Authors: Michelle Kemper Brownlow
I dropped the bag of Down syndrome information and rested my elbows on my thighs. My face fell into my hands, and my shoulders shook with sadness. I sobbed for the baby I thought I was having before I walked into Dr. Daily’s office, and I sobbed for the baby I may give birth to. But, I sobbed especially from the guilt of being so distraught over the news, and I prayed out loud to a God I hadn’t spoken to for a long time.
“God, if you’re really up there, and you can hear me, I need clarity. I don’t want to go through this pregnancy in fear of what my—our—baby will be like. I don’t want to be fearful of the child you’ve placed with me.” It was weird that all of that poured from my mouth. I didn’t even know what I wanted to pray when I bowed my head, but I suppose my subconscious did. “God, I’m asking you for reminders of the gift she is, even when I’m feeling burdened by all the ‘what ifs’.”
The door to the chapel whined, and I heard footsteps behind me. I turned, hoping it was Calon, but it was a woman with her face in her hands. Another woman, who could’ve been her mom, held her upright as she walked. The younger woman’s knees buckled, and she wept. Her mom helped her into a pew and caught her as she fell into her lap. Her cries were pained. I wiped my face and tried not to stare. I was heartbroken for this woman who maybe had just lost a father or a husband.
I stood, wiped my face again and said a quick, silent ‘Amen’ then left to give them the same privacy I had. I stood right outside the doors and reached into my bag for more tissues to clean myself up before I walked out to Gracie’s car. A man with bloodshot eyes walked up and tried to see through the stained glass windows into the chapel.
“Did a woman with dark hair and a red sweater just go in there?” His voice was gravely and hoarse.
“Yeah. Is she okay?” I knew it was none of my business, but I felt compelled to ask.
“We just…” He took a couple staggered breaths and pressed his lips into the back of his hand. “Our son, Julian, won’t be with us much longer. We were hoping for a miracle, but I guess God needs him more than we do.” He nodded and walked through the doors.
I placed my hand on my stomach and felt her kick twice. She was our miracle, and I took that as a reminder, the sign I’d specifically asked for. In that moment, I decided to try my damnedest to work through my emotions and see her as just that, a miracle.
Gracie met me at the doors. Her expression distressed.
“Becki, what is it?” I knew she wouldn’t be devastated when I told her the news. I knew exactly what she would say.
“There’s a chance the baby will be born with Down syndrome.” I tipped my head to the side and a single tear rolled down my cheek. I felt so guilty for being sad.
“Oh, Becki.” She hugged me so tight I could barely breathe. “I know this is scary for you now, but if she does have Down syndrome, she will still be perfect. You’ll see.” She hugged me again.
“Of course, she won’t have a dad, and she’ll be born in jail, because I’m going to kill Calon for putting a conference call ahead of our appointment,” I declared as we walked toward her car.
“That’s not like him. Not like him at all.” She shook her head, but I could see the wheels turning. She tried hard to find the same loophole I’d been searching for. Something that would keep Calon on his pedestal.
“I’m worried, Gracie. What if all this is too much for him? And, now, I’ve got to tell him there’s a chance she’ll have a serious disorder?” I flopped down into the front seat of Jake’s car.
“Becki, do you really see him reacting that way? If anything, I see him taking the opposite path and being so overbearing you’ll want to strangle him.” We both laughed. That’s the Calon I expected to meet me at the appointment.
My phone buzzed. I answered it without looking at the screen, I knew it had to be Calon.
“Calon?”
“Becki!” It was Bones.
“Bones, where the hell—”
“Becki! The cops just came for Calon.”
“THANK YOU FOR
coming in. Mr. Ridge.”
“Calon. You can call me Calon.”
“Okay, Calon. We have a few questions for you regarding a young lady you met at Mitchell’s two weeks ago. The detective that took his good ole’ time to get to the interview room sat across a table from me.
I was trying to keep my cool, but I was getting anxious. At the studio he said I just needed to come down to the station to answer some questions. I figured a couple questions wouldn’t put me in jeopardy of missing the conference call or being late to meet Becki for our appointment with Dr. Daily. But no one said anything about waiting a half an hour in a room by myself. Now I could quite possibly miss both.
“Listen, I’m going to be late for an appointment, and I have no signal in here. Is there a phone I could use before we get started?”
“You can use the one on the wall.” The detective pointed to a phone that looked like it had been there since the nineteen sixties. I quickly punched in Becki’s number. It rang three times and went to voice-mail, and ‘I’m at the police station. I’ve been called in for questioning’ isn’t something I wanted to leave in a message. “Dammit.” I hung up and walked back to my seat.
“Calon, a young lady filed a formal complaint this morning that she had been attacked by you at Mitchell’s Pub two weeks ago.” The officer paged through a file and continued to look me up and down. “She said you were drunk and unruly and you assaulted her in a back room. She had photos of bruising on her wrist that she claims was from you. Do you have any recollection of this?”
“That’s bullshit! Look, there was a girl Mitchell’s who asked me to take some photos with her and her friends. When we were out of eyeshot of the rest of the bar, she shoved her hand down my pants, but I absolutely did not attack her. I removed her hand from my pants, which could be where the bruises came from. I feel bad for hurting her, if I did, but I was completely freaked out.”
“So, you’re saying she came onto you.” He jotted something down.
“Yes, I am. She told me she just wanted to get me alone so she could tell me she’d do anything to be able to have just one night with me.”
“So, you didn’t put your hands on her?” He tapped his pen.
“I did. But only to get her hands off my dick.” I took a couple deep breaths and looked at the clock. “Is that clock right?”
He nodded. I started to sweat.
“Give me a minute, I want to run something by my partner. I’ll be right back.” He headed toward the door.
“Can I try that phone again?”
“Sure. But, just so you know, it will show up as a BLOCKED number on caller ID.” He shut the door behind him.
That’s why she didn’t answer. There was no sense in trying again.
Shit! Shit! Shit!
I rubbed my face in my hands and started pacing. This was not going to go down well at all. Becki was going to kick my ass. Not only was I missing the appointment she was worried about, but I was at the police station being questioned for something I hadn’t even told her happened between me and Charlotte. I walked over to the window, hoping to get a signal on my cell phone.
NO SIGNAL
I looked down to the streets below and wondered about the lives of the people I saw walking around. Where were they going? What obstacles had life thrown their way? I thought about how blessed my life really was and all I had to be thankful for.
I looked around the dingy, stale room and thought about how easy it would have been for me to end up in jail if I would have followed the stereotypical path. Single mom and her dysfunctional relationships with various men along with the beatings I endured at the hand of more than one of them. Then you factor in the gaping hole in my heart for Kate, the baby sister I’d never see again, and Chloe’s death. I could have landed into the rock star scene without as much as a blip on the screen, just another junkie. Maybe I would have made headlines when I overdosed on crack or beat the shit out of my girlfriend, but that wasn’t who I was. Despite the hell I’d been through, my heart was too sensitive to bring pain to anyone, except for assholes like Max. But, at the same time, that sensitivity threatened to rip me to pieces when I tried to digest what the hell Becki and I were doing… becoming parents. I was scared out of my mind.
I must’ve stood there thinking for quite some time because when I looked at the clock, panic shot through me. The appointment had to be over, or close to it.
“Well, Calon, all I need from you is a written statement, and then you’re free to go.”
“Thank God!”
The detective told me to write out the scenario exactly how it happened and sign it.
“Thanks for your cooperation, Calon. I know this isn’t how you planned on spending your day.”
“No worries. You’re just doing your job. Have a good day.”
I decided to take my motorcycle to the station as a means to calm my nerves before being questioned. But, I had no idea that nothing would be able to calm what was going on in my head when I left the building. Nothing but wrapping my arms around the woman who held my heart and hoping she could forgive me.
No sooner did I throw my leg over the seat and all the missed calls, voicemails, and texts I missed while I didn’t have service started buzzing in my pocket.
I didn’t bother scrolling through them. I hit the call back button next to Becki’s name. It rang twice and stopped. She picked up but didn’t say a word. My stomach flipped over itself.
“Becks?”
“What the hell, Calon?” She barely got the entire question out before she burst into tears. She tried to talk through her sobs, but I couldn’t understand a word she said. Then the phone went dead.
I called her back.
“Calon?” It was Gracie’s voice.
“Gracie, she’s going to kill me, isn’t she?” I dropped my head into my free hand.
“Unless I get to you first. Calon, where are you?”
“It’s probably better if I tell her that in person. Can you just take her to my place?”
“Sure. Calon?”
“Yeah, G?”
“Don’t screw this up. She needs you now more than she’s ever needed anyone in her life.” Her voice was muffled, like she was trying to keep her words just between us.
“Thanks for being there for her.” The line went dead which I deserved.
Just then a text came in.
Bones:
Nice move, dick. We lost the opp with Blue Note Recording bc you ditched the call.
“Fuck!” I let my bike slowly roll into the street and fishtailed when I gave it full throttle. My heart was in knots. I was leaving one unexpected situation and walking into another. And I was sure Becki had been through even more with me missing the appointment and her having no idea why. It was a bad day for both of us. The excessive speed of my bike barely touched the stress I’d hoped to relieve but had me home in no time.
I pulled into my driveway and saw Gracie and Becki leaning against the back of Jake’s car. They linked arms and walked toward me. I could read Gracie’s face, and it plainly said,
You better have a good explanation for this, or we’re both going to kill you.
“Becki, I am so sorry. Let me explain.” This is exactly why I should have told her about Charlotte the night it all went down, not two weeks later when I’m made to look stupid guilty. I opened my arms to pull her into me, and she punched me in the gut for all she was worth.
“That’s for not answering your phone when I called you.”
She stomped on my foot before I had fully straightened up from the sucker punch.
“And that was for missing the appointment. What the hell, Calon?”
“Becks, listen. The police needed me to go down to the station and answer some questions because someone made a bogus claim that I assaulted them.”
She slammed her palms into my chest and pushed me away from her. Hard. “And that’s for being a convict!”
She was definitely pissed, but knowing I’d been brought in for questioning and not just delinquent in making the appointment took the edge off. I hoped.
Gracie offered to have Jake drive the rental car back to my apartment later, so Becki and I could just hash out everything that was going on in our lives at the moment.
Becki waved as Gracie climbed into the car. Becki’s eyes flashed up to mine, and she held my gaze just long enough for me to see the depth of sadness she carried in them. But she said nothing.