NO! She couldn ‘t see him again. Another emotional encounter like this would devastate her. Might even hurt the baby.
She halted near the doorway and faced him, resolved to end their relationship in the only way possible.
“Rafe, I’m pregnant.”
He jerked back as if she’d punched him in the stomach. His face whitened with horror. “A baby?”
She nodded.
“You and Elliott are having a baby?” he lashed out. “Oh, God, what a fool I’ve been. Here I thought this was all about love and caring, but, no, it all boils down to this obsession you have with kids.”
Helen reeled under Rafe’s misconception. She hadn’t meant to imply that the baby’s father was Elliott. She’d been about to explain. “You bastard!”
“You bitch! How could you?”
“Me? Me?” she sputtered.
“You are always so almighty condescending about my greed for gold. Well, take a good look at yourself sometime. Oh, you had a great time pulling my strings, didn’t you? Making me feel guilty because I didn’t ooze fatherhood dreams. Damn it, how could you jump into another man’s bed? So soon?” Rafe’s mouth was tight and grim now, his eyes slicing her like blue daggers.
“You misunderstand — ”
“Misunderstand? What did I misunderstand? Are you or are you not pregnant?”
“I am but — ”
“Were you raped?”
“No, but — ”
“Do you want this baby?”
“With all my heart.”
He lifted his hands in a hopeless gesture of defeat, then masked his expression with insolent pride. “Well, that’s that, then. Thank God it’s not mine, because I sure as hell don’t want any brats. And certainly not yours.”
She flinched. “Rafe, let me explain — ”
He extended a hand to stop her approach. “No. I shouldn’t have come. It’s over, like you wanted. We were doomed from the beginning.” Opening the door, he stumbled out, then turned and said in a soft whisper of regret, “Be happy, babe.”
A week later, Helen sat miserable and distraught by the telephone. Rafe hadn’t come back again, and he refused to accept her calls.
His angry words about not wanting children had hurt Helen the most. Because she knew they were true. They proved more than anything that her marriage to Elliott would be the best thing for her and the baby. Still, she had to tell Rafe the truth. But if she told him now, he’d feel obligated to marry her, and she loved him too much to ruin his life that way.
Christmas carols played on the radio. Her home was decorated brightly for the holidays. The season of cheer. Hah! She did nothing but cry. Something had to be done soon, or as Elliott and her father had warned, the baby’s health would suffer.
The doorbell rang, and Helen jumped. She did that a lot lately. Not that she thought Rafe would return, but she subconsciously hoped.
She opened the door, and her eyes widened with astonishment. A Hispanic woman of about fifty with graying dark hair stood gazing up at her. She wore a Los Angeles Lakers sweatshirt, polyester slacks, and orthopedic shoes. Rafe’s mother. Oh, God!
“Can I come in? I am Rafael’s mother. My daughter Luisa is parking the car. She will be here shortly.”
Helen watched dumbly as Mrs. Santiago passed into the hallway, then entered the living room. Luisa soon came I scurrying after her, making a swift introduction and apologizing for their arrival without calling first.
After bringing them some coffee and Christmas cookies on a tray that she set on the coffee table, and after fifteen minutes of uncomfortable small talk about the weather and her home, which Mrs. Santiago liked very much, Helen said to the younger woman, “You’re LuLu, aren’t you? Rafe said you have five children. Where are they now?”
“Out in the car,” Luisa said. “Mama’s gonna take them to the mall this afternoon while I go to my classes at the community college. I’m studying to be a nurse’s aide.”
“In the car? But it’s cold out there. Bring them in.” So, Helen soon had five children crowded around her kitchen table eating cookies and milk, and Rafe’s mother and sister sitting in her living room chit-chatting about trivialities.