him and lost it and hit a telephone pole going sideways.
The Grand Prix was totaled. The steering column snapped off the headrest. Rico told me he woke up in the passenger seat. He didn't have his belt on or anything. There wasn't a cut on him, nothing. And right then and there he started to believe in Jesus.
Is that fanny? He started to believe Jesus was looking out for him that night and he started to read the Bible. Before he came to bed he'd get down on his knees and pray. Sunday he'd get dressed up and go to church alone, and I'd just watch him. We fought about it. I thought he'd gone crazy. That's what it's like, it completely changes you and nobody who hasn't been through it understands. I didn't. One Sunday when he was in church, I packed up my things and left. That's when I moved in with Joy and Garlyn. I didn't tell my mom I'd left. I was still waiting for her to call me.
33
I didn't do anything while I was pregnant with Gainey, no booze, no drugs, not even cigarettes. Maybe a drag here and there, that was it. All of a sudden I couldn't stand the taste of them.
All I did was eat. I drank whole gallons of milk. My belly button popped when I was just six months. We'd go to Beverly's Pancake Kitchen for Sunday brunch; walking in it was like Jack Sprat and his wife. Lamont would order the short stack while I'd have the chicken-in-the-rough and a Black Cow followed by a slice of 7-Up pie, and he wouldn't say a word.
I was worried that my drinking might do something to the baby, that my body was already too messed up from the speed. The first time I went to the doctor I was afraid she'd see the tracks on my arms. The pamphlets she gave me didn't help. I kept seeing pictures of babies with just skin where their eyes were supposed to go. I remembered those calves in the sideshow tent with six or seven legs. I'd have these dreams where the doctor pulled something that looked like a starfish out of me. I'd wake up screaming and Lamont would hold me.
He was so sweet, putting up with me. We had a water bed, and I couldn't get out of it by myself, so he'd help me. I couldn't get up from the couch without him giving me a hand. Anything I wanted, he'd get for me.
"You want something?" he'd say. "What do you need?"
When I first found out, I was worried. I wasn't sure Lamont wanted kids. We'd never really talked about it, and I didn't know,
with him being a foster kid. I didn't tell him the day I did the test. The plus turned pink and I threw the little plastic case into the sink so hard that it cracked. I waited until Friday, when we both got paid, and I made him a nice steak and a baked potato. I put a tablecloth on and made sure I looked good.
When I called him in from the TV, he stopped and looked at the table.
"What's the occasion?" he said.
"Nothing," I said, but he was looking at me like something was wrong, and I couldn't help it, I started to cry. I pushed past him into the bedroom and slammed the door.
"Marjorie!" he called. "What's wrong?"
"What do you think is wrong?" I said. "I'm pregnant."
I could hear his work boots on the floor in the hall but he didn't say anything. I lay there across the bed, waiting.
"Well?" I shouted. "Are we going to kill it?"
"That's up to you," he said.
"It's not up to me. It's yours too."
"Do you want to have it?" he said.
"What do you want to do?"
"Let me in," he said, and I got up and unlocked the door.
He laid down and put his arms around me and I knew we'd be okay.
Every night he rubbed my back, and when I couldn't get to sleep he'd stay up and talk with me. Sometimes I'd cry. My hormones were going all over.
"Are you happy?" I'd ask. "Are you sure?"
"I'm sure," he said.
And I was terrible to him. When I was crying and he asked me if I was all right, I screamed at him. I said he cared more about his car than he did about me. I took all the books I could find out of the library and made him look at the pictures. It was easy for him, I said; it only took guys five
The Grand Prix was totaled. The steering column snapped off the headrest. Rico told me he woke up in the passenger seat. He didn't have his belt on or anything. There wasn't a cut on him, nothing. And right then and there he started to believe in Jesus.
Is that fanny? He started to believe Jesus was looking out for him that night and he started to read the Bible. Before he came to bed he'd get down on his knees and pray. Sunday he'd get dressed up and go to church alone, and I'd just watch him. We fought about it. I thought he'd gone crazy. That's what it's like, it completely changes you and nobody who hasn't been through it understands. I didn't. One Sunday when he was in church, I packed up my things and left. That's when I moved in with Joy and Garlyn. I didn't tell my mom I'd left. I was still waiting for her to call me.
33
I didn't do anything while I was pregnant with Gainey, no booze, no drugs, not even cigarettes. Maybe a drag here and there, that was it. All of a sudden I couldn't stand the taste of them.
All I did was eat. I drank whole gallons of milk. My belly button popped when I was just six months. We'd go to Beverly's Pancake Kitchen for Sunday brunch; walking in it was like Jack Sprat and his wife. Lamont would order the short stack while I'd have the chicken-in-the-rough and a Black Cow followed by a slice of 7-Up pie, and he wouldn't say a word.
I was worried that my drinking might do something to the baby, that my body was already too messed up from the speed. The first time I went to the doctor I was afraid she'd see the tracks on my arms. The pamphlets she gave me didn't help. I kept seeing pictures of babies with just skin where their eyes were supposed to go. I remembered those calves in the sideshow tent with six or seven legs. I'd have these dreams where the doctor pulled something that looked like a starfish out of me. I'd wake up screaming and Lamont would hold me.
He was so sweet, putting up with me. We had a water bed, and I couldn't get out of it by myself, so he'd help me. I couldn't get up from the couch without him giving me a hand. Anything I wanted, he'd get for me.
"You want something?" he'd say. "What do you need?"
When I first found out, I was worried. I wasn't sure Lamont wanted kids. We'd never really talked about it, and I didn't know,
with him being a foster kid. I didn't tell him the day I did the test. The plus turned pink and I threw the little plastic case into the sink so hard that it cracked. I waited until Friday, when we both got paid, and I made him a nice steak and a baked potato. I put a tablecloth on and made sure I looked good.
When I called him in from the TV, he stopped and looked at the table.
"What's the occasion?" he said.
"Nothing," I said, but he was looking at me like something was wrong, and I couldn't help it, I started to cry. I pushed past him into the bedroom and slammed the door.
"Marjorie!" he called. "What's wrong?"
"What do you think is wrong?" I said. "I'm pregnant."
I could hear his work boots on the floor in the hall but he didn't say anything. I lay there across the bed, waiting.
"Well?" I shouted. "Are we going to kill it?"
"That's up to you," he said.
"It's not up to me. It's yours too."
"Do you want to have it?" he said.
"What do you want to do?"
"Let me in," he said, and I got up and unlocked the door.
He laid down and put his arms around me and I knew we'd be okay.
Every night he rubbed my back, and when I couldn't get to sleep he'd stay up and talk with me. Sometimes I'd cry. My hormones were going all over.
"Are you happy?" I'd ask. "Are you sure?"
"I'm sure," he said.
And I was terrible to him. When I was crying and he asked me if I was all right, I screamed at him. I said he cared more about his car than he did about me. I took all the books I could find out of the library and made him look at the pictures. It was easy for him, I said; it only took guys five
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