The Bump in the Road
On Tuesday I submitted my final Creative Writing assessment, a 1,500 word short story. I like the story, but I'm not really happy with the ending - being only 1,500 words, I couldn't expand as much as I'd like to. At first, I called it The Bump in the Road, but then changed it to The Ideal Road at my tutor's suggestion, although this isn't great either. It still needs work, but I thought I'd share. I've posted two endings; the same paragraph, but the second includes a line that was part of the final assessment, but I didn't like.
Melanie pushes into the crowded restaurant with a blast of cold air, looking over heads for Sam. She spots his tall build at a table by the window, glances at her watch - only five minutes late - and deftly removes her coat, hanging it by the door. Running a hand through her hair, she walks over to him and slides into the booth seat, kissing him on the cheek.
“Have you ordered yet?” she asks.
“No, I didn’t want your coffee to be cold when you got here,” he teases. “How was work?”
“You know how it is, they never give the interns any work, but I got in on the photo shoot - which was amazing by the way, it was for In Style - and I’m sucking up like crazy to my boss so she’ll let me at least help with the layout or something for the next issue. I must have bought her, like, 10 low fat, skim milk, no sugar cappuccinos!”
“Ah, well, that’s fashion for you.” Sam looks slightly smug.
“Well you can’t talk, you work in a bank!”
He reaches across the table to squeeze her hand. “You know I love it when you get all fired up.”
Melanie rolls her eyes. “So are you going to get this promotion, or what?”
“Fingers crossed. Steve’s leaving on Friday, so I’ll know by then.”
“I’d say good luck, but you don’t need it.”
“Gee, thanks. The confidence is flattering, I guess. So what’s up?”
She pulls her hand away to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. Biting her lip, she hesitates, and then - “I’m pregnant.”
It takes him a minute of disbelief before he finally comes to grips with it. “Wait, wait - are you sure? You’re not just…late, or anything?”
“Yes, Sam, I’m sure.” She sighs. “Five pregnancy tests can’t be wrong.”
A wide smile unfolds across his face. “But Melanie,” he says, and his voice is full of awe, “that’s fantastic!”
“What? Did you hear me right? I said I’m pregnant!”
“Yeah,” Sam enthuses, still grinning. “That’s so great!”
“No it isn’t! It sucks! It’s probably the worst thing that’s ever happened to me!”
“What? What do you mean?”
“Jesus, Sam, I don’t need this, I don’t want this right now!” Melanie gestures helplessly at her stomach, glaring.
“Isn’t that why you were on the pill?”
“And isn’t that why you were using protection?”
“Hey, you can’t pin this on me,” Sam protests, holding his hands up in defence. “As I recall, that one time that I forgot, you said you’d take care of it. And you weren’t complaining at the time.”
“Well, whatever. I’m not keeping it.”
There is a pause of comprehension. “You’re getting an abortion?” He frowns.
“Duh,” Melanie replies, but there is a catch in her voice.
“What?” Sam asks, incredulous. “Why? Isn’t this what we always wanted? A family? A child? To be parents?”
She laughs bitterly. “Don’t you know what happens to young mothers? They get tied down. For life. Children are a full time job, which is why it’s next to impossible for mothers to hold down a part time job or even return to work! In the fashion industry there’s no such thing as maternity leave, it’s leaving, because you never come back! One kid leads to another, and before you know it you’re a grandma, babysitting the grandkids. Have you thought about how exactly we’re going to support a child? The bank’s wages aren’t exactly setting us up for life. And think about us. We won’t be able to go out or, or get away for the weekend. You can kiss goodbye movies and football games for the rest of your life! I want to enjoy being young, with you, before we even think about this kind of thing.”
He looks at her witheringly. “That’s ridiculous and you know it,” he snaps. “You just want a career.”
“No, I want time,” she argues. “Sam, I’m twenty two! I’m not ready for this!”
“What about Charlie and Annabel?” For a moment, Melanie is still, and her eyes are wistful. He can tell that she remembers just as clearly as he does. The two names they’d picked out for their children, so certain in their youthful naivety that they couldn’t have anything other than a boy and a girl.
It was - what, a year ago? They’d been walking around the park, hand in hand, past the children’s playground, watching mothers pushing toddlers on swings.
“What’s your favourite girls’ name?” Melanie had asked, somewhat out of the blue.
“Melanie,” he’d replied.
“Apart from the obvious,” she retorted playfully.
“I’ve always liked the name Annabel.”
“Anyone I should be worried about?” she’d teased.
“Ah, yes.” He put a hand over his heart. “She was my first love.” But he was smiling. Melanie punched him on the shoulder. “Well what’s yours?”
“Rose. I was thinking of baby names. What do think of Annabel Rose?”
“It’s beautiful. But why baby names?”
“Haven’t you ever played the baby name game? Everyone does it! You know, in high school, when people say ‘what are your favourite names?’ or ‘what would you call your kids?’ Anyway, what’s your favourite boys’ name?”
“Sam Jr.”
“Ha ha.”
“Um…James.”
“Ooh, I like it. What do you think about Charlie?”
“Charlie James. It’s got a nice ring to it.”
Melanie’s smile was nearly bigger than her face. “Doesn’t it just?”
He looks at her steadily now, daring her to admit she doesn’t want the children they’d already named. She doesn’t meet his gaze.
“Sam, I’m not saying no to children for the rest of our lives, just not now. It doesn’t have to change anything - I still want us, to be together - but I don’t want this baby.”
Sam’s jaw tightens. “Well that’s too bad,” he says finally. “Because they’re kind of a package deal.”
“What do you mean, ‘package deal’?”
“I mean I want to be supportive of you Melanie; I want to be the good boyfriend who says ‘I’ll stand by you no matter your decision.’ But I can’t. Because I really think it should be our decision to make, not just yours. I don’t want you - us - to be hasty about this. I at least want us to talk about it, for you to listen to what I have to say. This is our opportunity to start the family we’ve dreamed of! There may be no ‘right’ time to have a baby, we’re about as ready as we’ll ever be. It’s not like you learn to be a parent with time. And there will always be sacrifices that we will have to make. In fact, they’ll probably be bigger as we get older. Health-wise, this is the best time to have children! Why wait, when what we want is only months away?”
Her lips are sent in a thin line. “Because I want to wait.”
“Fine,” he retorts, standing up to leave. “Let me make it easier for you. I will stand by you if you have this child, but I don’t think I could forgive myself if you don't, and I can’t promise to be there for you.”
***
Melanie lies in bed that night, curled in the foetal position with a hand on her stomach, and waiting for sleep that never comes. She’d tried counting sheep already, but all she saw were the faces of Charlie and Annabel, repeated a hundred times with just as many variations; blonde, brunette, blues eyes, her nose, Sam’s ears, smiling, wailing, pleading. She can imagine Sam, a laughing, caring, devoted father, washing, feeding and playing with their child, but she can’t picture herself doing any of these things, dearly as she may want to. She’d always imagined being a mother someday, but someday had come too soon. What if this was their only chance, and she blew it because she didn’t feel that she could handle it? But if she does go ahead with it, how can she be sure that things will work out, that she’s found the man she wants to spend the rest of her life with? She knows that part of her will forever resent their unborn child for disrupting her life, and she would hate herself for hating her child. Doubts begin unravel her resolve, and she sees her future stretching ahead of her, like two roads. One way is clear, lit up by ambition, success and freedom without the baby, but overshadowed by Sam’s absence. The other road is fuzzy, like a mirage, and in the distance, Sam is proudly holding their child, but this road lacks the lustre of the other, and she cannot bring herself to follow it.
Melanie lies in bed that night, curled in the foetal position with a hand on her stomach, and waiting for sleep that never comes. She’d tried counting sheep already, but all she saw were the faces of Charlie and Annabel, repeated a hundred times with just as many variations; blonde, brunette, blues eyes, her nose, Sam’s ears, smiling, wailing, pleading. She can imagine Sam, a laughing, caring, devoted father, washing, feeding and playing with their child, but she can’t picture herself doing any of these things, dearly as she may want to. She’d always imagined being a mother someday, but someday had come too soon. What if this was their only chance, and she blew it because she didn’t feel that she could handle it? But if she does go ahead with it, how can she be sure that things will work out, that she’s found the man she wants to spend the rest of her life with? She knows that part of her will forever resent their unborn child for disrupting her life, and she would hate herself for hating her child. Doubts begin unravel her resolve, and she sees her future stretching ahead of her, like two roads. One way is clear, lit up by ambition, success and freedom without the baby, but overshadowed by Sam’s absence. The other road is fuzzy, like a mirage, and in the distance, Sam is proudly holding their child, but this road lacks the lustre of the other, and she cannot bring herself to follow it, knowing that if she did, she would always wonder what life could have been like.
Let me know what you think; suggestions, ideas, repsonses, thoughts and constructive criticism most welcome.
The inspiration for this story was an issue I read about in a women’s magazine a few years ago regarding a woman’s right to decide the fate of the child she carried, and the extent to which the man had also a right in the decision eg if the woman wants to abort, does she have the right to do so even if her partner doesn’t want the same? I found this greatly intriguing and wanted to explore it further in short fiction. Such a story probably deserves a larger word count, but I have tried to show that both parties in a relationship have a right to decide their child’s fate, whatever that may be, and that ideally there should be some compromise and/or agreement. The title of this story - and the ending - refers to the reality being that nothing is ever ideal, even if it’s what we want. Neither character is particularly selfish in their reasons, but they are stubborn and find it difficult to reconcile their desires. This results in a particularly nasty situation for Melanie, who feels that she is damned in some way no matter what she decides. I have created this scenario in order to make the reader consider both sides of the issue and consider what they might do or how they might feel in this case.
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Just a girl