"You need help, Ronnie, professional help. I can recommend someone."
I knew Nathaniel saw a therapist, but I'd never heard him talk about it with anyone before, not like this.
"I've been with her for a few years. She's good. She's helped me a lot." His face was gentler than it had been.
Ronnie looked at him as if he were the snake and she were the helpless little bird.
He went to the corkboard above the phone. There were business cards pinned to it; important numbers, notes. He took one of the cards down. He walked back over to Ronnie and held it out to her. "If she can't take you, she'll know someone good who can."
Ronnie took the card carefully, just by the corner as if she were afraid it would bite. She gave him wide, frightened eyes, but she put the card in her jeans pocket. She let out a deep breath, and turned to me. "I'm sorry, Anita. I'm sorry about everything." She looked at Nathaniel, then back at me. "And now I'm going to leave the mess behind and let you guys clean it up like I've always done. I am sorry." And she walked out. We all waited until we heard the door close behind her.
The three of us stood for a few seconds in silence, waiting for the shock waves to settle. But of course there were other problems than just Ronnie's issues.
Micah turned to me, and said, "Are we in a mess?"
"I'm not sure yet," I said.
"But you think you're pregnant?" he said.
I nodded. "I missed last month. I'd planned on finding out for sure before I told anyone." I sighed and crossed my arms under my breasts. "I haven't bought a pregnancy test, because I wasn't sure how to take it without one of you finding out."
Nathaniel came to stand beside me, but to one side so he wouldn't block my view of Micah. "Anita, you shouldn't have to go through this alone. At
least one of us should be holding your hand while you wait for the little strip to turn colors."
I looked up at him. "You sound like you've done this before."
"Once; she wasn't sure it was mine, but I was the only friend she had to hold her hand."
"I thought I was your first girlfriend."
"She found out I'd never been with a girl, so she took care of it." His voice made it seem utterly matter-of-fact. "I wasn't very good at it, but she came up pregnant. It was probably one of her customers, but it could have been mine."
"Customers?" Micah made it a question.
"She was in the game, like I was then."
I knew "the game" meant she'd been a prostitute, but "the game" usually meant when he was on the street. He'd been off the street by sixteen. "How old were you?" I asked.
"Thirteen," he said.
The look on my face made him laugh. "Anita, I'd never been with a girl, but I'd seen a lot of men. She thought I should know what it's like to be with a girl. She was my friend, protected me sometimes, when she could."
"How old was she?" Micah asked.
"Fifteen."
"Jesus," I said.
He smiled, that gentle, almost condescending smile that always let me know what a sheltered life I'd led.
"And she got pregnant," Micah said, softly.
Nathaniel nodded. "The odds were that it wasn't mine. We had sex twice. Once so I could see if I liked it. The second time so I could get better at it." His face softened in a way I'd never seen before.
"You loved her," I said, voice as gentle as I could make it.
He nodded. "My first crush."
"What was her name?" Micah asked.
"Jeanie, her name was Jeanie."
I almost didn't ask, but it was the most he'd ever talked about that part of his life, so I asked. "What happened?"
"I held her hand while the test turned positive. Her pimp paid for an abortion. I went with her. Me, and another girl." He shrugged, and the soft light faded in his eyes. "She couldn't have kept it. I knew that. We all knew it." He looked suddenly sad, lost.
I wanted to take that lost look out of his eyes, so I hugged him, and he let me, and he hugged me back.
"What happened to Jeanie?" Micah asked.
He stiffened in my arms, and I knew then it would not be a good answer. "She died. She got into the wrong car one night, and the date killed her."
I hugged him tighter. "I am so sorry, Nathaniel."
He hugged me, one fierce, tight hug, then he moved back enough to see my face. "I was thirteen and she was fifteen. We were street hookers. We were both drug addicts. There wasn't going to be a baby." His eyes were so serious. "I'm twenty, and you're twenty-seven. We both have good jobs, money, a house. I've been clean for three, almost four years."
I pulled back from him. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying we have choices, Anita. Choices that I didn't have the last time."
My pulse was in my throat, threatening to choke me. "Even if I am—" and it took me two tries to say—"pregnant, I'm not sure I'm keeping it. You understand that, right?" My chest was so tight I could barely breathe.
"It's your body," he said. "I respect that. I'm just saying that we have more than one way to go here, that's all. It has to be mostly your choice."
"Yes," Micah said, "you're the woman, and like it or not, the final choice has to be yours."
"Your body, your choice," Nathaniel said, "but we need a pregnancy test. We need to know."
"We're running late now," I said. "You guys need to shower and we have to go to Jean-Claude's place."
"Can you really just go to the cocktail party with this hanging over us?" Nathaniel asked.
"I have to."
He shook his head. "It's fashionable to be late, and once he knows why, Jean-Claude won't mind."
"But...," I said.
"He's right," Micah said, "or am I the only one that thinks I would go crazy smiling and nodding tonight, and not knowing?"
I hugged myself tighter. "But what if it's positive, what if..." I couldn't even finish it.
"Then we'll deal with it," Micah said.
"Whatever happens, Anita, it will be okay. I promise," Nathaniel said.
It was my turn to look into his face and realize how young he was. We were only seven years apart in age, but they could be an important seven years. He promised it would be all right, but some promises you can't keep no matter how hard you try.
That tight feeling climbed up my throat and spilled out my eyes. I started
to cry, and couldn't stop it. Nathaniel wrapped his arms around me, held me against his body, and a moment later Micah moved in behind me. They both held me, while I cried my fear and confusion and anger at myself. Self-loathing didn't even begin to cover it.
When the crying slowed, and I could breathe without hiccuping, Nathaniel said, "I'll go out and get the test. Micah can shower while I'm gone. I should be back in time to clean up and we'll only be a little late."
I pushed myself away, enough to see his face. "But what if it's a yes, I mean how can I go to the party if it's a yes?"
Micah leaned over my shoulder, putting his face next to mine. "You don't want to know," he said, "because you'll find it easier to pretend tonight, if you don't know."
I nodded, my cheek sliding against his.
"I'll get the test," Nathaniel said, "and we'll use it later tonight, after the party. But we are getting one, or two, to take with us." For someone who was supposed to be a submissive his voice held no compromise. It was simple fact.
"What if someone finds it in our stuff?" I asked.
"Anita, you're going to have to tell Jean-Claude and Asher sometime," Nathaniel said.
"Only if it's positive," I said.
He gave me a look, but nodded. "Okay, only if it's positive."
Positive. It seemed like such the wrong word. If I was pregnant it was definitely a negative. A really big, scary negative.