It was a common insult, one he tossed at me whenever he had the chance.
“Oh shut up, Luke,” I said, bouncing Eli on my hip. “I'm still not a bigger screw-up than you. At least I went to college –”
“Only to drop out in your first semester because you got knocked up at a frat party,” he said, rolling his eyes. “But hey? Who am I to judge?”
I gritted my teeth and prepared to go off. I didn't want my son hearing crap like Luke was spewing. Right now, it didn't mean anything to him because he was so young and didn't understand. But one day, it would. And Luke had no right to talk to me like that.
“You're a disgrace, Luke McConnell,” I said, leaving the room and heading toward the kitchen.
I needed to get away from him before I went off and said some things I'd regret later. I couldn't let him get to me. I couldn't let my son see me this upset. Luke wasn't worth any of that.
I put Eli in the high chair and sat down in the breakfast nook, my head in my hands, tears streaming down my face. Luke was right though. Try as hard as I could to deny it, it was the truth – I was a failure. Medical school? Down the drain. I was taking classes at the community college in the evening, but there was no future for me as a doctor. Not anymore. I'd never be able to do that, not as a single mother.
Eli babbled, but all I could make out was, “Mama crying,” and instantly, my heart broke.
I didn't want my child to see me crying, especially about my future – or lack thereof. Especially, since my future included him. And he was very much a blessing. I never wanted him to feel like a burden or an unwanted presence. Never.
Yes, Allie had suggested an abortion and I could have done just that. If I had, I wouldn't be in my current situation and would probably already be in med school. But God, there was no way. Once I'd went to the doctor and confirmed what was happening to my body, I couldn't do it. I would never judge somebody else for having an abortion, but I couldn't do it. Not for me.
And despite the fact that my future looked way more uncertain and scary, my son was the best thing that had ever happened to me. I was thankful for him, and I could never, ever let him see me crying over the future I gave up to have him.
“No, mama isn't crying, Eli,” I said, wiping the tears away. “I'm fine. Now let's get you something to eat, okay?”
Eli smiled a toothy grin, his dark eyes so sweet and filled with so much love. My son was already getting so big; he was growing up. One day he'd hear the insults Luke threw at me and he'd understand that they were about him. Which was why I needed to put a stop to that. My son didn't need to feel like he was a burden. He was a choice. I chose to keep him. And that was a choice I never regretted – not even for a second, even though my dreams of being a doctor flew right out the window.
“What do you mean you're having a friend over? You know it's family dinner night,” my mom said as she and Luke walked into the kitchen. “It's for family only.”
Luke went to the fridge and pulled out a carton of milk, drinking from it before my mom shot him a dirty look. He grabbed a glass and rolled his eyes.
“Come on, mom. You know Reese. He's like family, isn't he?”
My heart stopped. Literally, it stopped in my chest as I fed Eli his animal crackers. I stared up at Luke, eyes wide, a nervous energy making my body hum.
“Reese? Didn't he move a long time ago?”
“Yeah, but he's back. The LA thing didn't work out too well,” he said.
“He's back?” I choked.
“Yeah, you deaf or what?” Luke turned to me with a scowl on his face. “Oh, you don't still have a crush on him, do you? He's not into MILF's, sorry.”
My hands were shaking, so I kept them underneath the table. I focused my attention on my son, trying to keep from fighting with my brother. You'd think that a twenty-five-year-old man wouldn't act like he was twelve, but he always got away with murder – even now. Mom let him talk to me this way, without so much as sticking up for me, and I hated it.
“He's not family,” I said., trying to answer for mom, hoping she'd agree with me. “Why can't he come over another night?”
“Because he just got back in town and I want to see him,” Luke said.
“Well see him,” I said. “But he doesn't have to come to dinner.”
“Oh, okay. I'll just skip dinner with the family then –”
Mom finally spoke up, shouting above both of us, “Fine, yes, invite him over. No one misses family dinner.”
She left the room in a huff, leaving me with my obnoxious older brother who looked pleased as punch. He smirked at me, and I swear, it took everything in me not to smack that smile right off his dumb looking face.
No one missed family dinner. My mom said it herself. Nobody missed it without suffering some dire consequences – usually in the form of a never-ending guilt trip. So, I knew there was no way I could get out of the dinner despite the fact that I desperately wanted to.
I racked my brain trying to figure some way out of this mess but was coming up empty at every turn. Maybe if I pretended to be sick? Maybe that would work? Nah, she rarely bought illness as an excuse for anything. Her standard response would likely be telling me to suck it up and be there. I came to the inescapable conclusion that nothing outside of my death would get me out of this.