All There Is

12.Hannah

Garbage// Only Happy When It Rains

Walking to my parents' front door is excruciating. The worst walk of shame in history. Except I'm not ashamed. I love Matt, still. This baby is the result. I can't regret the life inside of me, even if I have to do it alone.

Something deep in my soul reassures me that I won't have to. I don't want to latch onto that feeling. The disappointment would kill me.

I don't knock as I use my key to enter. They aren't expecting me home today, a Monday. I only have two classes on Mondays, so the timing worked out. After a solid week of no responses from Matt, and a mental breakdown on the phone with Jeff, I decided I couldn't keep this to myself anymore. If Matt won't talk to me, he loses the privilege of finding out before anyone else. He lost that privilege when he dumped me at his dad's funeral.

Indefinitely.

That word isn't holding the same amount of hope as it did before. I held on to that word like a lifeline in the beginning. Now, seven weeks later, it feels like a cruel joke. The universe is infinite. 'Indefinitely' is a relative term in that context.

"Mom?" My stomach is up in my throat as I call her name. Once she knows I'm here, the questions will start. I have no excuse to be here other than the bomb I'm about to drop.

I shake myself. I can't think of this baby that way. I'm confident my parents will be supportive, but I'm worried they will be disappointed. That will hurt.

"In the kitchen. Where else would I be?" Her responding tone is lighthearted. She spends the majority of her day in the kitchen which has become a family joke.

I step in to find my mom and Sawyer elbow deep in dough.

"Biscuits?" I pull out a barstool at the end of the island.

"You would be correct. I've got an Italian stew simmering. Buttermilk biscuits are Sawyer's favorite and they pair nicely. Are you staying for dinner?"

Good question. I'm not sure I'd keep it down. "Maybe. We'll see." My nerves are raw. I don't know how to say it. I should wait until my dad is with us, but I don't know how long I can sit here pretending that my world didn't suddenly change forever.

"What brings you home today?" The question is so tame and yet so charged with the truth. I almost burst into tears.

"Well...we need to talk." Step one. Now I have to follow through. No chickening out.

"Sounds serious." Mom's tone has changed already.

"Yeah." I sit up straight and force myself to look directly at my mom. The words feel like sandpaper, but I push them out anyway. "I'm pregnant."

Mom stops kneading the dough. She looks at me. "Oh, honey."

Two words. But they ignite the tears. Those two words held no judgement, no disappointment, but were full of love and concern. She's worried for me, but not angry with me. The relief is immediate.

"Hang on, Hannah. I've got to wash the dough off my hands and then I can hold my baby."

More tears. I'm sobbing now. I worry about Sawyer because emotions can confuse her, so I look up to check that she's okay. Mom is helping her wash up. Then she puts the nose cancelling headphones on her and sits her at the table with a sketchpad. Two seconds later I'm wrapped up in a hug.

"Talk to me, honey."

"I haven't told Matt yet. He won't answer any of my calls or texts. I'm going to have to hunt him down and force him to listen to me."