This sounds somewhat similar to what Wesley went through with his wife. “Were you still in high school?”
“Yes, I was about to begin my senior year. Morning sickness made its not-so-graceful appearance on the first day of school, so I spent most of the day racing to the bathroom. When I saw Robert that night, I couldn’t keep it a secret from him any longer. He knew. And once I finally admitted it to him, he was ecstatic, but I had a feeling he would be. It was too soon, but it was the family we’d always wanted . . . dreamed about. We kept quiet about it until I was four months along. That’s when I told my parents . . . a day I’ll never forget. They listened quietly, and I was shocked that they didn’t have much to say about it. I just almost thought they’d be understanding for once. But when my dad stood and took his belt off, I knew there wouldn’t ever be hope for me and the baby inside of me. He beat me with that leather strap until his arm was too weak to lift it again. My legs were so raw and swollen that I could hardly walk for a few days. That next Sunday in church, my parents dragged me up to the front and told the entire congregation that I was a whore, and they made me confess that I was carrying a bastard child.”
“That’s horrible,” I choke out through my unexpected emotion. “I can’t imagine my parents ever treating me that way. Well, I can’t imagine any parent being that way.”
Chesley wipes away a solitary tear trailing down her cheek. “It was really bad for a few months. They promised that if they ever found out I even spoke to Robert again that they’d press charges for statutory rape, and they continued to threaten that until the day I went into labor. It was a month too early, but I started having contractions at school, so the school nurse called my mom and told her that I needed to go to the hospital. She refused to take me, telling the nurse that if I was woman enough to spread my legs for a man, I could use them to walk myself to the hospital. I called Robert, and he was there within a few minutes. He didn’t leave my side until the moment my parents showed up the next morning. He took the baby back to the nursery, telling me that he’d come back after my parents and I had a chance to talk. That’s the last time I saw Wesley.”
“He left with him? He’s the one that wouldn’t let Wesley see you?”
“Oh, no. Robert was a wonderful man, even at that age. He wanted us to be a family, and he was willing to do whatever he had to in order to make it work. The reason I never saw him again was because of my parents. My dad told me that the doctors found out that I was an unwed mother, and that they wanted me out of their hospital immediately. My mom walked out of the room, saying that she was going to go get Wesley from the nursery, and my dad helped me to the car. I was young and scared and incredibly naïve. I didn’t know what to do. After a few minutes, my mom jumped into the car without the baby, and they drove me away without explanation. We drove for two days until we reached my grandparents’ house in California. They told me that Robert’s family would care for Wesley, and that if I ever tried to contact them or go back, they’d press charges against him and see that Wesley ended up in an orphanage.”
Just like the first day I met her, I notice the years of heartache and worry on her face. Every wrinkle tells the same story; every line shows the deep regret she’s lived with every day since Wes was born. I truly believe that she never would’ve walked away if it wasn’t for her awful parents. I don’t even know them, and they disgust me. It wasn’t necessarily Chesley that caused Wesley’s years of hurt . . . it was his grandparents. “I can’t imagine what you went through. I don’t understand how your parents could be so narrow-minded and shallow. He’s their grandchild.”
She shakes her head. “No, they would never admit that. I cried for weeks. I couldn’t eat or sleep. I tried to run away, but my dad caught me and started locking me in the basement at night, so I couldn’t sneak out. After several months of listening to their threats, I’m ashamed to admit that I gave up trying. I was defeated and exhausted. Finally, after nearly two years, my parents started letting me out of the house for church. That’s where I met my husband. I told him what had happened with Wesley, and he helped me to get away from my parents by marrying me. We planned to divorce after a while, but we ended up falling in love and I stayed with him until he passed away five years ago. I haven’t seen my parents since the day I was married.”
I take a sip of my coffee, which has now turned cold. “So why didn’t you try to contact Robert after you got away from your parents? I’m sure your husband would’ve understood that.”