It's My Life - Melody Carlson [14]
Now, talk about your self-sacrificing martyrs! This, to me, takes the cake! So I said, “But how's that going to make you feel, Beanie? I mean, do you really want to see Zach sitting there in church or youth group?”
“I don't know…but maybe he needs it, Cate. I mean, who knows, he could really be hurting too.”
I thought, yeah, sure, but said nothing.
She continued. “I honestly believe he should know about the baby; it's his right as the father. I'm just afraid that I can't do it.”
Then something in my gut tells me what was coming next. Somehow, I just knew that, as Beanie's best friend, it was my responsibility to offer to do this gruesome and loathsome task. I mean, if she was willing to sit in youth group with the selfish jerk, who was I to refuse to go and tell him. “Okay,” I finally said. “How abut if I go tell him?”
“Oh, would you?”
I laughed without humor. “Of course, you silly ninny, did you really think I wouldn't?” Then I thought of something else. “Hey, Beanie, how about if we make a deal?”
“Sure. What is it?”
“Okay, if I go and talk to Zach, then you must promise me you'll come on the Mexico trip.”
I heard her exhale deeply, a good sign; she was seriously considering my proposal. “Okay, it's a deal, Cate. But you have to report back to me on every single thing that Zach says about the baby and everything. And I want you to be totally honest about it. Deal?”
“Deal.”
So now I'm stuck with the unfortunate task of talking to a guy that I'd just as soon run over with my car–except that might get my car all messed up and bloody. And let me tell you, Zach Streeter is NOT worth messing up my car for!
DEAR GOD, PLEASE FORGIVE ME FOR MY HATEFUL HEART TOWARD ZACH STREETER. I'M SURE HE'S YOUR CHILD AND EVERYTHING, BUT I REALLY DO DESPISE WHAT HE DID TO BEANIE. TALKING TO HIM IS ABOUT THE LAST THING ON EARTH I WANT TO DO RIGHT NOW OR EVER. BUT SINCE I MADE A DEAL WITH BEANIE, I GUESS I'LL HAVE TO GO THROUGH WITH IT. BUT MAYBE YOU COULD HELP ME TO BE JUST A LITTLE LESS HOSTILE TOWARD HIM. OR AT LEAST NOT RAISE A FIST OR CARRY A WEAPON OR ANYTHING VIOLENT LIKE THAT. AMEN!
Wednesday, August 1 (you just never know…)
All day at work, I kept wondering how I was going to force myself to go and talk to Zach. I thought about swinging by the park on my lunch break, but then there'd be all these little kids around, and I'm afraid I might say something shocking around them, and it's not their fault. So, I waited until after work, came home, took a cold shower, then called Zach's house, hoping he wouldn't be home. But guess who answers the phone on the very first ring? So, I asked him if he had a minute to talk, and he said someone else needed to use the phone right now. Then, fighting the urge to say fine and just hang up, I asked if he could meet me somewhere to talk. And he agreed to meet at the coffee shop by the high school.
So I drove over, telling myself that I wouldn't chew his head off or say anything hateful or mean, that I would be cool and calm. And the strangest thing is, when I saw him sitting in the coffee shop, a lot of my anger just sort of melted away. I mean, he looked so totally down and out–a beaten man, really. Not at all like the shining track star, on-top-of the-world Zach that I remembered from just a couple months ago. No, tonight he looked like he was several days past a shave, his hair was stringy and dirty, his clothes looked like he'd slept in them for weeks, and his eyes–oh man, his eyes. I think it was his eyes that really got to me. They had that exact same look that I'd seen in Beanie's–just sort of flat and dead. It was totally weird.
It was like the wind had been taken right out of my sails (sorry about the cliché, but that's just what it felt like), and I didn't even know what to say to him. I bought us each a cup of coffee, and he didn't object, then we sat down together and I asked how he was doing.