Oertner 1

Michelle Oertner
Professor Maslonka
English 101.1N
22 September 2014
Surrounded by a sea of glitter and Greek letters, it was a normal Friday night at work as
far as everyone else was concerned. All the fraternities and sororities were getting ready for a
night of heavy drinking and it was my job to prepare the food that would protect their stomachs
through the night. It was not a glamorous job, but that is the price you pay when you work at a
Wawa sandwiched between a college campus and a bar. Normally this job was very easy.
Tonight was a different story, however. My nerves were shot and focus seemed unattainable. I
knew Jonathan would be coming in to see me shortly. He always came to visit me at work, every
night since we had started seeing each other a few weeks ago.
Two years ago, I ended a two year relationship with him, but I had never stopped loving
him. I do not know why I left. I have asked myself why a thousand times and found no answer.
He was perfect. He knew me, and could read me like an open book, even after two years apart.
Usually I loved that about him, but tonight it was terrifying.
As I struggled, trying to mentally prepare myself, I saw him coming through the door. As
soon as he saw me, his expression changed. The warm smile faded and was replaced with a
mixture of concern and fear. All it took was a split second of eye contact for him to know
something was very wrong.
I quickly ran behind the deli counter, trying to look busy and act normal. After about five
minutes, I sneaked a glance over my shoulder and realized he was still watching me, looking

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puzzled. I heard him whisper my name and turned to face him; hearing the worry in his voice I
knew I had to do something. Whats wrong? he asked quietly.
The response was automatic, I could not stop myself from blurting out, Nothing, Im
fine! with a huge, obviously fake, smile on my face. Wrong answer. He knows that means I am
far from being fine.
He stared at me for a minute, thinking, then repeated himself, Whats wrong, it was not
much of a question this time. It was more of a polite demand. Seeing my hesitation he quickly
added, And dont tell me youre fine. I know youre lying.
I tried arguing. I tried using the excuse that I was working and could not go outside, and I
certainly could not talk about it inside. When I realized he was not going to take no for an
answer, I yelled over to Jeff, Im going outside for a few minutes, come and get me if you need
anything. Jeff was my friend, my employee, and the closest thing I had to backup management
on the night shift. He also already knew the whole situation because I had asked him for advice
on how to handle telling Jonathan. I saw Jeff smile, trying to be encouraging, as I was pulled
outside.
Standing on the curb of the parking lot, I was still a head shorter than Jonathan and had to
look up to see him. For a few minutes we stood there in the damp, chilly breeze of a May night.
It was going to rain tonight; you could smell it in the air. The only sound was the occasional
burst of music when someone opened the door at the bar. Then he finally spoke, and it was the
saddest voice I had ever heard. I had only heard that voice once before, when he was begging me
not to leave, to give him one more chance to make it right. I could tell he thought this was going
to be some kind of a repeat. Are you going to tell me whats going on?

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I looked up, down, left, right, anywhere and everywhere except at him. Five times I tried
to speak, but nothing came out. I took a deep breath and finally managed to choke out the words,
Im pregnant. I glanced up into his eyes and saw them flash from relief, to confusion, to
disappointment. I knew he was thinking the same thing I was. We had only just gotten back
together, unofficially, about three weeks before. And that was just after I had ended a year long,
very violent relationship with another man.
Whose is it? His voice sounded dead; it barely even sounded like a question.
I dont know. I just found out. I havent been to the doctor yet to find out how far along
it is, the words came rushing out. It was nearly impossible to control the shaking in my voice.
We lapsed back into silence. My mind was racing to think of something, anything, to say
to break the tension.
After a moment, he put his hand on my stomach, and without looking up, half-smiled and
confessed, You know, for the past two weeks, every time I saw you, I had this urge to just put
my arms around you and hold your stomach. I couldnt figure out why, but I guess I kinda knew
something was different.
Wait, so, youre not mad? I stammered in disbelief.
Well of course I am. I mean we dont know whose it is. And if its not mine, well, that
asshole beat you and broke your back. He doesnt deserve you, or a child. And I cant forget that
he did that to you. I cant forget what he looks like.
I knew he was hinting at how he would feel if the child looked like my ex-boyfriend, and
at the idea of terminating the pregnancy. But I had always been adamant in my belief that I
would never be able to do that, and he knew. I could see the glimmer of happiness fading, his
anger growing. He was not angry at me, otherwise he would have just walked away. The fact that

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he was making an effort to stay gave me hope that maybe, just maybe, his anger at the situation
would pass. I could see that it was a bad situation. I was not stupid enough to really believe that
he would just be happy about it or accept it. I mean, we were not even technically dating. As all
these thoughts were racing through my head, I realized that we had lapsed into another silence.
Are you going to say anything? I asked, hesitantly.
I need to think, he answered, and with that he got into his car and drove off.
I drifted back inside the store and looking up at the clock I was shocked to realize that I
had not even been gone for fifteen minutes. It felt like much longer than that. I walked into the
office and, desperate for something to occupy my mind, I printed out the task lists for that
evening. I was not going to be able to handle much as far as talking to people tonight, that much
was clear. So I began working on all of the mind-numbing tasks that normally would have been
given to the regular crew members.
At long last, five oclock in the morning arrived. Everyone else had gone home a few
hours earlier, after our bar rush passed through, leaving Jeff and I to handle the stampede of
commuters coming in on their way to work. Two hours of a faceless blur of people demanding
our attention and insane amounts of breakfast sandwiches and coffees.
Seven oclock and it was time to go home. I clocked out and left, muttering have a nice
day to anyone I passed on my way to the door. Making my way outside into the bright, morning
sunlight, I got into my car and sat there, staring numbly at my phone. Jonathan was getting up for
work right about now. He always texted me when he woke up, same time every morning. Finally
I decided to text him Good morning.
I waited anxiously, unsure of whether or not he would reply. I hoped he would, but after
last night, I really did not expect him to want to talk to me. After some time, my phone buzzed

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and my heart jumped at the sound. Morning that was it, just morning. I could not decide if
this was better or worse than silence would have been.
Do you want to talk or should I leave you alone?
We can talk if u want
Can I see you when you get out of work? He only worked until noon on Saturdays, and I
did not have to be back at work that night so I was hoping we could spend the afternoon together.
Idk
Why not?
Idk I might be busy, he replied curtly.
Fighting the urge to cry out of sheer frustration, I drove myself back to the friends house
that I was staying at at the time and tried to force myself to fall asleep. Failing at sleep for about
an hour or so, I decided to send him one last message. One last attempt to get him to understand
how I was feeling and maybe open up about what he was thinking or feeling.
I know this is kind of a shitty situation. But I need you to know something. Im not going
to be happy if the babys not yours. And obviously I dont want a constant reminder of him
around, or of what he did to me. But I also know that I want you to be the father of this and every
child I ever have. I dont care about biology or genes. They mean nothing and you know as well
as I do that he will never come anywhere near me or the child. If I have to add this baby to my
PFA against him, I will. Then he can never legally come near either of us. Its not the childs
fault if his father is a monster. I need you to see that. Rereading my novel-length text a few
times, I hit send and closed my eyes. Comforting myself with the reminder that my child and I
would always be protected from my past by my Protection From Abuse order, I drifted off to a
restless sleep. Around noon, I woke up to the sound of my phone buzzing. Opening my eyes and

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seeing the flashing green light above the screen, I almost fell out of bed trying to grab it off the
nightstand.
Can I see u? That four word text sent me into a frenzy; panicking but hopeful at the
same time. I ran to the window and could not believe what I saw. He was really sitting outside, in
his car, waiting for me. I ran to throw on a jacket and my shoes, and practically flew down the
stairs to the front door. When I got out to his car, I stopped just outside the passenger door,
barely breathing. Get in, I could see the half-smile he was trying to hide. Pulling myself up
into the seat, I could not help but to stare at him. I could not figure out what was going to come
next.
It was a grey, cloudy day, and the ground was still wet from the drizzling rain we had
apparently had earlier that morning, probably while I was trying to sleep. The clouds were
rolling in, a bigger rainstorm was on the way, and the air just kept getting colder and damper. For
a moment the only sound was the low hum from the heat being pushed through the vents.
Finally, he spoke, Ive wanted a family with you for four years. Even after you left me, that was
all I wanted, I dreamed about it all the time. Now I have that chance, he paused, I know theres
a good chance that Im not the biological father, but I dont think that really matters anymore. I
want to be with you. I want to be the father. And a beautiful, smart girl once told me that its not
the babys fault where its genes came from. And I realized she was right. He leaned over and
kissed my cheek, I love you, Michelle, and before I could say anything, he leaned down
towards my stomach and whispered, And I love you, little one.