa. But I don’t correct him.
“Dad.” I answer, waiting for his lecture.
“Why haven’t you returned our calls? What’s going on?” He demands and I hear my mother’s voice in the background asking him if it’s really me.
“I am returning your call. I just called you.” I state in a matter of fact manner.
“Your mother and I-“ he stops and I hear my mom whispering something to him. I don’t try too hard to make out what she’s saying. I’m only calling to put an end to the nagging. As the wedding had grown closer, my parents had been using me, at least it felt that way. They wanted to be near me, they wanted to tell their friends about my happy engagement, about our beautiful wedding plans. At the time, I’d thought it was nice. I’d thought they were trying to help. Now I realize they wanted the image and nothing more. They wanted what I had to give to them, and now I had nothing. Now I had damaged that image. “We just want to let you know…
As my father’s voice trails, I think, this is the part where they should say we just want to let you know that we’re here for you, that we love you no matter what. If you need to talk, if you need anything, we’re here honey. But instead he continues in his gruff voice. “Casey, we just want to let you know that we’re disappointed.”
I race to cut them off before they can go any further. “I know. I got your zillion voice messages.” I say flatly.
My words are ignored and he continues. “That’s enough Casey.” He clears his throat and I hear my mom whisper to him again. “Good luck making it on your own. Don’t expect any help from us. We all have to live with the choices we’ve made. Now it’s time for you to live with yours.” With that he hands the phone to my mom. “Good-bye Casey.” She whispers through her own sadness. I wish I could say she is upset for me, but I know she isn’t. She is sad for herself, for what she can’t tell the world and for what she has to. I am not the perfect daughter they portrayed me to be. Marriage was going to seal my ranks as the golden child; instead I have blown it all to pieces.
I don’t bother to say good-bye and instead I use my finger to end the call. At least they won’t be bothering me with constant calls anymore. I grab my keys and head out the door. My doctor’s appointment is today. Today I find out if I’m going to be a mother myself. If or when I am a mother, I make a vow here and now to love my child for exactly who he or she is. I make a vow to support their choices, so long as they are following their heart. As a parent, how could you want anything else? How could you want your child to have a life of less so that you could feel like something more?
I NEVER TOLD Jordan about the positive home pregnancy test. If the doctor confirms it, I will have to tell him. I don’t know how or when. I don’t know what that means; I can only imagine split parenting. Three-and-a-half days with me, three-and-a-half days with him. Sharing every other Christmas with my child. Sharing my child with Jordan’s future wife; I’m sure there will be one. I gulp, telling myself not to worry about any of this just yet. I can worry once I hear the confirmation. I can worry once I know. Right now, nothing is certain. Worrying won’t change anything and it certainly won’t fix it.
I thought about asking Trish to come with me today, but I don’t want to be a burden. I’m a big girl; I can do this on my own. I appreciate knowing that she would have come if I’d asked her. She’s already been kind enough to let me sleep on the built-in couch in their RV.
When the doctor comes in he looks to be suppressing a smile. Does that mean the test confirms the positive result? He is humming to himself and tapping his pen against my file. I wonder if he’s really reading what’s on the front page or just pretending to. He only has to deliver a two word diagnosis to me. Not Pregnant. Or you’re pregnant. There can’t be that much to read. “Ms. Jane,” I jump when he speaks.
“Yes?” I raise my eye brows, eager for his words.
“The test results show that you are not pregnant.” He is no longer smiling. I misread his face when he entered the room.
I nod, taking in the news. “Is it common for false positives with home pregnancy tests?” I am curious.
He clears his throat. “It happens sometimes.” This time he smiles sympathetically. I do not need his sympathy. I will be a mother someday, but now is not the right time. Now I don’t have to deal with custody battles and the rest of it. I feel a flush of relief wash over me at the realization of what this means for my life. “And the sickness?”
“I imagine you had a bug or it could have just been your nerves. Stress can do funny things to all of us.” He turns to flip through a pile of pamphlets and seems to find the one he is looking for. “If you’re looking for ways to reduce your stress, you should try yoga.”
Is this doctor seriously recommending yoga? I want to laugh out loud, but instead I take the pamphlet from him and thank him for the suggestion. Yoga, really?
“You’re so young. You shouldn’t let stress impact you to the point of illness. And if you do want to have children in the future, reducing your stress levels can be very helpful in that endeavor, too.” He smiles again as if he’s bestowed on me the secret of a good life. And then I think, as strange as it is, maybe he has.
I leave the doctor’s office as I came; alone. There’s no one to call to share my news – or lack of news with. I will tell Trish and Eddie tonight. Jordan never needs to know. I’m not pregnant, so it doesn’t concern him. We’re not married.
It’s such a nice day today that I’ve parked at the edge of the hospital lot. It’s a bit of a walk, but I don’t mind. The sun feels good against my skin. As I head to my car I realize I feel lighter. I hear the birds chirping in the trees above. I hear several newborn babies crying as they leave the hospital with their parents. I see a man carrying a pink CONGRATS balloon toward the hospitals entrance. I find my mind beginning to wander. I’m thinking about buying a pair of yoga pants. If nothing else, they look comfortable. I stick the pamphlet in my purse as I near the car. When I look up I see a matted black and white dog trotting toward me. I squat down to greet him. “Hey little guy…” I pat him on the head and see that his fur is crawling in pesky fleas. His long hair is pulled tight with knots. He leans his head into my stomach as I continue to pet him and I feel his thin ribs beneath the mess. I look for a collar or an ID tag around his neck and find none. I know in my heart that he is homeless. I know he needs help. And I need a distraction. I need someone to love who loves me back and I think I’ve just found him. I watch as his tattered tail begins to wag, his head still pressed into my stomach as my hands stroke his dirty fur. “What’s your story?” I whisper before realizing I’m asking myself as much as I’m asking the stray dog. We can’t fix our pasts but we can try and point ourselves in the right direction for the future. I stand and wonder if he’ll scurry away. Instead, he stays close to my feet, not wanting to be left alone. I unlock the car door and motion for him to jump in. He eagerly accepts my invitation and hops right into the passenger seat. I laugh. “You’re a lucky little guy, you know that?” I slide into the driver’s seat, shut my door, pull on my seat belt and turn on the car. He doesn’t budge. He sits at full attention, facing forward, ready for whatever is going to come next. He doesn’t know what to expect, but he knows it will be better than what he had. That’s when I realize we’re a lot alike. “Lucky is a good name. What do you think?” He turns to look at me through his matted fur, his eyes focused directly on mine. His head cocks to the side and I mirror him. I remind myself that right now I’m living on a mini couch in an RV that isn’t mine and now I’m going to have to share that tiny couch with a mutt. But I don’t mind. Something tells me he won’t mind either.
Before leaving the parking lot, I pull out my cell phone to call Trish. This, I want to tell her. “I’m bringing home a friend.” I smile through the phone.
“You’re pregnant? The doctor confirmed it?” She replies before I realize that I should have thought that’s what she’d think. I didn’t preface my statement very well.
“No, I’m not.” I laugh. “But I did find a stray dog and I named him Lucky.”
After a moment of silence, Trish processes what I’ve just told her and laughs with me. “Congratulations!” We both know that we thought that word would be spoken for an entirely different reason. Regardless of this fact, I know she means it. I am happy and she is happy for me.
“I’m on my way back. You’ll meet him soon. Oh, and Trish?”
“Yeah? Do you have a cat too?” She’s still laughing.
“I’ll be finding a place of my own soon. I promise.” And I mean that.
“No worries.”
“Thank you.” I murmur while reaching over to pet Lucky again.
We hang up from our call and I back out of my parking spot and head to the road. If you would have told me a few weeks ago that I’d be single with a dog today, I would have said you were crazy. But here I am. Maybe I’m crazy, but I know that I’m exactly where I want to be.