October 2017
I stare blankly at the same old message. As I did every morning, hoping something might change, that maybe he would write back.
Three weeks I had been hiding my secret for three weeks. I pretended like nothing was wrong, nothing was happening to me. If I didn't think about it, it wouldn't bother me. If I didn't think about it, maybe I would wake up and it all be a dream?
Yet every morning I spend my waking moments checking to see if he said anything back. It's always the same. The days turn into weeks and I know I need to come to clean. I'm sure I need to see a doctor sooner than later. I have to be close to two months considering Thanksgiving was fast approaching.
Every day is the same, nothing, completely nothing?
Radio silence.
Every day I contemplated was it desperate to send another? I was carrying his child after all? I sigh and close the obvious one-sided conversation.
I go over to Walter and type out slowly.
Hope you having fun! I miss you!
I debate for a moment, wondering if I should say more. I decide against it and hit send.
"Rilla it's time to get up," I hear mom shout from at the foot of the stairs. I had to drag myself out of bed soon or later. A half-eaten package of crackers was open on my bedside table.
"I'm up," I call back and haul myself out of my bed. My hair is still damp from the night before as I take it out of it wrapping. Which was a cotton tee-shirt, but it always helps manage my curls on wash day overnight. I grab my blow dryer and diffuser and flip my head upside down and begin attacking it to make it dry.
It's slightly purple in spots, as the colour faded back to the medium-toned red that it was naturally.
When I finally make it downstairs, Dad was already on his way out. He quickly kissed my cheek goodbye before heading to the clinic.
"Are you sure you're feeling all right?" Mom asked walked into the kitchen. "You're looking rather peaky in the mornings lately?"
"I'm fine," I say stepping off to the side away from her. "Just tired I suppose, school, work, ballet," I say as I grab a yogurt from the fridge and put it back looking for another.
"Don't forget to take your iron supplement, if you're feeling unwell it might be worth too have dad look at your levels?" Mom told me.
"I'm sure I'm fine," I grab another yogurt from the fridge and look at it for a moment deciding it was the flavour I wanted. The last thing I need is a blood test, from my father. I don't want him to accidentally find out before I get the guts to tell them.
"You need to eat more than yogurt," She says looking at me. "You're barely eating lately."
"I eat, I eat all the time," I say defensively. "You see me eat dinner almost every night," I tell her as I sit down at the table. She stares at me and I huff and grabbed a banana and quickly peel it and shove half of it in my mouth.
She looks at me and shakes her head. "Be ready to head out in twenty minutes," she told me as she turned around to finish getting dressed for the day.
"I'm also going to Walmart tonight, do you need anything? Tampons, shampoo, deodorant?" She calls out as she walks away.
"I'm good," I say weakly as I press my hand to my stomach. I moan and lay my head against my arm that was resting on the table.
How could I hide this for? My parents weren't idiots, I might be able to stretch out another month possibly? I can say my period was being irregular from dance if needed. If someone did ask about it, I could use that excuse. Sometimes I was just irregular, the life of a dancer who carefully watched her body weight.
They would notice eventually that I was pregnant. It's not something you could hide forever.
"You know breakfast is usually best if you eat it," I look up and see Shirley standing in front of the fridge.
"Leave me alone," I tell him as I shove a spoonful of my yogurt into my mouth and finish off the container as fast as I could.
"Jeez, someone is crabby," Shirley raised an eyebrow at me as I threw away my container and chuck my spoon in the sink. "You might want to pull the cactus—,"
"You finish that Shirley Gilbert Blythe, I will cut off your phone data." My mother warns him as she comes back into the kitchen for a brief second.
"I pay for my cellphone," Shirley stated blankly to mom but I could hear him grin.
"Fine, you live under my roof you don't say things like that," Mother tells him before kissing his cheek. "Come on Rilla, we're going to be late if we don't head soon." I look up the clock.
"You said twenty minutes!" I object. "It's been barely ten minutes.
"Then I suggest you hurry up," Mom gave me a look. "Tuck in your and shirt and button it as well."
"I can't it pulls," I tell her. "Remember new bras, you said you would grab me some new uniform shirts and you didn't"
"Then wear a polo," she said with a shake of her head. "I'll grab some dress shirts tonight from the uniform store."
"My polos are dirty," I explain.
"Shirley can you grab one of your old shirts for your sister. I know you still have a few lying around. It will be big for you but it's better than being too small." Mom tells him and he goes to find one.
"You make it sound like I'm wearing nothing underneath I have a tank top underneath it," I say rolling my eyes.
"Just do what I say, I don't want a teacher to send you to me for dress code violations. I see too many short skirts, unbuttoned shirts and lack of modesty shorts to begin with." Mom grabbing her bag. "I'll go warm up the car."
Shirley grins as he tosses me a polo shirt. It was a bit large. Shirley spent more time playing video games and reading comics, but all of my brothers were taller and lanky without really trying to be. If anyone was a bit buff, it was Jem, who worked out enough to lift patients when needed.
I sigh and stuff the hem into my skirt and grab my jacket and school bag. I reach the door only to turn around to grab my bottle filled with tea. I hid my nausea as best as I could, I rarely threw up but the nausea was constantly present. Instead, I drank large amounts of ginger peach tea. Munched on rice crackers to get me through the mornings at school.
The school was awfully normal, maybe too normal? School gossip ran up and down the halls. Who was dating who? Who was sleeping with somebody else, who had an eating disorder, who decided to be an idiot in carpentry class and almost get suspended? I don't see Ellie or Rena very often since they graduated the past year being a year old than me. It was almost a relief in actuality.
By the second period, I was already bored, really Of Mice and Men? The book needed to be burned in my mind. Between this book and Lord of the Flies, I was going to struggle through English this semester.
"Hey, do you have a spare pen?" A girl with long brown hair asked me. "Mine just ran out," she said showing the scratched-up piece of paper.
"Oh sure, here," I say as I grabbed two from my pencil case. "Blue or black?"
"Blue please," she said whispering. "I'm Olivia."
"Rilla," I say back.
"Don't let me forget to give it back to you," She said as the teacher looked at us.
"It's fine keep it," I say before turning back towards the blackboard by the time class is over with I can feel my stomach growl for food.
"You're new here aren't you?" I ask her.
"I am I started last week, we just moved here from New Brunswick," She told me.
"Well, welcome to Glen High," I say with a small smile. "Do you want to hang out at lunch?" I ask her.
"Sure," Olivia nodded her head shyly. "Where's your locker?
"Up in the math wing," Rilla tells her. "Yours?"
"Oh over in the art wing," she responds. "Let's go to yours first and then mine since it closer to the cafe?"
I nod my head and we turn towards the section that the math classes were in so I could grab my lunch and then to hers.
I open my container of salad and fruit as I see her watching me. "I'm a dancer," I explain. "I don't eat much meat or dairy."
"As long as you're not allergic to peanut butter, you can eat whatever you want," Olivia said with a grin.
"No allergies here," I shake my head.
"What sort of dance do you do?"
"Mostly ballet these days, but I was in tap as a child," I reply in-between my mouthfuls of salad.
"I did figure skating as a kid but that's about it," Olivia told me. "I hated it though, it was more of my mother's thing for a long while."
"My mother reads a lot," I say. "I don't enjoy it enough to keep up with it either," I say smirking. Leaving out that my mother was also the principal of this very school that we went to.
For a brief moment, I forgot about all my problems as we talked about our interests in school and what we wanted to do after graduation. I fake a smile and slip an arm under the table as sit on the edge of the bench. Half of my mind remembering exactly what I was hiding from everyone still.
We got our separate ways, having different classes after lunch. History for myself, while she had French class. I struggle my way through my classes before going back towards my locked and grabbing my bags so I could go to dance. I do my homework on the bus when I go to ballet. On weekend I helped in the dance ship and helping with kindergarten dance classes.
The studio and dance shop was in Charlottetown, the only one on the island.
I changed quickly for class in the small change room and quickly tied my pointe shoes before tackling my hair. Smoothing it back the best I could without brushing it and twirling it up into a bun. Then millions of pins and a hair net and more pins until I was ready, as the other girls departed.
I looking the empty change room for the moment and turn sideways and run my hand over my stomach. Still rather flat, but of course it was I still could manage to hide for a few more weeks.
"Blythe, come on!" A classmate called out. "Stop thinking you're fat you're slim as ever!" The Ballet Mistress tried to install some sort of positive thinking in her studio. No one was allowed to utter the words
'I'm fat, ugly' in her presence. Dance was about strength and fitness, not just being a willowy fairy on the stage.
"Coming," I call out turn towards the door.
I fall into line at the barre and begin my warm-up. Getting into my dance mind frame, getting into the zone for whatever she had planned for the class that day.
I could tell that my dance teacher was watching me. Noticing that I wasn't completely in the mindset to dance mentally. How each movement felt harder, more difficult to execute. I was more acutely aware of my shoes that were slowly breaking down, I forgot to jet glue them to make them last longer.
"Focus Rilla!" Tess called out to me in class. I wasn't on my game, my body wasn't cooperating. I wanted to give up and throw up all at the same time.
"Hands Rilla!"
"You know how to do this Rilla, focus," She called again. Some of the other kids were snickering. She rarely corrected me this much in one class.
"Focus," I say to myself as I finish the variation with wobbling legs.
As soon as I was done I was slumped in a corner, wiping sweat away from my forehead. I carefully drank some water as I pick at my pointe shoes.
I had two pairs a month. Eighty dollars a pair, plus ribbons and elastic. This year it was expected that I would help cover the cost of them. Which ate up most of my merger paycheque I got from helping classes and the dance shop. We had settled for me paying for half of the 200 dollars a month. Which included a small staff discount as I was working there now. While my parents paid for the other half. If I needed a third pair for a performance or exam, if I could justify the cost they would allow me a third pair.
Ballet was expensive, and when you have numerous kids in college. Student lines of credit were still very much a thing for our family. It didn't matter both of my parents had good jobs, my father was a doctor after all. Money still had to be watched and spent carefully.
Their favourite saying was 'Money doesn't grow on tree's children.'
I panted as my heart rate returned to normal. I wanted crackers, I needed something to settle my stomach but there was no food in the studio. My vision was swarming as I stood up and exited the classroom without permission.
"I shove some crackers into my mouth and chew when I made it into the small change room.
"Rilla?" I hear the ballet mistress call out. "Are you all right?"
"I'll be fine, I guess I'm a little under the weather," I tell her and she frowns looking me over. I instantly feel like she knows and is going to say something about it. How could she know anyway?
"You can sit out the rest of the class today, you shouldn't dance if you are sick." She told me. "Last thing I need you fainting on pointe and breaking something."
"I know I'm sorry, I thought after lunch I was better," I said nodding my head compliantly with her suggestion. "I guess I wasn't?"
"Just sit and watch, or call and see if your ride can come earlier?"
I shake my head. "Joy is finished up work and is picking me up afterwards," I said explaining it was my sister tonight.
I change into my leggings and tee-shirt I brought with me, so I wouldn't have to wear my uniform again. I sit in the hall of the dance school as I waited for Joy to come to pick me up from dance. We usually stop and get a drink of some sort, sometimes we get dinner at my favourite vegan taco place.
We're fairly close despite the differences in our ages, which is a full sixteen years. I never understood what prompted my parents to have seven children. But they did. I had only been a toddler when she left home for the first time, but she always made time for us younger siblings. When she was around I stuck to her like glue. She never seemed to resent us for having a different upbringing than herself.
When she met Matt, I was the first of the siblings to meet him. Mostly since I was there when they had met. It was an awkward moment for him when he assumed I was her daughter. We both burst out laughing and explain that we were sisters, and he bought us our drinks in apology. I had come out from using the washroom when I saw them exchange numbers. Joy's smile brightened at the prospect of a date, I thought it was weird. Who asked out girls they didn't know out at coffee shops? Then again I was barely ten at the time.
I didn't hear of him for the next few months, not until he showed up with Joy for our bi-weekly family dinner. He had given me a handshake and promptly asked me if I was in dance. Considering I was twirling around in a tutu I gave him a sassy 'of course' response. We learned for the first time that night he also had a set of twins from a previous relationship. The rest was history it seemed, as in the next two years I would be Junior Bridesmaid at her wedding. Nan and Di, the twins being actual bridesmaids which made me jealous. But I was only twelve, too old to be a flower girl, too young for a bridesmaid.
I must have been in my own head as I heard her honk the horn. I quickly grabbed my things and ran toward her car. Still upset about the situation, missing half of dance class.
I muttered a hello as I sank into my seat. She smiles at me and pulls away.
"How was school?" She asked as she always does.
"Same as usual," I said with indifference. She sees through me instantly. She knows me too well.
"Rilla?" Joy asked as she looked over to me, the radio playing in the background. "Everything all right lately? You've been awfully quiet?" She pauses not satisfied with her assumption. "You don't seem yourself lately."
"Has mom put you up to that?" I ask her.
"Of course not, you just seem different, quiet?" Joy explained as she stopped at the stop sign and hit her signal. "You're not on one of your crazy health kicks again are you?"
I knew Matt warned Joy from time to time to try and make sure I wasn't going overboard with my training or my diet. He understood what I was trying to achieve but he also knew how competitive sports could be. Joy always shook her head at us but was glad that we all treated him like another brother.
"I'm fine, and no," I reply. "Just peachy," I added as I lean over and turn up the radio. The familiar sound of an old One Direction song started.
Going out tonight
Changes into something red
Her mother doesn't like that kind of dress
Everything she never had she's showing off
I blink as my heartbeat rapidly. That red sundress flashed in my mind. My mother had given me a look as I bounded down the stairs that night as Ellie honked the horn of her sister Irene's car.
I waved her off. I lied through my teeth.
Moving too fast
Moon is lighting up her skin
She's falling, doesn't even know it yet
Having no regrets is all that she really wants
I let out a sob unexpectedly. The lyrics hitting home with each passing phrase. The glimpse of Ken across the bonfire, the cigarette in his hand, how did I not know?
I startle Joy so much she pulls over the car as soon as she can.
"Rilla? What's wrong?" She asks me suddenly going into big sister mode.
"I'm in so much trouble," I sob, breaking down as she undoes her seat belt and wraps her arms around me trying to comfort me.
"Oh darling, I'm sure you aren't" She responds stroking my hair.
"But I am Joy, I don't know how to face them, I don't know what to do at all," I blubber.
"Rilla, honey what's going on?" Her voice clear with empathy.
The words tumble out of my mouth.
"I'm pregnant, I didn't mean for it to happen but I'm pregnant!" Her face drops for a moment before it goes into older sister mode. The sympathetic, kind sister mode, which is extremely close to mom mode for her.
"Oh darling," she kisses my hair. Her arms wrapping around me as I sobbed. She held me until I hiccuped and handed me a Kleenex. We drive to her condo as she parks she looks over towards me.
"Matt is picking up the boys from their mother so we have the place to ourselves for another hour. You can tell me all about it." She tells me gently as she walks me into the building, the elevator ride was quiet as I sniffled.