Pregnant Pause (14 page)

The rest of the skits take forever and a day to get through. All I want to do is get out of there and go wring Lam's neck, but I have to endure the rest of the "fun" and stand around afterward eating carrot sticks with the campers, pretending that it was all so funny.

I notice the kids in my cabin, my kids, the ones I thought liked me and my stories, are staying way the hell away from me, and when one of them catches my eye, she looks all sheepish and guilty and turns away again. Yeah, they should feel guilty. How mean can you get? And who was the ringleader of this little joke on me—hmm, I wonder? I give Ashley Wilson bitch-eyes from across the room, and at least she has the decency to look, well, I don't know what, but at least not triumphant.

My face hurts from pasting on my smile for so long. I walk around with my carrot sticks, complimenting kids on their skits and avoiding the girls from my cabin. Finally, the night is over, but before I can escape and go find Lam, Leo comes up to me and says the ILs need to see me in their cabin, pronto!

"Me? Doesn't she mean Lam? Am I going to get blamed for this, too?" I say to Leo. "It's not my fault that the kids all know I'm lying when I say I'm twenty. What a dumb-ass idea that was in the first place. Who were we kidding? And it's not my fault if Lam is cheating on me. Is he cheating on me? Did you know?"

"No. I never pay any attention to gossip."

"So everyone was gossiping about me? Great! Just great!"

"Elly, the Lothrops said pronto. You'd better go talk to them."

"Yeah, yeah." I hate that I have to go talk to the ILs. Whatever is going on should be between me and Lam, not me and them. Man, what a farce!

Leo gives me a hug. "I'm on your side, El. Let me know if you want me to do anything, okay?" He stares into my eyes. "I mean it—anything, talk to Lam, punch his lights out, whatever. Okay?"

I laugh and hug him back. "Yeah, thanks, Leo. You're the best."

On my way to the cabin I see the FIL heading down toward the parking lot with that old lady's wheelchair. I suppose he carried the old bat down first and she's waiting in a car somewhere. The FIL sees me and calls out. "Go on to the cabin. I've got to carry this chair down. I'll be back in a minute."

I do as he says and step inside to find I'm the only one there, besides Rufus, who's sleeping curled up in the empty fruit bowl, so I have to wait. I look around, and there are all these pictures of Lam on the wall—Lam with his rifle and a dead deer, Lam on his bike, Lam in the lake, Lam rowing a boat, Lam holding up his lifeguard patches, Lam in the lifeguard chair, Lam surrounded by younger campers, Lam's school picture at five, six, seven, and so on—Lam, Lam, Lam, precious, only-child Lam. It's a whole wall of Lam. No way can this interview go well for me. I consider just chucking it and going on to my cabin. I thought they wanted to see me pronto, so where is everybody? Where's the MIL? And why should I have to put up with the MIL accusing me of I-don't-know-what? Before I can get up the guts to really take off, in she walks,
clomp, clomp, clomp,
in her leather hiking boots and green shorts and plaid flannel shirt.

"Have a seat," the MIL says without even a hello. She indicates one of the kitchen table chairs, so I pull it out and sit. Big mistake, 'cause she stays standing.

"So," she says, leaning her fists on the table. "What was that all about?"

"Where's Lam? And—and Gren?" I ask instead of answering her. I mean, if I'm going to be tossed in the soup, then I'm going to make sure they get tossed in with me.

"I asked you a question," she says, and I think to say, "And I asked you one," but I figure that's not a good idea.

I just look down at my belly. It's awful quiet inside me and I figure the poor baby, so close to coming out, has gone into hiding until this ordeal is over. I clasp my hands over it protectively.

"And haven't I told you before not to wear that silly dress? You look like a pumpkin. Don't you
know
you're being made fun of?"

I lift my head and I can't help it, tears fill my eyes. "Well, I do now," I say. Then I really cry. The tears just roll down my face and my nose is runny, so I feel like a slobbering mess, but who cares? "I thought my cabin liked me. They acted like they liked me. Everybody acted like they liked me." I take the sleeve of my camp shirt and wipe my face on it.

"This isn't about whether or not they like you. You're not here to win a popularity contest," she says, but more softly this time, like she might actually care that my feelings are hurt.

She grabs a couple of napkins out of the napkin holder and pushes them toward me. "Use this, not your shirt."

"Nothing else fits," I say, thinking about my dress. It's true. In the last few weeks I feel like my body has doubled in size. This ugly dress, because it's the newest, is the only one that still fits. I shake my head. I can't believe this is me. I love clothes. I love shoes. I love shopping. I wouldn't be caught dead in what I have on if I were my normal self. I'm wearing a pair of ancient cheerleading oxfords that I found in the lost-and-found box here.
Ugly!
They have to be like fifty years old, no kidding, but they fit my swollen feet exactly.

"Well, your next day off, go into town and find something else."

I don't have any money to "find something else," but I figure now is not the time to remind her that she doesn't pay me one red cent. And maybe she's forgotten, but I'm less than four weeks away from my due date. Like hell I'm going to buy some ugly dress just to last me three and a half more weeks. And who cares now, anyway? I'm already the camp laughingstock.

I'm saved from having to say anything by Lam's and the FIL's entrance. The FIL has Lam by the back of his neck. Looks like I'm not the only one who wants to wring it.

"Found him in the boathouse with Gren. I told her we'd talk to her in the morning."

Lam's eyes dart in my direction, then shift to the floor.

I push back in my chair and struggle to my feet.

"Would you care to explain what you think you were doing?" the MIL asks Lam.

Lam lifts his head, and he's got the same steely look in his eyes that I've seen in his mother's. "I think I was gettin' stoned and screwin' Gren, that's what I think I was doing."

The FIL shakes Lam's shoulders and his head bobbles back and forth. "Don't you sass your mother. Do you think this is funny? Do you think you're being cute? What's gotten into you? You're married, son. And you've put us in a very awkward position. Your grandmother was here tonight. She saw the skit, and don't think she's too old to know what it was all about. You and Gren should both be fired for this, but we can't fire you, and so we can't fire Gren. Don't you realize we've got young children here?"

"Doesn't that mean anything to the three of you?" the MIL says, glaring at me.

I force myself to remember what the MIL had just said—something about children.

"Hey," I say. "Don't try to pin this on me. I'm not the one who cheated, and before you can blame me for not being able to keep my man satisfied, which I'm sure is what you're about to do, because everything is always
my
fault, let me tell you, you're the one who's kept us apart all summer. You're the one making Lam work extra hours at night on camp guard duty..."

"Elly..." Lam interrupts, but I ignore him.

"And you're the one who assigned the junior lifesaving classes during dinner."

"Elly..." Lam tries again.

"And you're the one who assigned me the job of counselor to cabin seven, so you're the one who's been keeping us apart. We don't even get the same day off each week!"

I look at Lam, and he's hanging his head and shaking it. The ILs are both glaring at Lam now.

"What?" I say.

"Lifesaving classes are first thing in the morning," the MIL says, still with her eyes on Lam. "Not during dinner. And we have
not
assigned any extra guard duty."

"Lam?" I say.

He looks at me and shrugs. "Okay. Okay. Come on. I just needed some space. I got scared. I don't know. Hell."

"But you had dinner after the lifesaving classes. And Jen was helping you, wasn't she? Or were you sleeping with her, too?" Before he can answer, I turn to the MIL. "Why didn't you notice he and Jen and Gren were missing from dinner if he wasn't teaching lifesaving?"

"Jen was eating out front with the campers," the FIL says, "and we didn't notice that Lam and Gren were missing because we assumed they were eating in the back with you."

"Lam?" I say again.

He glares at me. "What? What do you want me to say? It's nothing serious. I just—well, you're pregnant and you won't—you know, so I just wanted to have some fun. I just wanted to—to—You guys are always on my case." He looks from one parent to the other. "And I'm stuck doing this crap job for peanuts, as if you don't think I can get a real job in the real world. Maybe I don't want to grow up to be a fifty-year-old lifeguard, ever think of that? How are Elly and I supposed to live on what you pay me? You don't even pay her, as if the cabin and the crappy furniture are supposed to be her payment, so it's like we're each working for half the pay. I want my own life. I want—I want to be my own man. I want to be free. So just leave me alone, already."

"But you're not free, and you're not a child anymore, Lam," the MIL says. "You're eighteen. You have responsibilities. You've created a child with this girl, and Lord help you, neither one of you are ready to care for it, but until you both decide what you plan to do with the baby, and with your lives, you're to take the responsibility of your marriage and this child seriously. As for working here at this camp, we were hoping you'd someday take over. You know that. We want you to have it and to run it."

Lam takes a deep breath and lets it out. I can hear the irritation in his sigh.

"Yeah, yeah, okay, okay. I know." He glances at me. "Sorry, Elly. I'm a shit husband, and a shit son. What else is new?"

I step away from the table and go stand in front of Lam. "You know what, just saying 'I'm sorry, and I'm a shit,' and thinking that that's all you have to do to let yourself off the hook is such crap."

Okay, I know, I do this, too. Lam and I are a lot alike, but seeing everything from this new perspective, I see how lame it is to just excuse yourself by dumping on yourself.

"You think if you just knock yourself down and get us all to dump on you, then you're in the clear," I say. "Well, forget it! You're not. Either we decide we're married or not. If not, then I'm getting the hell outta here and getting on the next flight to California."

"You can't fly at this late date. You're due in three weeks," the MIL says.

"Yeah? Well, I'm glad someone remembers that!"

I don't even know what I'm saying. I want to pummel Lam. I want to take his head off his neck and use it as a kickball.

There's this lull in the discussion, and we're all just standing there looking at one another, and nobody's saying anything for a really long time. It starts to get really uncomfortable, so I say, "Lam and I have lots to talk over. It's up to us to decide if we want to be married or not, and yeah, you're right, we're not ready for a kid with the way things are between us right now, but that train's already left the station, so we have to just deal. Just us. Me and Lam, not me and Lam and you two, and my parents, and Sarah and Robby. I'm going back to cabin seven now. Lam, I'll talk to you tomorrow morning during breakfast. I'll come over to our cabin. Will you be there?"

Lam spreads his palms to the ceiling. "Where else?"

I can think of a couple of where elses, but I just leave, and thankfully, nobody calls me back.

I DREAD GOING back to the cabin. Now that I know the girls all hate me and that they've been making fun of me all this time, I feel totally embarrassed. I don't want to go, and I especially don't want to see that Ashley Wilson. Doesn't she just think she's so great, now? I've been done in by an eleven-year-old.

It's really quiet when I get up to the cabin, and I wonder if they're even in there. Usually I can hear the girls laughing and talking a mile away. Then I think that maybe they're inside planning to jump out and yell, "Surprise!" or "Ha! Ha!" or something. I hate this camp. I really, really do. And if by some miracle I ever stay married to Lam, I'm sure as hell not going to run this place with him. I've decided I hate kids. All of them. They're mean, and sneaky, and cruel, and a royal pain in the ass.

I open the door of the cabin, and it's dark inside. I can see lumps in each of the beds, so I know the girls are all in here. "I know you're here," I say. "Do you think you're hiding or something? I can see you all."

"We're trying to be good," comes a voice right beside me.

I look down at my bed, and Ashley Wilson is sitting on it.
On my bed!
She's got nerve.

"Well, you must feel really proud of yourself," I say. "You looked just like me. And stupid me, am I the only one in the whole camp who didn't know what Lam was doing behind my back? You really got me good; that's for sure."

"We didn't know how else to tell you," this meek voice that sounds like Banner's says.

"So you put it in a skit where everyone can see it?"

"Like you said, you were like the only one who didn't know," Ashley Wilson says.

"Yeah," all the other girls chime in.

"We hated that he was sneaking around on you. It's not right. You're married and pregnant and everything," Ashley Ryan says.

The girls are all climbing out of their beds and coming into the alcove, where I'm standing. They gather around me, and I feel a little crowded in. The baby kicks and moves around inside me. I can feel it, the stirring of life. I put my hand on my belly.

Banner takes my other hand. "We all really like you. We think you're one of the best counselors in the whole camp. You're honest, and we always know where we stand with you. It's nice."

"Oh. Well..." I feel the tears starting up again. They like me. They like me. I'm surprised and touched, and I think that I really need to start being a better counselor to them, especially if they think I'm so great.