Chapter 140
Norman, Oklahoma, 1955
The fall breeze had a bite to it as Elliott headed to his car after school. It had been about a month since Reggie died, maybe a little more than that—he had done his best not to count the days—and all he wanted to do was get home, change clothes, hang out with his brother for a few minutes, and then head to work. Now that he was no longer staying after for football practice, he was working every afternoon and evening at the used car lot, trying to earn more money for college. His old mom, Arlene, had always told him it was pointless to even think about going to college when he was as dumb as the bricks that made up the building, but Peggy believed in him, and he decided he wanted to go to school to figure out what made people tick. Why was Peggy so kind and loving while Arlene was so angry and hateful all the time? What made someone like Marv Smoot get behind the wheel of a truck when he knew he was too wasted to drive? What made someone like Michael Sanderson decide he never even wanted to meet his son?
“Elliott!”
The voice behind him was shrill, and it made him freeze in his tracks. He knew who it was, and this wasn’t even the first time in the last few weeks she’d called out to him, but it was the first time she’d sounded like that—frantic, upset perhaps? He turned slowly to see Nancy jogging in his direction, pulling her sweater around her shoulders as she came.
“Oh, so you’re not deaf after all,” she muttered as she came to a stop in front of him, folding her arms across her chest.
“Hi, Nancy.” He pushed his hands down deep into the pockets of his letter sweater. “I’m sorry. I’ve just been… busy.”
“Bullshit.” She was more than frantic. She was pissed. “Listen, I have been calling your house and trying to chase you down at school for a week. I need to talk to you.”
Elliott realized it had actually been longer than that, but if that was all she was upset about, he could live with it. “I’m sorry. What is it, Nancy?”
She inhaled deeply through her nostrils, making them flare, and took a step forward before glancing over each shoulder. Then, in a tense voice she said, “I’m late.”
Confusion washed over him as he puzzled over the brief statement. Did she need a ride somewhere? Was she saying she didn’t have time to talk to him right now? Unsure of what she might mean, he asked, “Late for what?”
Nancy growled at him, balling her hands into fists. “No, stupid. I’m late. My period.”
It still took almost a full minute for realization to slap him in the face. “Your what?” he asked, his eyes enlarging. He knew what a period was, of course, but he wasn’t certain if she was saying what he thought she was saying.
“My period is late, and my period is never late,” she said through clenched teeth. “Elliott—I’m afraid I might be--”
“Now, just wait there, Nancy.” He didn’t let her finish the statement, couldn’t even hear those words, especially not right now, not with everything going on with Reggie, and football, and his job, and life in general. He had just figured out what he was going to do. There was no way she could possibly be…. “You said—you said it was like dogs. You said if you weren’t on your period….”
“I know what I said, damn it, Elliott. But I guess I might’ve been wrong.”
“You might’ve been wrong?” He was truly trying to keep his voice down, but it came out loud and shrill, almost like hers, and a few people several parking spots away turned and looked at them, causing her to smack him in the arm, hard. “Damn it, Nancy. How late are you?”
“I’m not exactly sure,” she admitted.
“But you said you’re never late. How do you know that if you don’t know when you’re supposed to start?”
“I just know I’ve never been worried about it before, that’s all,” she shot back.
“Well, when was your last… you know.”
“It was a few weeks before we….”
“How many weeks?”
“I’m not sure!” She hit him again. “Maybe two.”
Elliott inhaled, held it, and let it out slowly. “Well, Nancy, are you sure it was… me?”
“WHAT!” She hit him again, this time with her fist, right in the bicep, hard enough to make him stagger backward. “How dare you! I’m not some kind of slut!”
“I’m sorry!” Elliott stammered. They were starting to draw some onlookers now. “Listen, Nancy, why don’t we get in my car and talk about this?”
“In your car? That’s what got us into this mess in the first place!”
He wanted to point out that, while she might not be a slut, she had been in at least one other man’s car, recently, for that matter, but he bit his tongue. And she had been the one to drag him over into the back seat, not the other way around. “Have you told your parents?”
“Hell, no I haven’t told my parents! My father is a deacon in the Baptist Church. He’ll disown me! And my mother will have a heart attack!”
“Well, Nancy… maybe you should go to a doctor. You need to make sure. And then, if you are pregnant, we’ll figure it out.” He wanted to add if she was sure it was his, but he knew now was not the time to mention that.
She still looked both angry and flustered, but she nodded. “If I’m pregnant now, I’ll be having this baby right after graduation time, Elliott. I was going to go to accounting school.”
“I know, Nancy.”
“I… I was going to be something, not just a stupid mother, walking around pregnant all the damn time, taking care of the kids and ironing her husband’s shirts.”
“I’m so sorry, Nancy.”
“You should be! You did this to me. Damn you, Elliott Sanderson!”
Again, he bit his tongue, not reminding her that she had literally pulled him into the back seat and ripped his pants off. “It’ll be all right, Nancy. Let’s not get too upset before we know for sure.”
She nodded again. “You can say I need to go to the doctor to find out, Elliott, but I know right now. I know when there’s something foreign in my own body.”
He imagined that would likely be right. He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his unruly hair. How in the world was he going to tell his parents about this? Forget going to college. How would he even finish high school? Nancy was close enough to graduation, but he wasn’t even halfway through his sophomore year. “It’ll be all right, Nancy.” This time, he said it more for himself than for her.
She shook her head at him and started to walk away before she stopped, and over her shoulder she yelled, “Next time I call, you better answer. On the first ring.”
Elliott affirmed his understanding and watched her walk away, wondering what in the world he was going to do about this.
