Chapter Text
The intense stomach cramping should’ve been the first sign. Instead, they wrote it off as dehydration and stress from the intensely hot summer in Shady Grove that year.
The second sign should’ve been when she flung the pickles off her burger in disgust. He cocked an eyebrow at her in question. She was the type to order extra pickles any chance she could. She waved him off.
Not in the mood for pickles today.
The missed period was the punchline to their increasingly fucked up lives. Their broken families didn’t need a new addition. It would wedge them further apart rather than piece them together.
“The doctor said I’m eight weeks along.” Ethel said in a monotone voice.
He lost all coolness. No words or thoughts. Just panic coursing through him. Finally, insensitively, he choked out, “My cousin saw a doctor up in Montgomery. Took care of things quietly.”
She glared at him. It was the wrong thing to say. “Fuck you, Will.”
Grabbing her arm gently he continued, “Hey now, we can take care of this. I can get some money together.”
She stared at the ground, long dark hair masking her expression. “Fuck off.”
She wrestled her arm out of his grasp. Launching herself off the tailgate of his truck, she stood in front of him, eyes downcast. “I can’t do it.”
“Baby, it’s not a big thing. Not that I would know all about it, but my cousins just fine. They give you some good drugs.”
She shook her head. “Damn you, Will. I can’t kill our baby.”
He blanched at her. “Baby? It ain’t no bigger than a wart.”
Slapping his leg, she shouted at him. “If you want nothing to do with the baby, whatever. But I’m keeping him.”
Will shook his head. “Ethel, you ain’t thinking rational. We are broke, living with our mamas, and ain’t got no future prospects.”
Ethel rolled her eyes. “You aren’t gonna convince me. I can handle it. I’ll pick up extra shifts. I’ll figure it out.”
Will began to panic. He didn’t see how she could even think about keeping it. “Please.” He said simply, practically begging.
“You’re a pathetic man. Not even a man. A boy.” She said coldly.
He felt a surge of anger. “Whatever Ethel. You go on and figure it out. I’m out. I can’t be a father. I can’t.”
His throat tightened. He knew he was a piece of shit. A horrible man and an even worse father. Images of belt beatings and empty kitchen cabinets flashed through his mind.
“I’ll take you home.”
“I’d rather walk.”
“Get in the damn car. You shouldn’t be out here in your condition.”
She laughed. “Will I’m pregnant, not dying.” His stomach turned at the word ‘pregnant’. It felt wrong coming out of her mouth. They weren’t careful. It was completely his fault. He put her in that condition. Guilt tore him up inside. Seeming to sense his inner turmoil, she got into the truck silently.
It would be the last time they were together for years. He left. Didn’t matter where. He abandoned his girl, his baby, his family. He didn’t feel man enough to be there. Unable to bring himself to care for a long time, he went from town to town, taking side jobs when he needed money.
Drinking his days away, as the weeks blended into months and years. One day he woke up, a deep sense of grief churning inside him.
How much time he had wasted. How scared Ethel had probably been. She never would’ve given up and abandoned him.
The baby.
He didn’t even know their name. Wasn’t sure if it was a boy or girl. He needed to right his wrongs and go home. As he drove back towards his old life, doubt began to swirl through his mind.
What if Ethel was seeing somebody? What if she wouldn’t even speak to him? Wouldn’t let him see their child? She would be justified in all aspects.