(Four months later)
Sara stepped from the shower, and began toweling off, the hot shower having relaxed her neck muscles somewhat. She had been feeling pretty tense lately, but at least her morning sickness seemed to have run its course.
She tossed the wet towel into the hamper and looked down at her ever expanding waistline. She knew it was probably impossible, but it seemed like she was even bigger today than she had been yesterday.
Her eyes moved to the clothing she had brought into the bathroom with her; the shapeless garments that consisted of her wardrobe these days making her sigh.
She could no longer chance a run in with anyone on her way back to her room wearing only a towel.
At five months pregnant she knew it would be pretty obvious to anyone that she hadn't just put on a few pounds in any state other than fully clothed, but so far she had managed to fool Grace and Aldo, and she wasn't about to push her luck.
She sighed again and reached for her oversized sweat shirt, her movements sending the towel wrapped around her freshly washed hair askew. She felt it falling and grabbed at it.
She was bending at the waist to twist it back in place when the door popped open. Why hadn't she locked the door?!
She looked up in surprise to see Grace Burrows, her mouth open but no sound issuing forth.
Grace's eyes went from Sara's swollen breasts to her distended stomach; a look of understanding flitting quickly across her features, only to be replaced by hurt and anger in the next beat of Sara's racing heart.
Sara grabbed her sweat shirt and hurriedly pulled it on, knocking the towel off her head, sending it tumbling to the floor in the process.
She stood with her wet hair hanging in her face looking at her mother for what seemed like forever before Grace finally spoke.
"Finish getting dressed and then come down stairs, Sara."
Her voice was of a controlled calm, and Sara thought she saw her mother's famous I'm pissed at you twitch below her left eye.
Sara nodded silently and then Grace turned and left the room shutting the door behind her.
As soon as she was alone, Sara let out the shaky breath that had been trapped in her chest.
So her mother knew. Sara had known this day would come, and soon; she was getting so big. But somehow she had convinced herself it would be much later, like when she was in her sixth or seventh month?
She took a deep breath and then finished dressing, her fingers shaking as she pulled up her baggy sweats.
Leaving the still steamy bathroom behind, she made her way quickly to her room to pull a brush through her wet hair.
Taking another deep breath, her eyes locked determinedly with her reflection in the mirror, Sara told herself to be strong, and then headed downstairs to talk to Grace.
When Sara entered the living room Grace was standing with her hands clasped behind her back, looking out the window. Utilizing the mythical mother hearing she turned as Sara silently entered the room.
Grace's eyes were cold and her lips pursed, her hands now clasped in front of her as she approached her daughter.
"Does the father know?"
Sara had been looking down at her own clasped hands, wringing them nervously, but she looked up at her mother's cold words.
She shook her head, not saying anything.
Grace nodded, a cold smile playing across her features.
"Well, when did you plan to tell everyone your news, Sara? Or did you just intend to go into labor and surprise all of us?"
Sara shook her head again, her anger starting to boil up from where she had hidden it, under the despair and hopelessness of the situation.
She met her mother's eyes, her resolve strengthened by her anger as she prepared to voice the confession she had practiced silently for the last five months.
"I was afraid if I told you, you would make me get an abortion. But I'm too far along now, so it's too late."
Grace unclasped her hands and reached out to place a hand on each of her daughter's shoulders.
"You will not raise your step brother's child in this house!"
Sara didn't flinch. She could feel her mother's boney fingers digging into her, but still she didn't pull away.
"What makes you think this baby is Michael's? I mean your not forgetting what a slut I am, are you, Mother?"
Sara gauged the reaction of her words, that of her mother's face growing hard, the tell tale twitch going full force.
"If you expect Aldo and I to believe for a second that this child isn't Michael's…."
"I don't care what you and Aldo believe, Mother. This baby isn't Michael's. It's David's; David Apolskis'." Sara spat coldly.
Grace's face registered her surprise, but then she laughed; a shrill sound that in Sara's opinion could have easily rivaled any wicked step mother Disney ever cooked up, .
She faced her mother dead on, "I'm keeping this baby, and you can't stop me."
With this she turned and ran from the room, her mother's voice on her heels
"Oh, I will put a stop to this, alright. You mark my words young lady. That child will not spend one night under my roof!"
Sara made it as far as the stairs before the angry tears broke the surface of her cold, pain filled eyes.
She would never agree to give up Michael's child. She was going to keep this baby if it killed her.
(3 months later)
Sara knew everyone had been talking about her; speculating who the father of her baby could be. At eight and a half months gestation, she was now passed the point of hiding it.
She had continued to go to school up until last week, when the tingling in her feet got to be too bothersome. Now Kelly just dropped by with her assignments every day after school. It was easier this way. This way Sara didn't have to pretend she didn't hear all of the giggles and whispers of the girls who held their breath each month praying not to be knocked up after a wild night with their current boyfriend.
Sara sighed and looked at her watch as the doorbell rang. If it was Kelly she was early.
She eased up from the couch, one hand behind her, supporting her back and then headed for the door.
The woman and man standing on the other side of the door smiled as she looked on them in surprise.
"Sara?"
The woman looked familiar, but Sara wasn't sure why. And then it hit her who they were.
Her heart sped up and her mouth went dry.
"Um, Mr. and Mrs. Apolskis, what are you doing here? I mean, gosh, come in, please, you must think me so rude."
Sara knew she was babbling, but she couldn't seem to stop.
She ushered them in and led them to the living room, where she eased back down on the couch not trusting her legs to stand.
She thought she knew what had brought them to her door; the rumor mill had brought them. And now they wanted her to tell them if what they had heard was the truth.
Sara looked anxiously from one hopeful face to the other hoping she was wrong. Because it was one thing to tell her parents that David was the father of her baby, but to tell these people she was carrying their grand son would be something else entirely.
After a few moments of uncomfortable silence Mr. Apolskis spoke for the both of them.
"Sara, we know…How do I put this? We have heard that…We know you were somewhat close with our son in his last…"
He cleared his throat before continuing, his eyes filling as his hoarse words filled the room.
"We just want you to know that if this child is our…our grand child; David's child, we will do whatever it takes to be a part of the baby's life. You see David's...your child is all we have left of him…"
He broke down and his wife's arms moved around him offering comfort.
Sara felt like she couldn't breathe; like someone was squeezing her lungs.
She took a deep breath and opened her mouth to tell them it wasn't true, that the baby wasn't David's, but then her mother's words came back to her. All of the things Grace had said and done over the last three months, all of the pamphlets on adoption her mother had forced her way.
Sara felt her eyes fill with tears as she looked on the two hopeful parents who wanted this baby for a grandchild more than her own parents ever would. And she did what she told herself was best for everyone. She lied.