In with the New Baby

But instead, I just feel rage. Maybe it’s a case of ‘too little, too late’ but something she had said hit some buttons I’m not ready to have hit.

She didn’t protect me.

She sure didn’t.

I already knew this, so why do I feel such rage now that she stated that fact on my voicemail?

I don’t know why I’m feeling anything that I’m feeling, but it just comes out. It’s kind of like that first day I met Amanda, how I exploded in her office. I guess it’s just something about having to face facts that sets me over the edge.

They want me to stop fighting.

They want me to have all kinds of medical stuff done to my knee.

The want me to go Texas and face my fears and my past and act like a normal human being when I’m a fucking mess.

I just can’t do it anymore. I can’t keep up the façade, my desperate attempt to live a normal, happy life. Something within me breaks. It’s like the balloon of hope just pops, right like that.

And I’m seeing flashbacks of horrific things that happened over there when I was at war. I’m seeing that asshole who tried to hurt me when I was a child.

I didn’t protect you.

You had to protect yourself.

I don’t call Damien. Instead, I call Bill.

“Hey, yo, Lincoln, I’ve been waiting for your call,” he says, as soon as he picks up. “Are you ready to face Ramirez?”

“Let’s do it,” I tell him. “Set it up. I’m ready. I’m more than ready.”

Chapter 23

Amanda

5 Weeks Later

It’s New Year’s Eve, and I’m celebrating in Odessa with my family. Lincoln didn’t come, of course. He never made good on any of his promises.

I heard he fought that guy they call Spider something. I heard he won, and beat him up pretty bad in the process. But I heard it from other people. But not from Lincoln. Because I haven’t heard from him since I told him that if he wanted anything serious with me, he had to let me into his life.

I guess he and I wanted different things, and I was naïve to think that could magically change.

Still, though, I can’t help but wish he was here. My parents and I are eating lobster and watching the horses run around outside on my dad’s ranch, through the big bay windows in the dining room. It’s nice, but it would be nicer if Lincoln was with me.

After my little hotel getaway, I made up with Margie and Anne. We had Thanksgiving together – Friendsgiving, actually – and I told them that they had both been right, despite Catharine’s protests about how I shouldn’t capitulate to them.

“Margie, you were right that I was trying to improve my looks, and everything about my life, for Lincoln. And Anne, you were right that I shouldn’t have even been doing that, because he’s my client and that’s unprofessional.” I’d sighed, as if admitting to my parents, instead of my friends, that I’d messed up. “Among other reasons. Look, you guys were right about him; he’s too hot and cold, he’s not that into me.”

I had also told them that I think I was mostly upset that they knew the news about Lincoln wanting to fight Ramirez, and I hadn’t. To find out from other people really sucked. They apologized again for their rude comments, and I forgave them, but really I knew it was my own stupid fault – I should have listened to them and I shouldn’t have trusted Lincoln.

It had been a few days since I’d seen him and he hadn’t called. Then he’d had that big fight without even mentioning to me. That was my clue that I needed to just move on.

Somehow.

That had proven pretty difficult, considering that I hadn’t gotten my period since before I’d first met Lincoln, and I was beginning to expect that somehow my trusted birth control Pill had failed me. Sure enough, I went into town to buy a pregnancy test, and it was positive.

So now, here I am with my parents and with Lincoln’s baby inside me, on New Year’s Eve. I’m going to be a single mom. I know Lincoln’s not prepared to deal with having a baby – he’s not even prepared to deal with a relationship, with letting me into his life and telling me anything important about it.

And I’ve already decided not to tell him about it, at least not until things have settled down and I’ve been able to deal with the shocking revelation myself. I don’t want to give him one more thing to have to worry about or decide about.

I’ve decided, pretty easily, that I’m keeping this baby. As soon as I found I was pregnant, I wanted to. I’ve talked with Catharine and she supports me in whatever decision I make, which is to keep it. Who needs the father of your baby when you have a friend like Catharine?