Uneaten Chicken

Uneaten Chicken,A Failed Corn Souffle,Green Beans,and Two Glasses of Water

A short story by Adam ScheinbergStory composed Spring 1998

She glanced across the table at me, and all I could see in those deep eyes was someeloquent torture she wasn’t expressing. She was trying to spare me, I guessed, from someoutpour of emotion she may have supposed would only confuse me. It is amazing how, incertain moments, one is able to recognize that the rest of their life has changed profoundly inthe span of one second. “Pregnant?” I asked again, is disbelief, “but I always – always – use a condom.” “I know,” she said, “but they don’t always work.” “I know, I know,” I snapped, still in thought. “What about the pill?! I thought youwere on the pill.” “Sam, you know I’m not on the pill. You know that.” “I know, I know,” The familiarity of her short blond hair and beautiful blue eyes was no comfort to methen, there was a new awkwardness. I felt almost ashamed. She tossed her hair sharply tothe side in an effort to catch a few of the locks behind her ear. I watched as some of herbangs rested comfortably on her delicate pinna, but a few stubborn strands swung back in frontof her eyes. Though I usually found this sexy, right then it was almost annoying.She was looking downward, and she raised her eyes to look up at me like an apologeticchild. Through a forced white smile, she looked almost angelic, I remember even thinking atprecisely that moment that I could muster the strength to survive this trial. “I don’t know if I want to have this baby, Sam. I mean, I’m not really prepared. And Idon’t know what type of parent I’ll make, but…” Interrupting, I said, “Natalie, Natalie…I don’t even know what to think, but I will standby you no matter what you choose. Think about what type of parents

we’ll

make.” In those tense moments, one can amaze oneself with the courage, strength, and feardemonstrated – or lack thereof. Again, her blond locks, unbalanced on her ear, slipped smoothly in front of her eyes.