If you haven’t experienced the other episodes in the That Other Flock series, you can find them in the Index. Our characters are connecting the dots episode to episode more than originally planned so you’ll wanna know what’s happened before. Thank’s for reading!
“I’m pregnant.” Eve/Red was the picture of defiance, as she said it. Standing there next to the donuts in the church kitchen. She projected a ferocious defiance—shoulders square, head high, feet braced, ready to take or deliver a punch.
But there was still a flicker of vulnerability in her eyes.
All of which completely pissed me off.
If it wasn’t for her eyes, I could’ve continued to enjoy my carefully curated fantasy. This was her first Sunday back in our group after having told everyone what happened to me. I knew she’d enjoyed sharing my failure and crash with this little group. I’d fantasized about confronting her. I’d imagined her face when I’d railed at her in my mind, How dare you violate my privacy. Who do you think you are?
In my imagination, I’d humbled her. I’d watched her crumble. She’d cried and apologized. The group had rallied behind me and we’d banished her from our group. I’d pictured how she’d ask, really, beg for my forgiveness. I’d rehearsed how I’d conditionally, begrudgingly, give it. But we’d still make her an outcast from our group of outsiders. She’d have to leave. We couldn’t tolerate her someone like her.
Now this.
Her announcement caught us all by surprise.
“A bun in your oven!” This was Jelly, who could always find a food connection.
“Congratulations, I guess,” said Tommy.
Brian/Ice gave her a fist bump and a broad smile.
“Oh, Eve, do I congratulate you? I don’t know, is this a good thing?” Leon, who I continue to think of as Professor, said this with a soft smile. His voice was the kind, gentle voice of a grandfather. Maybe he spotted her vulnerability as well.
Betty just stared. No. She glared. Her lips were tight, eyes narrowed. Her hard look surprised me because she always played the peacemaker and den mother in our group. Smoothing and caring was what she did. In my confrontation fantasy, she’d been the dissenting voice I’d had to navigate around. But now she had a look of displeasure…and something harder. I’d never dreamed she had this in her.
I just gawked, my fantasy evaporating.
Leon followed up, “Is the father excited?” After a pause, he added, “Are you excited?”
“Do you know even know the father?” Betty asked, a sweetness in her tone that wasn’t on her face.
“Of course, I know the father. What kind of stupid question is that?” Eve’s defiance now on full display in her voice.
“You didn’t answer. Are you excited?” Betty followed up.
“I’m curious. Exactly how did you get pregnant?” Jelly said this with a goofy grin dusted with powdered sugar. He was sucking the cream from a cream filled donut. It was like watching a powdered sugar balloon deflate. He really doesn’t eat as much as he experiences food.
“You know, the usual way, fucking.” Eve answered, enunciating that last word carefully.
“Language, Eve, we know. Come on, we don’t need crudity here,” was Leon’s classic Baby Boomer response.
I pulled out my bottle of rum from my pocket, sipped and muttered more to myself than anyone, “At least now you won’t want to drink my rum.” Which wasn’t what I really wanted to say but was all I could come up with.
Eve looked me in the eye. What had seemed like vulnerability now looked like sadness. “Want to, but won’t. Thank you anyway.” She said this with an absurdly brittle veneer of politeness.
“You’re answering every question but mine.” Betty said. “Why? Not delighted to have a baby? Why are you avoiding the question? It’s an one easy.”
“You know why, you cruel dyke bitch.” Eve said this with a snarl again spoken with a clear cadence.
Jelly dropped his deflated donut on the floor.
Leon made that face you’ve seen in cartoons and infantile BBC comedies, eyes wide, mouth forming a perfect O, not making a sound.
Brian/Ice managed, “Easy there, girl, chill.”
Tommy was standing between them. I hadn’t seen him move. He was just suddenly standing between them with arms out like he could block the next verbal assault.
Betty smiled. And nodded. Satisfied.
I wasn’t sure what I was witnessing.
Betty leaned back against the counter and sipped her coffee. She’d gotten what she wanted.
Tommy said, “Let’s all take a breath.” Turning to Betty, he said, “You’re picking a fight we don’t need. Why? What’s your beef with Eve?”
“No beef, just curious,” Betty answered. No one in our group, including Betty, believed that.
“Bitch,” Eve muttered, turning back and gesturing for my rum.
“Expectant mothers shouldn’t drink, bad for the baby. Come on, you know that,” Leon said.
I let her have the bottle when she pulled it from my hand. She took a huge gulp, glaring at Betty the whole time.
“Congratulations on the birth defects. Smart play there, Mom,” Betty said watching her swallow the rum.
I’ve never been in a prison, not even as a visitor. So, I can’t say for sure, but the tone and volume that Tommy used was something I could imagine calming a riot in a prison yard. I mean, he’s been there. “Enough,” he roared, “Not another word from either of you.”
We all froze. No one moved, much less spoke.
Tommy took a deep breath and said, “Everyone, take a breath.”
Jelly retrieved his donut from the floor and blew off invisible germs before he took a bite.
Leon got his face under control.
Betty looked into her paper cup of coffee.
Eve shook her head and took another sip of rum.
Tommy and I made eye contact. He raised an eyebrow that meant something like, Now what?
Brian/Ice shifted to stand beside Betty, leaning against the counter next to her. He looked a question at Tommy, who nodded. Brian/Ice said, “Betty, what’s going on?”
Nodding toward Eve, she said, “Unwed mothers. Bringing babies into this world. That’s what’s going on.” She said it flatly, all the heat gone.
“You don’t know me. You don’t know.” Eve was pointing at her with my rum bottle.
We were all looking at her and I asked, “What? What don’t we know, Eve?”
“I don’t know why I’m here. I don’t know why I told you. Sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up or come back. Stupid.” She handed me the rum bottle and started out of the kitchen.
“You told us because we’re your only family,” Jelly said, looking up from his donut. “No one else to tell, right?”
Eve was heading toward the door, but she slowed and then stopped. Her shoulders rose and fell. I could see the smallest possible nod.
Jelly continued, “That’s why we’re here. We’re all any of us have.” I decided that was the truest thing I’d heard said down here.
“Come back, Eve,” Leon said to her back. Then, turning to Betty, he said, “Betty will let you talk, right?”
Betty nodded. And then shook her head side to side, “Yes. Come back, no, I won’t…” Here she faltered like she didn’t know what word was next. “You talk. Tell us whatever you want.”
Eve turned around but was still standing outside of our group’s circle. She was only 5 or 6 feet from us, but the gulf separating us was huge. Things had shifted. We all felt it.
I watched her defiance drained away. The change was so tangible; you’d expect to see a puddle at her feet. A lost little girl, all bravado gone.
Tommy smiled at her and said, “OK, you take a breath. It’s gonna be OK. Give us a minute.” Then, turning to Betty, he said, “You. What’s going on with you?”
Betty ran her hands through her hair and exhaled a long, loud breath. “Nothing, nothing, it’s all good.”
“No, it’s not.” Tommy looked around at us and said, “No. We can tell this isn’t you. What’s going on?” He made a vague gesture to take in all of us and all the words.
“Sorry. I over reacted. Caught me by surprise. That’s all.” Betty sounded contrite now.
Brian/Ice said, “Eve, what do you need? How can we help you?”
Eve shook her head, “Nothing, I’m OK, I’ll be fine.” There was no heat in her voice or strength in her posture. She didn’t move. She was a picture of fragility.
Tommy, who it turns out is an amazing small group leader, said, “OK, Eve, what would you like us to know?”
“Nothing. I got nothing.”
“Fair enough. Can we ask you a question?” Tommy continued.
“I guess so.”
Tommy looked around at us, a question on his face. No one jumped in. He said, “OK, an obvious question is, ‘Is the father in your life?’”
Lips pursed, Eve shook her head.
We looked back at Tommy. This was his show. He smiled and nodded. “OK, that happens. Your family? Relatives? Co-workers?”
As he asked, she never stopped shaking her head. “No.”
Finally, he said, “No one?”
She agreed with him. “No one.”
Leon asked, “But what about your family in San Francisco? Can you get help from them?”
She shook her head.
“Why not? Really? No family?” Jelly had finished his donut.
She stared at him until he finally said, “OK, OK.” He turned, looked at me, and said, “You guys should be friends. Life screwed you both, and you’re both on your own.”
That got a choked laugh from Betty. Tommy gave me one of his raised eyebrows (he can do a lot with facial expressions).
Leon shook his head and said, “Hey now, no one here is on their own. We’ll stick together.”
Brian leaned across the donuts, fist bumped him, and said, “Heard that.”
Everyone was looking at me. I said after a moment, “I’m in no shape to help anyone. I can’t even help myself.”
“Yeah, don’t need help from you,” Eve said this with more of her typical spark. “I’ll figure this out.” She took a visible breath and stepped closer to us in response to Tommy's gesture.
He waved her closer.
She took another step.
She was still outside our circle.
Tommy said, “Where you stand counts. Means something. Come on in.”
She took another step closer.
He pointed to the empty spot beside me against the counter.
“That’s your spot.” He said it to her, but he was looking at me. “That’s where you belong. That’s where you stand.”
She looked at me. She had always stood next to me, probably to get my rum.
I have no capacity or margin to deal with big emotions or intense interpersonal connections. The past year had hollowed me out.
The only thing I know right now is lostness. I was shaking my head. Not saying “No” to her standing beside me, but thinking about where this would lead. Rather than a confrontation with yelling, now it was acceptance. I was supposed to find the strength to care about her? I don’t have it. Nothing against her…mostly. I mean, I still want to know why she told my secret, but my outrage had evaporated.
That’s why I was shaking my head. I was lost in my hurt. Not really to say “No” to her standing next to me. Really.
But that small head shake broke something.
Brian hissed at me, “You fucker.” He stepped toward Eve as her face fell. His arms were wide for a comforting hug.
Leon turned to me. “Really? You’re saying no? You?”
“She’ll deal.” Betty said. “She’ll figure it out.”
And then I was fighting a sob. Uncontrollably raw. That was all I was thinking. “No.” I choked out. I stuffed down the rush of emotion enough that I could say, “That’s not what I meant. Please come in. Be here. I meant I’m lost, I’m empty, hurt. Broken. Don’t know how I can even stand upright, much less help you.”
I managed a big, deep breath and said, “That’s all. I just have nothing for me, much less for you.”
“Preach it,” Jelly said with no discernible awareness of how that’s the last thing I’d want anyone to say to me.
“People in pain. We have trouble imagining we have room for anyone else’s pain,” Leon said. “That’s natural. But we don’t have to have room for more pain. We have to find a little space for a person. Just to care a little.”
Eve cautiously settled into her spot next to me. Not as close as usual, but beside me. Each of us lost in our own thoughts.
Then Tommy asked what was on most of our minds. “Betty, what’s your beef with Eve? What’s going on?”
Betty’s lips were tight. She was practically vibrating.
Jelly was standing next to her, and he gave her a hip bump. “Come on, dish it,” he said. Which was funny because he’s about 200 pounds heavier and a foot taller than her, so his hip nudged her just below her shoulder, which nearly bowled her over. She stumbled slightly, spilling some of her coffee. There were awkward snickers all around. The tension broke.
Betty ran a hand through her hair and said, “Guys, I’m sorry, just a little cranky. Sorry Eve. Sorry. No problems. All good.”
“Nice. But still not good enough. Come on, you make everyone else talk, your turn.” Jelly continued the hip to shoulder contact with her.
After a long pause, she pointed at Eve’s belly. “That was me, an unwanted bastard baby. A throw away life because of a broken condom or some other stupid, thoughtless shit.”
Eve and Betty stared at each other across the table of donuts.
“Did not see that coming,” Jelly said as he grabbed a chocolate glazed.
st
I find myself checking my email on Sundays several times to see if you’ve posted. I have my guesses about Red.