She listens patiently as I tell her my and Niall’s plans. I get the feeling if it wasn’t for the seriousness of the situation she would probably find it amusing, or rather my ideas amusing.
‘Sure, it’s such a big commitment,’ she says. ‘I don’t know how a sixteen-year-old and an eighteen-year-old can truly manage.’
My tentative hopes of her embracing grandmotherhood begin to slide away. I wanted Mum to be my ally in this.
‘We need to tell your dad,’ she says. ‘Jesus, he is not going to be happy.’
That surely has to count as the understatement of a lifetime.
I’m sitting on my bed, pretending I’m reading the book on my lap. Pretending I don’t really know Mum is telling Dad about the baby. I’m trying hard to focus my eyes on the words, but my brain is connecting with my ears only. All other senses diminish as my hearing heightens.
The tones of their voices start off low, but now Mum has broken the news the pitches are rising, becoming louder and finally I hear Dad as clear as if he were right next to me.
‘Erin! Get yourself in here. NOW!’
Mum is silent. She knows it’s not worth trying to appease him now. He’s in a temper, for sure. Before I even reach the door, I hear him shout for me again. I feel sick. My hands are trembling. I hold them together over my stomach, close my eyes and take a moment to compose myself. I have to be strong. I need to prove to Dad that although I’m only sixteen, I’m grown up enough to take on the responsibility of a child.
He rants and raves. He calls me stupid, irresponsible, naive and a tramp. The last hurts the most. Whoever said sticks and stones were the only things that could hurt you was lying. Even Mum draws in a sharp breath at this attack.
‘Jim, please…’
He dismisses her protests with a wave of his hand. ‘I didn’t bring my daughter up to go sleeping around and getting herself pregnant at sixteen.’
‘She’s not been sleeping around. She’s been in a relationship with Niall for a long time now.’
I appreciate Mum’s defence. She may not like what’s happened, but she is taking her usual pragmatic approach.
‘But she’s only sixteen and he’s only, what, eighteen?’
Dad hasn’t yet taken his eyes from me. He shakes his head. I force myself to hold his gaze and not look down. I won’t let him shame me. Instead, I stand myself taller, swallow hard and tell him about the plans Niall and I have made.
Amazingly, he listens without interruption and as I finish with, ‘We love each other,’ the corners of his mouth turn up and, for a fleeting second I feel a surge of joy, as I believe he has been convinced by my argument. But the smile doesn’t come – it turns out to be a derisory smirk.
‘That’s just great, Erin,’ he says, sarcasm coating his every word. ‘You’ve got it all sorted out, haven’t you? You’re going to have the baby, get a house, go to college, get a job and live happily ever after. I’m worrying about nothing, aren’t I?’ He taps Mum’s arm. ‘Hey, did you hear that, Marie? Erin has it all sorted. We’ve nothing to worry about.’
Mum looks uncomfortable and throws me a look I can interpret immediately. I prepare myself for the second onslaught.
‘And where do you think you’re going to get all the money for this? We’re not rolling in it. Do you really think Mrs High and Mighty Diana Marshall is going to fall over you with handouts? Get real, Erin.’ He clicks his fingers inches from my face. ‘This is not some fairytale out of one of those romance books you read. This is real life.’
My bravado is waning. ‘What are you trying to say?’ I can’t quell the tremble in my throat that makes my words wobble.
Dad looks at me for a long moment. I see his shoulders sag and he exhales a deep sigh. Is that compassion in his eyes? He places a hand on the top of my arm and when he speaks his voice is soft but firm. ‘You can’t keep the baby.’
‘I can. And I’m going to.’ The wobble has become a tremor and the words are catching in my throat.
‘Erin…’ Mum takes a step towards me.
I take a step back. And another. ‘It’s not up to you.’ My eyes flick from one face to the other.
‘Think about it,’ says Dad. ‘It won’t work. You’re both too young and don’t know what you want in life. You can’t tie yourselves down at this age. Not to each other and not to a baby.’
‘Listen to your dad,’ says Mum. ‘He’s only thinking of you and your future.’
I shake my head in disbelief. Mum is siding with Dad. He curses under his breath and when he speaks again the softness has gone and the dominating father I’m accustomed to returns.