Choices

‘Please, please, please.’

Theresa whispered as she gripped the stick. The seconds on her watch ticked by slowly. Eventually two minutes were up. She turned it round to see two clear blue lines.

‘No!’

She dropped the pregnancy kit and it clattered into the bath. Well, that was it then- she was pregnant. No arguing with those blue lines.

‘Oh God, what am I going to tell Jake? What am I going to tell Mum?’

She sighed heavily. This was not how it was supposed to happen. It was meant to be a bright summer’s day when she found out that she was pregnant. She would tell her husband, and they would hold hands and lovingly look into each other’s eyes as they contemplated their beautiful future together. She looked out the grubby bathroom window- it was a miserable January day. Rain was falling lazily as though it wasn’t in the mood but didn’t have anything better to do. How did this happen? She was supposed to be married by now, to understand who she was and her place in life, and what about the travelling that she and Jake had planned? They were going to backpack all round Asia. Now it was unlikely that any of that would happen for a long time, if ever.

Theresa stood up and chucked the kit unceremoniously into the bin, and went downstairs to make herself a strong cup of coffee, decaf of course. Now to wait for Jake to get home to break the news.

- - -

‘Jake, there’s something I need to tell you.’

He glanced up at her, not stopping from shovelling mashed potato into his mouth.

‘What?’

‘I’m pregnant.’

He froze mid-chew. Silence for a few seconds as his face drained of all colour. He swallowed loudly and his fork clattered onto his dinner plate.

‘Oh no.’

‘That’s what I said too. So, we need to decide…’

‘You’re going to have it terminated, obviously.’ He interrupted.

‘Well, nothing’s obvious, we really need to sit down and talk things through.’

‘There’s nothing to talk through because there’s no choice. You’re not ready for a baby, I’m not ready for a baby, so obviously we can’t have a baby.’

‘Jake, yes, it was an accident and we’re probably not ready for a baby. But, it’s happened so we need to think about it surely? I mean, I’m 30 and you’re 32, we’re hardly teenagers, and we were always going to have kids one day weren’t we?’

‘Were we? I don’t remember discussing this.’

Theresa took a sip of water to ease her dry throat. She felt afraid that the decision would be taken out of her hands just because Jake was better at arguing. He usually won disagreements because of an unshakable belief that he was always right. She wished she had his self-belief.

‘Jake, please listen. This is important to me. It’s my body and …’

‘Typical woman! It’s always about you and your bodies isn’t it? Well, what about me? It’s my child too you know, so don’t you think I should have a say in anything? I’m not going to talk to you right now, you’re not being rational.’

He stood up and left. She heard the football coming loudly on the telly in the next room.

Theresa stared at his cooling half-eaten dinner of chicken drumsticks, mashed potato with extra butter and carrots. His favourite. Her stomach felt empty, even though she had just eaten. She felt suddenly tired: tired of arguing; tired of thinking; tired of everything. She sighed and closed her eyes.

- - -

‘Theresa, are you ok?’

She opened her eyes. It was Jake- she obviously hadn’t heard him get home. Too busy daydreaming.

‘Yes, I’m fine.’

She stood up and emptied the mug of cold coffee into the sink, taking her time rinsing it out under the tap. A few stray drops of water splashed onto her shirt like lost raindrops.

‘Ok, you just looked a million miles away. What’s for dinner?’ Asked Jake, tossing his old leather jacket onto the back of a chair with practiced ease.

‘Um… chicken, mash and carrots.’

‘My favourite! Right, I’m going to watch the footie. It’s Arsenal versus Chelsea, and I’ve got £20 on the gunners whipping Chelsea’s arses.’

He grabbed a can of Stella, ripping the ring pull off with a flourish and chucking it on the kitchen table, before leaving the room.

Theresa looked out of the kitchen window. Night had fallen. And it was still raining.

- - -


When Theresa went to bed that night, she still hadn’t told Jake. Why was she being so childish about this? The problem was that telling another person would make it real, and if it was real then it had to be dealt with. And she didn’t want to deal with it- not yet. It was great having a secret- a little person growing in her belly that no-one knew was there except her. She liked the idea of a baby so much- a little person to love, to see the world through their eyes- new and full of hope. But she would probably have to give up her career. And their exotic holidays- for a few years at least. Was she willing to throw away her youth? And her relationship with Jake would change. Would he still fancy her if he saw her as his child’s mother rather than his girlfriend? And then there was the ‘M’ word: marriage. She wanted to bring her child up in a stable home just like her parents had done for her and her sister Catherine. Besides, her mother would never stop bugging her about the wedding day- she was bad enough now.

- - -

The next day was Saturday, and that meant that Jake disappeared for 3 hours in the morning, playing footie with his mates at the park. No, most men never grow up.

Jake rushed his breakfast of scrambled eggs on toast.
‘Man, I can’t believe that I’m going to be late again!’ He said, pushing a slice of toast into his already stuffed mouth.

‘I don’t want to be on Gary’s team- he always plays up-front and never passes the ball. Just not a team player. Are you ok?’

‘Hmm? Yes, fine thanks, just tired. I didn’t sleep well last night.’ She had been staring at a space on the wall above Jake’s head, not really listening. She really needed to pull herself together.

‘I’m off, why don’t you go back to bed? You look rough.’ And with one last gulp of his tea, left in a blur.

Theresa struggled to swallow a piece of toast. The red kitchen walls seemed to be closing in on her. They reminded her of congealed blood- why had she chosen such a menacing colour? It had seemed bold at the time. Her breath began to come in short, sharp bursts.

‘Calm down you stupid girl!’ She reprimanded herself, putting her head in between her knees and trying to slow her breathing.

‘In… and out.’

‘In… and out.’

She needed to stop fixating and start thinking logically. As her dad used to advise when she ran to him with some teenage crisis (usually about a boy), ‘Focus on the facts, not on feelings.’

Ok, so the facts were: she was pregnant; this was not planned; Jake would not be happy about it; she was actually quite happy about it; she hadn’t told Jake yet. She just couldn’t bring herself to shatter his peaceful existence with such startling news. And the last thing that she wanted right now was a falling out. Oh God, why can’t things be simple? There were so many thoughts swimming around in her head that she could not concentrate on one. And so, as she drained the dregs of her coffee cup and swept the crusts of her toast into the bin, she made a decision. She would go where she always went when she couldn’t think straight- when the stuff of life got too much for her.

Theresa parked her yellow Mini in the deserted car park and entered the building. Was it ok to wear jeans and a shirt in here? She hadn’t been for so long that she couldn’t quite remember the dress code. How long had it been? Oh yes, two years, that’s how long her father had been dead. The ancient stone steps echoed her every footfall as she entered a twilight world. Her heart was beating fast, and she was worried that someone might hear- the place was deathly silent. She shivered. A bank of candles to the right of the vestibule spluttered in the breeze that entered as the closed the heavy door behind her. For a second she considered leaving, what was she doing here? But then she looked up and there, shining against the gloom was a magnificent stained glass window depicting Mary holding baby Jesus.

‘Is this how you felt?’ Theresa whispered.

Theresa thought that she shouldn’t be so flippant- Mary’s baby was the Son of God for goodness sake- it was hardly the same. Still, Mary would probably feel some empathy for her if they were to meet today. The sunshine streamed through the coloured glass, lighting up the sombre room with a rainbow of colour, and highlighting Mary’s radiant gold robe. Theresa chose a seat on a pew near the back of the room, and closed her eyes.

She prayed for the first time in two years, for the first time since her father had died so unexpectedly. It had left them all feeling hollow, and left Theresa thinking that maybe there wasn’t a God after all, or if there was, He didn’t seem to care much for her family. How could He take away her dad so suddenly? It was ridiculous- he had been fishing at the lake like he did every Sunday, and the next thing he was dead. They had found him lying in the foetal position on the grass, as though he was taking a nap. He’d been 54 years old, not even retired! Her mother had retreated so far into herself that she hadn’t found her way back out yet, and her two little nieces had spent months asking where Grandad was, simply not understanding why he had left without even saying goodbye. And Theresa herself, well, she may have been a grown woman of 28 with a stable career and a live-in boyfriend, but that didn’t mean that she didn’t need her dad.

‘Oh God, how could you do that to me then? How could you do this to me now? I don’t know what to do about this baby, I don’t know what to do about Jake. Please help me, because I’m feeling pretty useless right now.’

Silence. After a long time listening to the sound of her breathing, Theresa opened her eyes to see the stained-glass window again. The sun had travelled further west and the colours were more diluted. Baby Jesus was looking at her, and his eyes seemed so full of wisdom. So full of courage. Look at what He had endured -, treated like a criminal, killed by His own people, simply for doing what was right. She knew what He would do. Like Him, Theresa knew that she needed to do the right thing- either that or live with regret for the rest of her life. After lighting a candle in memory of her dad, she left the church.

- - -

Jake was back when she got home. He was still wearing his football gear, and stank of sweat.

‘I don’t think we have any actual food in here.’ He mumbled from behind the fridge door. ‘Two half-empty jars of pasta sauce; three bottles of Jacob’s Creek; 9, 10, 11 cans of Stella; tomato ketchup; a bag of salad (that doesn’t count as food); milk; I can’t believe it’s not butter; some gone-off natural pre-biotic yoghurt- yuk; oh hang on what’s this- half an Easter egg! Good, I’m starving!’

He popped the chocolate into his mouth like a naughty schoolboy, looking very pleased with himself.

‘Where have you been? He asked as Theresa walked in. You look… different.’

‘Somewhere I could think.’

‘And what have you got to think about?’ He asked, opening a can of Stella.

‘I had a lot on my mind.’

Jake wiped a smear of chocolate from his top lip. He put the lager on the kitchen table and took her hands in his own.

‘Come, sit down. I could tell that something was going on, but that you weren’t ready to tell me. What is it?’

‘Jake, I’m pregnant. I know this is a shock, and you’ll want to talk about…’

‘I’m going to be a dad?’

Jake sprung forward to hug Theresa, knocking the can of Stella off the table. It landed with a clunk, spilling frothy lager all over the kitchen tiles.

‘Are you ok with this?’ She asked, pulling away, surprised at his enthusiasm.

‘Ok? Well, it’s definitely a shock. But actually, yes, I am very happy about it. Wow. But are ok you with it? Do you want to have a baby now? I mean, you just got promoted a few months ago, are you willing to put all that on hold?’

‘Yes, I am actually. I had to think about it, but I know that it’s the right choice for me. For us.’

‘Well, that’s that then. We’re going to be parents. Don’t worry about cooking tonight, I’ll take care of it- you need to rest. Is Dominoes ok?’

‘Yes, Dominoes is fine.’ Theresa smiled, resting her hand gently on her stomach.

A ray of sun coming in through the kitchen window highlighted the pool of lager at their feet, turning it as gold as Mary’s robe.