Authors: Ashley Monahan
“We’ll change the meeting for
tomorrow. You call us tonight and tell us how the appointment went.”
“I will.”
“Talk to you later.”
“Love you Daddy.”
“Love you too.”
Mercy hung up. She felt guilty for lying, but it was a necessary evil.
The afternoon hours crept by. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. God, would three o’clock ever come? And then, slowly, painfully, it did.
Mercy sat on a paper lined bed waiting for the doctor.
“I know you didn’t want to believe your five over the counter pregnancy tests,” her young doctor said stepping back into the room, “but you are indeed pregnant.”
“Whaa…but, my doctor told me I’d never have kids.”
“Your doctor was wrong.”
Mercy laid back on the bed.
“Congratulations Mercy.”
“Umm…yeah.”
She wasn’t sure how she felt about it. Terrified was the first emotion, but somewhere inside there also was excitement.
“You’re about eight weeks along.”
Mercy put her hands to her forehead and her breathing quickened.
“I can imagine it’s a shock after being told you’d never conceive.”
“To say the least.” Mercy stared wide eyed at a florescent light.
“Do you have any questions for me?”
“I’m in shock right now…I can’t think.”
The doctor sat in a chair beside her bed.
“I have a few questions I’d like to ask you and then we’ll go over some instructions on what you’re going to need to do and change over your pregnancy.”
“Okay,” Mercy said monotone.
Mercy needed someone to be at the appointment taking notes because half of what the doctor said she didn’t hear.
For the rest of the day Mercy was on autopilot. At 7:00 p.m. her phone rang. Cora.
“Hi Mom.”
“How’s your leg honey?”
“It’s going to be okay. I, uh, just over did it.” How would she ever break this to her parents? They would be devastated. They believed in traditional marriage and a traditional family. Not a child out of wedlock. Add to the equation that it was Marc’s child and they’d both be dead of a heart attack.
“You need to be careful.”
“I know. I’m really tired though Mom, could I catch up with you tomorrow night?”
“Sure. You take care and take it easy.”
“I will.”
Mercy hung up the phone and Lego rubbed up against her leg.
“Come here,” she called him. Lego jumped in her lap. “What am I go to do boy? What the hell am I going to do?”
SECOND CHANCES
Marc
Four months later.
Marc sat in handcuffs leaned against the tire of a police cruiser. Again. The police, which were all supposed to be accounted for by scouts, obviously were not. Five cruisers had surrounded him and another racer, Link, before they could get away. Another arrest to add to the sheet. At least Marc had won. He could use his winnings to have Ace bail him out. Marc could kiss his license goodbye again.
“Foster, get up.” An officer pulled painfully on Marc’s cuffs.
“I’m up, Jesus.”
He was tossed into the back of a cruiser and taken to the local county jail. Hector came and bailed him out. He would do some jail time for this incident. And his car was impounded. Shit.
It was dawn when Hector parked on the road by his house. Marc saw a familiar Jeep in the driveway.
“What the hell?”
“Who’s that?”
“It’s, ah, it’s fine.” Marc stepped of Hector’s car and walked toward the door where a beautiful woman was sitting on his doorstep, her arms curled around her legs.
“Mercy?” he said shocked. “What are you doing here?”
“Hi to you too,” she said. He could immediately tell something was wrong.
“Are you alright?”
“That depends on your definition of alright.”
She looked angelic. Almost glowing. He wanted to take her in his arms and carry her into his house, but stopped his caveman instincts.
“Can we talk?” she asked.
“Ah, sure.” Marc unlocked the door and walked inside. She followed behind him. When Marc turned to face her he immediately noticed what had been concealed while she was sitting.
“Wow,” he said and brought his hands to the side of his head. “I thought—you said—” The ability to make sentences evaded him at the sight of her bump.
“My doctor was obviously wrong.” Mercy put her hand on her stomach.
“But you can’t—you can’t have kids.”
“That’s what they told me.”
“But you’re pregnant.” Marc was in shock.
“Six months pregnant.”
Marc turned around, paced a few steps, and then returned to her.
“Is it mine?”
“Yes, he’s yours. You’re the only one I’ve been with.”
He’s.
It was a boy. Marc felt happiness then panic set in. He couldn’t be a father. Not with what he was.
“Mercy…I…”
“I know this isn’t what you bargained for. And I told you I couldn’t have children. But I am pregnant and he is yours. Your child Marc.”
“I can’t be a father. No child deserves me as a father.”
Mercy sat down on his couch and wiped her eyes. Marc hated to see her cry. He wanted to scoop her up and hold her tight, but held back.
“With your lifestyle I agree.”
“I will support him,” Marc said and sat down.
“I don’t want your drug money, Marc. I can support both of us just fine.”
That comment stung.
“Then what do you want from me?”
“I’m giving you the chance to be the man I know you are. To be a father to our child, to live an honest life.” Mercy passed him an envelope.
“What is this?”
“It’s a ticket to British Columbia. I’m moving there permanently. My parents are moving as well.”
“So there’s no way I’d see him even if I wanted to.”
“You’re not going to see him unless you change your life.”
“I told you, I can’t.”
“Even for your own god damn child?!”
“I couldn’t for you. I can’t for him.”
Tears streamed down Mercy’s cheek.
“I will move on in time. It will probably take me years, I won’t lie, but you will ruin his life forever. Do you want to do to him what your father did to you? Abandon you? Not care about you?”
“Of course not,” Marc said defensively.
“Because if you choose them over us, that’s exactly what you’re doing.”
“It’s not a choice!” Marc grew upset.
“Yes it is! It’s not an easy choice, but it’s a damn choice. Are they really going to come to British Columbia to hunt you down? I doubt it. Stop with the damn excuses Marc. If you don’t want to be a part of our lives that fine. I’ll walk out and you won’t see us again. Is that what you want?”
Marc was silent as he composed himself. He wanted her to know the truth.
“You know I love you. And I do. I always will. And I want nothing more than to be a part of your life and be a father to our child. But you
know I can’t. I’m no good for you. Either of you. You’re better off without me.”
“
You’re just like your father Marc. Just like him.”
Mercy stood and walked toward the door.
“Mercy, wait.” Marc reached for her hand. “Don’t leave like this.”
“Leave like what?”
“Upset. I don’t want the last time I see you to be on bad terms.”
“You think this is going to end on good terms? You’re fucking out of it.”
“I’m sorry.” Marc leaned in without her consent and kissed her. Mercy pushed him back and slapped his face.
“Don’t.” She glared at him with utter hatred as more silent tears fell.
Marc felt torn between what he wanted, her, and what he was.
Mercy walked out the door without further ado. Marc watched her walk to her Jeep. She never looked back. Then she pulled out and was gone as quickly as she arrived.
“Fuck!” Marc said as he wiped a lamp off a stand the living room. It crashed onto the wooden floor into a hundred pieces. He then took out more frustration on the TV remote which crashed into a picture frame on the wall. He wanted to go after her. Tell her he wanted them. He wanted nothing more than them. But he couldn’t.
*****
Mercy
Mercy wiped the flowing tears from her face. She shouldn’t have expected any different. He’d chosen his life over her the last interlude, why would this be any different. She didn’t think he’d abandon his own child though. How wrong she was. Mercy was angry. Angry at him. Angry at the world.
“Asshole,” she mumbled aloud. She needed a punching bag to take out her anger.
The more she reflected on her interaction with Marc, the more she thought about the man she was talking to. It wasn’t the Marc she’d seen six months ago. This one wasn’t clean shaven. His hair was long and shaggy. He looked tired, jaded, and plain worn out. Even older. Had he started using drugs? What had happened to him? Maybe it was better he wasn’t a part of their lives. Better to accept it now and get it over with. The man she knew six months ago didn’t exist. In his place was the man that she talked to. A shell of Marc.
Mercy, Cora, and Kent worked on packing up Mercy’s belonging to ship to British Columbia. Just the essentials. The rest would be included for sale with the house.
“That’s the last of it,” Kent said taping a box.
“Thank you for helping me.”
“Anything for you.” Kent kissed her cheek. “The moving company will be here in a few hours. Why don’t you go back to the house and rest, you look exhausted. I’ll wait for the movers.”
Mercy was exhausted, emotionally and physically.
“Thank you Daddy.”
“Cora you go too. I’ll meet you back at the house tonight.”
Cora and Mercy went back to their house. Mercy laid down in the guest room, her mother covering her with a down comforter.
“Get some sleep.” Cora kissed her cheek and shut the door.
Mercy’s mind raced. With thoughts of Marc. Thoughts of her unborn child and their future together. Her child would have a happy upbringing as she had, but there would always be a missing piece she wouldn’t be able to fill.
The next morning Mercy, Kent, and Cora all headed out to Quesnel. The flight was horrible, sitting down in the tiny airplane seat for hours was hard on Mercy. If she could have a half dozen drinks it would have made it tolerable.
Once back to Quesnel, Mercy immediately went back home. Kent and Cora bought a house in Mercy’s neighborhood, only three houses down, so they wouldn’t be far when she needed a helping hand.
Mercy took off her prosthesis and sat on her bed. Lego jumped up with her and curled up by her leg.
“We’re going to be okay Lego. We’re going to be okay.” And they would be. Mercy had faith now. She could do this. She had to.
*****
Marc
After Mercy left, Marc’s mind couldn’t focus on anything else. He was going to be a father. No…he wouldn’t be a father, he would have fathered a child. Being a father entailed being a part of your child’s upbringing, something he would not be doing. God that pained him. The thought of never seeing his son tore him up inside, but he didn’t know what else he could do.
Mercy’s beautiful face ran through his mind. That glow they say pregnant women have, she had that. And she wanted him. She came back. And what had he done? Said no. Sent her away. He was doing her a favor in the long run. He was no good for her. No. He. Was. Not.
Marc’s phone rang.
“Need you at the warehouse at twelve. Pick up John and Hector at my house, they know the details.”
Marc wanted to tell Ace to fuck off, but instead said, “Okay.” Ace, his master, called, so what did he do? Bow down to his every fucking wish.
Marc looked at his watch. It was already eleven. He needed to get going to make it on time. Marc hopped into his Porsche, which Ace had made arrangements to get back, and headed to Brooklyn. Another day in paradise.
Marc, Hector, and John waited at the warehouse for the buyer. Marc felt inexplicably leery. Maybe it was the leftover emotion coursing through him from Mercy, but something just felt off.
A black Jaguar pulled into the open bay door of the warehouse and parked beside their Lincoln SUV. Three men stepped out of the Jag and walked to where the three of them stood.
“Where’s the coke?”
Hector passed Marc a bag. Marc placed the bag on the table, opened it up, and showed it to the leader of the crew. The man opened each bag sampling them and was satisfied.
“Where’s the money?” Marc motioned for the bag another man held. Before the money was offered, the third man snatched the bag from Marc’s grip. John pulled out his gun, but before he could even threaten him a shot rang out. Marc, who stupidly refused to carry a gun, ducked his head while Hector fired back. The three men were back to their vehicle and out of the lot in seconds. Marc knelt down to John’s side. He was dead. One shot to the temple.
“John?” Hector asked.
“He’s gone,” Marc said somberly.
“Fuck!” Hector growled. “Those pieces of shit are going to pay.”
Marc couldn’t take his eyes off John.
“We need to get out of here. Help me carry him,” Hector ordered. Marc didn’t move. “Boss, we need to get his body outta here before the cops show up.”
“Alright,” Marc said numbly. Marc helped him put John in the back of the SUV, they dumped him in an alley a few miles away from the warehouse, then made the somber ride back to Ace’s.
“Where’s John?” Ace asked immediately when they returned.
“They held us up. Took the drugs and shot John.”
Ace’s eyes grew wild.
“Where’s John?”
“In the alley on McPhetters Street. One shot to the temple,” Hector told Ace.
“What the fuck Marc? How the fuck did this happen?” Ace pushed his chest.
“It was your shitty ass deal Ace. You set it up.”
“And you just let them steal our shit and shoot John!”
“I didn’t let them do anything!”
“They’re going to pay.” Ace paced. “Those fuckers are going to get what’s coming to them. Hector, get Marc a gun.”
“No,” Marc said evenly.
“What?”
“I said, no.”
“You got John shot, you’re going to take out the fucker that did this.”
“I’m done Ace. Done. I’m not living this life anymore.” He didn’t want to die with the gang. He didn’t want to live the life he’d been living for nearly thirty years. He wanted more. He wanted to live period. Seeing John die before him made reality set in. What he wanted was Mercy. And his son. He didn’t want fucking Ace. He wasn’t willing to die for Ace. Or his drugs.
“There’s only one way out of the Tiburons, Marc. You know that.”
Marc turned his back and took a few steps toward the door.
“Marc! I’ll do it! Don’t tempt me!” Ace yelled furiously. Marc turned and walked back to Ace who had his .45 held pointed at the floor.
“Let me go, Ace. My debt to you has been paid.”
“You are indebted for life.”