Chapter Text
The phone rang one evening shortly after Sodapop got off from work. Darry would be home soon with groceries for the night, and Ponyboy would be a little later due to track practice. He picked up the phone, expecting to hear Two-Bit on the other end asking if there was going to be a freshly baked chocolate cake that night. But instead, a girl started speaking.
“May I speak to Sodapop Curtis?”
“This is Soda.” He didn’t recognize the voice. Who would be calling for him?
A deep breath and a sniffle came from the other end of the line. “Okay. Um, my name is Connie Breyers, and I’m—I was a friend of Sandy’s. She said you used to be her boyfriend?”
Soda’s heart still clenched at the thought. It had been about a year and a half since she’d left for Florida to live with her grandmother. It had been the worst week of his life. Ponyboy had run off, and Soda wasn’t even sure he was alive. Then Sandy had broken up with Soda, saying she was pregnant with another man’s baby.
Soda had told her it didn’t matter. Of course, it had felt like his heart had shattered, but he still loved her. He’d always love her, that’s what he said. He wanted to marry her. He begged her to let him help raise the baby.
But she’d looked at him with cold eyes. Those kind eyes he’d fallen in love with. It was the first and only time she’d ever looked at him that way.
It had destroyed him. He’d never loved another girl since.
“Yeah,” Soda said, his voice an embarrassing croak.
“I hate to be the one to say this, but… Sandy and her grandmother got in a car accident two days ago. They—They died, Sodapop. They died on impact. I’m so sorry.”
Soda choked on his own breath. Died. Dead. Sandy was dead.
Why did it have to be that way? Why did it have to be in a car? Tears sprang to his eyes and fell down his face. His heart ached for his parents all over again.
And now Sandy. His Sandy. His poor Sandy.
Soda swallowed back a sob. He could mourn later. He had questions now. “Why—Why are you telling me this?”
The girl on the other end was crying, too. Her breath hitched every few words. “She told—me if anything ever—-ever ha—happened to her, you needed to know. Because… her baby, Sodapop. It’s yours.”
He nearly dropped the phone. His heart sank to his feet. “What?” He couldn’t have heard her right. That baby was someone else’s. That was why Sandy left.
Oh. He almost laughed, despite the tears tracking down his cheeks. Connie hadn’t meant that. Sandy must have wanted Soda to know since she’d remembered what he told her. That he wanted to raise the kid with her. But that didn’t make sense now. He couldn’t take care of someone else’s baby, not even if he wanted to. But that didn’t make sense either. Why would she care? What was happening?
“The baby,” Connie repeated. “She lied to you, Soda. Her family disowned her when they found out she was pregnant. They told her never to tell you, to lie. Then they sent her here to Florida. Her grandmother never wanted you in the picture, either. But Sandy told me if anything ever happened to her, she wanted you to have full custody of your child.”
Soda’s denial was turning quickly to panic. “No, no. That’s not true. I—We were safe. We were always safe. It can’t be mine. It can’t. She would’ve told me, I know it.”
“He is yours, Sodapop,” Connie said gently. “Sandy never slept with anyone but you.”
Soda thought he might throw up. He. A boy. He had a son. “You’re sure? I need you to be sure.”
“I’m sure.”
“Oh, glory…” Soda slumped to the floor, the coiled phone cord stretching. “Uh… where is he? What’s his name?”
“Raymond. We call him Ray. He’s nine months old. I have him with my family now. Social services will get involved soon. But if you want him, you need to come down here. You’ll need to be approved to have custody of him, prove you can care for him well and all that, but Sandy put it in writing that she wanted you to have him. That’s good. It will help you.”
“And—And if I don’t?” Soda’s hand shook. He already knew.
“Then he’ll go into the system,” Connie said. “I—I know this must be shocking, and you’ll have things to talk over with your brothers. Sandy knew you were in a tight spot, too. Do you wanna call me back tomorrow?”
“Please,” Soda choked out.
“Okay.” She gave him her number. “Again, I’m so sorry. That was so much to spring on you at once. I’m sorry you couldn’t know about Ray earlier.”
“I understand,” he murmured. “I’ll call tomorrow. I promise. Keep him close for me until then?”
“Of course.”
The line went dead.
The phone fell from Soda’s hand and hung from the receiver. He buried his face in his hands and cried. He cried for Sandy, for himself, for his son.
His son. The words felt so surreal. He was eighteen years old. He wasn’t supposed to have a baby. Not alone. Never alone. Oh, poor Sandy. How could she stand it? She must have felt so alone. He would have, in her shoes.
The thing that hurt most of all was that she really would’ve married him. She had always loved him. That baby had always been his. They could’ve been a family. If she’d stayed in Tulsa, she wouldn’t be dead. He could’ve seen his baby born. Rubbed her swollen ankles, kissed her good night, held her hand through contractions, told her every day how much he loved her and their son.
A life he could never have now. The love of his life was dead, and she’d left him a whole child.
Soda furiously scrubbed the tears from his face. He’d cried enough. He had a responsibility now. He had to get Ray. There was no other choice. He needed that baby. He wouldn’t lose his son, too.
He jumped as the door opened. “Got some pasta from the store,” Darry announced. “Can you put on some water to—” He froze when he saw his brother on the floor, tears streaking his face. “Little buddy.” His voice softened. He dropped the grocery bag and knelt next to Soda, his entire demeanor shifting. Gentler. Ready to comfort him. “What happened? What’s wrong?”
Soda swallowed hard. His older brother wouldn’t be wearing that kind, concerned expression for long. “Darry?” His lip trembled as he fought to keep composure. “I have to tell you something.” His stomach roiled. “I have a baby.”
His brother’s eyes flashed with alarm. “What?”
Soda curled his arms around his legs. “Um—Um, you know when Sandy left me? Said she was pregnant with some—someone else’s baby?” Soda felt warm tears spilling down his cheeks again. “She lied. Her family didn’t want me to know. They disowned her and sent her away. But it was mine.” His breath hitched. “He is mine.”
“Oh, glory, Soda, I don’t…” Darry ran a hand over his face, thoughts clearly running through his mind a mile a minute.
“I swear we were safe, Dar, I swear,” Soda rambled, his face flaming. “You know I’m not that kind of reckless. I know how tight of a situation we’re in.” He sobbed. “But now it’s worse, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Darry.”
“Okay. You’re okay, we’ll figure this out.”
“No!” Soda yelped, sick with what he was about to put his brother through. Darry didn’t deserve this. Darry had thrown his whole life away for his little brothers. He didn’t deserve this burden, too. But Soda had to. He couldn’t leave his baby. “You don’t understand. Sandy is dead.”
Darry’s mouth fell open, his eyes filling with horror. Soda knew it wasn’t in grief over Sandy. No, Darry knew exactly what Soda was telling him. “No. Soda, no. We can’t. I—I can’t.”
“Darry.” The name came out as a sob, a plea. It sounded scarily like when Soda had begged Sandy last year. “She died in a car accident. A car, Darry. Just two days ago.”
Darry’s expression crumpled with fresh grief.
Soda kept going. “Her friend called me. Sandy told her if anything ever happened to her, she wanted me to have custody. It’s in writing. I can do it. I’ll get an attorney, and the state can approve me, and I’ll go get him—”
“No!” Darry stood up, appalled. Shock and anger flooded his gaze. “We are not taking in another kid. A baby, no less. Are you even hearing yourself? You’re eighteen years old. Eighteen! You can’t take care of a baby.”
Soda pushed himself to his feet. “I can! She was eighteen, too. She had to take care of him. Neither of us chose this. But everything’s changed, and now I have to!”
Darry looked like he was trying his best to school his expression. When he spoke again, his voice was almost level. “You don’t have to, kiddo. Look, I—I’m so sorry this happened to you. I know you didn’t mean for this to happen. I know. I’m not mad at you. I’m sorry she’s gone. I’m sorry her family did that to her. I’m sorry they kept her from you. And I’m damn sorry about that poor baby. You know I am.” He ran his fingers through his short hair. “But we’re barely keeping afloat now. You and I work full time, and we still got a fifteen-year-old to feed, bills to pay, and a house to manage. There’s no more money, Sodapop. I wish there was, but there just isn’t.”
Soda felt sobs rising in his throat. More tears fell. He could barely breathe. “You don’t understand. I am going. I don’t need your approval. I’m an adult now.”
“Hardly,” Darry snapped. “You think you could do it all on your own? Find a place to live, work full-time, and care for a baby? Not to mention all the legal matters that will come with trying to take custody of this child. I don’t see any way how it could happen.”
Soda sobbed. “Try to understand,” he begged again. “You dropped everything when Mom and Dad died. Everything. You were twenty. We weren’t even your kids, Dar. Just your brothers.”
Darry’s tightened mouth trembled. “Just? Brothers mean a damn lot, Soda. Even then. You know I loved you two more than the world when I took that responsibility.”
“I know,” Soda said. “That’s what I mean. You loved your brothers more than the world? Think of how much more you would love your own baby.”
He could see Darry’s composure faltering. “You haven’t even met him.”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“Look, Soda. You’re right, I dropped everything for you. And I’m glad I did. But you and Pony were teenagers. Pony could go to school during the day. And you decided to work. But neither of you needed to be looked after like a baby does.”
“But you would’ve figured it out.”
Darry blinked at him. “What?”
“If Pony had been a baby when Mom and Dad died? Would you have let him go just because of that?”
To Soda’s shock, a couple of tears slipped down Darry’s face. His older brother shook his head, his next words barely a whisper. “I would’ve gone to hell and back to keep him. I would’ve found a way. No matter what.”
“So, you see why I have to do this. I need him. He needs us. If I lose this kid now, I will regret it for the rest of my life. I will cry every night.”
Darry shook his head again. “Please, don’t. I couldn’t stand that.”
“So, help me,” Soda asked. “Darry, I need you. I’ve never needed you more in my life, and we’ve been through hell so many times. But this is it. I’m doing this with or without you, but I’d like it much more if you were with me. I—I have a much better chance if you’re with me. And personally?” His lower lip trembled. “Your support always means a lot, Dar. I love you. I need you to love me right now, too.”
Darry took a deep breath. It felt like an eternity before he answered. Finally, he locked eyes with Soda. “Okay. What do you need from me?”