Anything but Normal - Melody Carlson [58]
“Apparently not seriously enough.”
“This just seems impossible, Sophie. How do you even know for sure that you’re really pregnant?”
“I’ve taken some pregnancy tests.”
Mom’s face paled. “And?”
“And they were positive.” Sophie felt irritated. Why was Mom being so dense about this? Did she think it made this any easier?
“But maybe they were wrong.”
“No, I have all the symptoms too.”
“But it could be something—”
“Mom!” Sophie shouted. “I am pregnant. Okay?”
“No, Sophie. It is not okay. It is not okay for you to be pregnant, do you understand?”
“What are you saying?”
“Why?” Tears ran down Mom’s face. “Why did you go and ruin your life like this? Why? You’re not that kind of girl, Sophie. You’ve never been that kind of girl. Why did you do this?”
“I didn’t do it on purpose.”
“Who?” Mom demanded. “Who is the father?”
“Does it matter?”
“Of course it matters. The father is 50 percent responsible too.”
“That’s a statistic, Mom, not a reality.”
“I don’t know how you let this happen, Sophie. What were you thinking?”
“Obviously I wasn’t thinking.”
“But you’re too smart to do this. Too smart to ruin your life like this.”
“Intelligence has nothing to do with fertility.”
“But I didn’t even know you were sexually active.”
“Did you think I was going to tell you?”
Mom fished a rumpled tissue from her sweater pocket and wiped her tears. “I just don’t understand. I do not understand. You had a purity pledge. I thought you were such a good girl.”
“Mom.” Sophie’s voice softened. “I’m really, really sorry.” She was crying now too. “I hate that I’ve done this to you. And to Dad.”
“Dad!” Mom looked at the clock. “What are we going to do about your dad, Sophie?”
“Besides tell him?”
“He’s going to have a cow.”
“I know.”
“Are you absolutely, 100 percent sure that you’re really pregnant?”
“I’m not making it up.”
“When was your last period?”
“Early August.”
Mom looked totally stunned. “Early August?”
Sophie just nodded.
“How long have you known you were pregnant?”
“Since early September.”
“And you never told me?” Mom looked truly hurt.
“I never told anyone.”
“So you’re”—Mom counted on her fingers—“five months along?”
“Not quite.”
“Oh, Sophie.”
“I really am sorry, Mom. I know how disappointed you must be. I know I’ve hurt you. I hope you’ll be able to forgive—”
“Honey, I’m home,” her dad’s voice boomed. Then he was in the kitchen. Before he peeled off his jacket, his cheerful demeanor vanished. “What’s wrong?” he demanded.
They said nothing, just sat there.
“Bart?” he exclaimed. “Something’s happened to Bart?”
“No.” Mom shook her head. “Something’s happened to Sophie.”
He looked confused. “But she’s sitting right here. What’s happened?”
“Dad.” Sophie took a deep breath. “I’m really, really sorry to tell you this. I hope you’ll be able to forgive me—”
“What?” His eyes widened with fear. “What did you do? Trouble at school? With the law?”
“I wish.” Sophie glanced at Mom for support.
“Just plain trouble,” Mom muttered.
“What?” Dad looked irritated. “Will someone please tell me what the heck is going on here?”
“I’m pregnant, Dad.”
His face froze, and he pulled out a chair and sank down into it.
“I’m really sorry to disappoint—”
“You can’t be pregnant!”
“She is, Bud.”
“But she made that whole abstinence pledge.” He wouldn’t even look at her. He pounded his fist on the table. “This is that stupid church’s fault. They set girls up to think they’re better than everyone else, and then they fall down just the same—”
“The church had nothing to do with it,” Mom said.
“Says you!”
Suddenly her parents were fighting about it, acting as if she wasn’t even in the room. Dad blamed Mom for not having taken Sophie in for some kind of birth control. Mom blamed Dad for not having been involved in the purity party that Pastor Vincent had put together. As they screamed and yelled, Sophie slipped out of the kitchen and up to her room. She wished she were dead.
As the yelling continued, Sophie curled up on her bed, pulled her pillow over her head to muffle the noise,