"Do you think I'm spoiled?" I ask Ken curiously as I sit on the passenger side of the car as Ken drives out to his parent's summer house.
"Why do you ask?" He asks clearly uncertain with my question.
"Someone at school called me a spoiled princess, and I don't think I'm spoiled. I mean I know mom and dad make good money but it's not like I got everything I ever wanted, not one bit." I tell him.
"I don't think you're necessarily spoiled," Ken says carefully.
"Necessarily spoiled?" I asked him raising an eyebrow.
"Yes, you're privileged you had opportunities that others may not have, but that doesn't make you spoiled. No in the way they think of you're spoiled. You don't walk around in name brand clothing or expensive purses, no one got cars for their sixteenth birthday in your family did they?" Ken asks and I shake my head.
"No, I just have my parents spend a couple of grand in baby things," I sigh, "So, I'm not a brat what am I then?"
"If I learned anything from history and anthropology classes is that things haven't changed much for young women. Especially ones who come from well-off families, or very religious households. We protect our women and it comes as a disadvantage to them at times. Depending on circumstances of course and time era, but historically speaking for a long time if they run away from the life or are forced to leave it. They often don't know how to survive and can be taken advantage of, looked down upon. Which leads a lot of women and girls to marry within it to keep them their world in abusive marriages, or ones of convenience, because they needed security." He tries to explain. I just look at him like he was speaking another language. "You're naive. You may have not asked for things, but at the same time, you've wanted for nothing. You've lived in privilege which had made you sheltered at the same time. We may not be trust fund babies that you see on T.V, but none of us know what it's like on the other side of the fence.
"I'm Naive?" I repeat frowning.
"You went to a college party, got drunk and slept with someone who ended up being me?" Ken says with a raised eyebrow. "Without truly thinking about any sort of consequences or you just brushed them off. Yes, Rilla, naive, but I was just as naive as well to just assume that finding a wrapper meant we were safe. But being naive isn't bad, it just means that you're young and learning. Your classmates may see you as spoiled because they know your father is a doctor and you live in one of the nicer houses. Except they don't know the inner workings of your family. They don't know what goes on, just the same you don't know what their life is like."
I nod my head.
"If anything, having my mother as principal only makes me more a social pariah," I say sighing as I turn looking towards the side of the highway, which was just a barely paved road.
"I didn't realize they still had this place," I say out loud.
"It's been in the family for most likely a century at this point," Ken tells me as he passes a picnic area. "Hungry?" He asks me and I shake my head.
"Eating in cars gives me motion sickness, I'm nauseous enough as it is," I tell him.
"Why didn't you say something?" Ken glances at me concerned.
"Because I'm always nauseous lately?" I say with a shrug, "Apparently it can be common enough in the third trimester, I don't throw up, or haven't yet anyway. But I'm just constantly queazy," I tell him.
"Why haven't you said anything," he says with a sigh.
"If I told you everything that happens in a day from being pregnant you wouldn't believe me," I try to explain that I didn't mean it out of spite.
"Try me?" Ken said giving me a look.
"Well, I the obvious I pee every 20-40 minutes, more than once she has kicked me hard enough that I actually peed myself. If I eat too much at once it makes me sick, if I don't eat enough It makes me sick. If I eat something I'm craving that I'm not used to eating, I get sick." I tell him taking a breath. "Actually if I talk too much or quickly I lose my breath, and then she kicks my lungs so hard at times I gasped for air," another breath.
"I get leg cramps that are worse than the ones I felt in ballet. I'm gassy all the time and yes that is why leave the room and go out on the balcony complaining I am too hot. Though I am constantly overheated as well, I'm a lady and I'm not passing gas in front of you,"
Ken chuckles at the last one, shaking his head. "Well, luckily the drive isn't that far," he tells me. "And if you need to…we'll crack open a window?" I glare at him and reach to turn up the radio ignoring him. Still, he smiles as I sing along to the radio which was current charting songs.
Ken parks the car and helps me out of the passenger side as he grabs overnight bags from the backseat and I take my pillow. Tessa had been more than happy to let me have the Saturday off, so I could come out with Ken. I briefly explained that I was staying with the father of my baby, over the next two weeks. She knows bits and pieces of the story but I had to tell her the full story at this point. I probably never will.
I smile at him as Leslie is already swinging the door open for us.
"You made it!" She greets us both with a kiss on the cheek.
"We did, but can we hold on a moment?" Ken tells his mother knowing I was practically holding onto a thread after what felt like someone was bouncing on my bladder. "There is a bathroom down the hall to the right," he tells me he takes my pillow.
I only nod my head and speed walk towards it as I hear Leslie laugh beautifully behind me. I make use of the bathroom and wash my hands before I exit. I look towards the front door to find Ken and Leslie gone from their spot. I look at them around, trying to remember it from old memories, I cross the hall looking around them, but instead, I run into Owen. I would be lying if he didn't frighten me slightly. Even dressed casually as he was, It still felt like he felt like I had done this on purpose.
"They went upstairs I believe," he says to me. "I have someone who wants to say hello to you though," he says to me, he leads me into the back of the house, into the living room.
"Rilla you remember Thea?" he asks me and I nod my head, even though I had been young.
"You've grown up," Thea says with a smile. She was how I remembered her as a child to an extent. Her dark brown hair was done up with caramel highlights, her eyes were a dark blue, darker than Owens. She was few inches taller than me and had a classic hourglass shape, then again she had to be about forty.
"So it seems," I say awkwardly, "We were surprised to know you were here," I say trying to say something to her."
"Well, I figured it's been while I had been out this way, when Leslie mention they were visiting so I booked some time off. I live in New Brunswick so it's never a far drive and with Max with his father for the week of spring break. I figured why not break free and drink a bunch of wine!" Thea said with a laugh. "Though seeing you and Ken is lovely as well."
I nod my head. I already know Ken thinks his father set this up. Annoyed thinking it was his father's way to remember that this baby will be our child and not a pawn in a chess game.
"There you are," I hear Leslie before I see her. "I see you found Thea and Owen," she says cheerfully.
"They found me," I correct her as I feel Ken come up behind me from the smell of his cologne.
"So what's the plan for today?" Ken asks for us.
"Dinner, of course, you fathers going to clean out the fire pit so if you wish to help with that it would be kind of you. I thought us girls could go up to the shore for a walk?" Leslie says to Ken and then looks at me. "If you're up for it anyway?"
"A short walk will be nice," I say after judging the current state of my body, even though Ken looks like he doesn't completely trust the situation. He's wary of his sister being here naturally. Given everything that brought us here together today.
"We'll make sure she doesn't overdo it," Thea speaks up. "If anything we know what to watch out for," she says with a smile. Within the next half hour, we were already down at the shore.
"So grade eleven?" Thea asks after a quiet silence as we walk up to the beach. Leslie had already run into a neighbour. I nod my head meekly. "Such a big year, almost more important than grade twelve in a way?"
"I guess so, mine hasn't been normal obviously," I say unsure of how to answer her "Max is your son?" I ask carefully. I mean it could be a girl these days after all.
"Yes, he's 12, prefers his father to his mother these days but it's all good. Less laundry to do and weird smells from his bedroom." She laughs.
"What would you do if he came home at sixteen and said he got someone pregnant?" I ask curiously.
"Oh, goodness straight to the questions," Thea laughed lightly. "Disappointed I suppose, a dash of angry? I heard all about you and Ken, I partly didn't believe it at first, I thought Owen was pulling my leg."
I noticed for the first time she didn't call Owen, Dad.
"It was, still is a messy situation," I say shrugging. "We're managing though, it just hard at times trying to figure out the situation." I stop for a moment and press down not so gently on the side of my stomach. "Foot in a rib syndrome lately."
"Don't have to explain that to me," Thea smiles as she waits for me to begin walking once more.
The best thing about the Ford Summerhouse was the fire pit, it had been when we were kids, and now it still was. Leslie had run into some neighbour on our short walk and invited them over later that night for a drink and fire. Mrs. Elliot and Mrs. Douglas they called themselves.
We were all in sweaters and woollen socks but it was a nice night and Leslie had bought things for s'mores and hotdogs to be roasted. While the older women had glasses of wine, and Owen had his beer while Ken had a diet coke and I sat there with warm chai tea of all things. Ken and I sat on a wicker love seat.
I set my marshmallow on fire, just so I could watch it burn before blowing it out. I smile at Ken as I eat the melty treat. Marshmallows have always been a weakness of mine, and he was beginning to realize that when I was on my fourth one. I think he was just happy that I was enjoying myself. I knew I would later regret it, but right now I didn't care, I didn't want to care, I tried not to care for a change. I even happily allowed myself s'mores. Licking chocolate from my fingertips as I tried not to make a mess of myself as Ken and Owen played around on acoustic guitars. If Ken was good, Owen was talented as they played a bunch of songs my father would play in the car or songs Joy would know. The baby was moving around as if she was dancing along, enjoying the music that surrounded her. She always enjoyed hearing Ken sing, and tonight was no different.
I must have been watching, staring at him as he played because when he finally finished his song, our eyes met as we tried to see who would break contact first.
"Oh dear, just kiss him already, don't worry about us old folks," One of the older ladies tells me. We quickly both break out of our trance. Even Leslie and Owen have a look on their face that is peculiar. They haven't seen just how we were like together. Maybe my parents who stressed that this wasn't a good idea…were right?
Thankfully were saved by the other neighbour who spoke up before anyone could demand us to kiss again.
"Both of you are so good-looking, that child will be blessed, I always say it's best to have children young when you can keep up with them. Do you plan on going back to school? What were you taking?" She asks rapidly. She thinks I'm in college, she thinks I'm closer to Ken's age and not sixteen. I look to Leslie who was looking at Owen, who was looking at me.
"French, and most likely," I lie. God, they think we're a couple, and it didn't help that I blushed through an entire song that Ken had played.
"You speak French?" Mrs. Elliot spoke up.
"Oui," I say, and rattle off some sentence that showed off my talent, trying to ignore how close Ken was to me at this point. Was that his arm around me? How long had he been sitting like that?
"You're embarrassing the poor girl, Ellen" Owen speaks up for us. "Though while excited for the new arrival, It would have been best if they had both finished school." He says setting the record straight.
"Of course, I let my tongue run away for a moment." She said.
It hits me suddenly a wave over my stomach. Too many marshmallows, I know it instantly as I say nothing other than excuse me as go inside and hid towards the bathroom. Each step quicker than the last.
"I thought you didn't get sick?" Ken appears.
"Well, tell that to the idiot who ate half a bag of marshmallows," I groan from the floor and I see a look cross his face. As if he was wondering if this was more than an upset stomach. "Really I ate too much, I promise you that I haven't actively tried to make myself throw up since I was fourteen years old. It didn't work then, it won't work now," I tell him honesty which only makes him look sadder.
"I think I am going to head to bed," I tell him when he doesn't ask anything more about it.
"Of course," Ken nods his head. "I'll let everyone know," he tells me standing there, it takes a moment before he swiftly kisses the top of my head and pats my stomach before taking his leave.
I settle in the guest room I was given for the night, which I feel like was Persis's at one point. I grab my pyjamas and my toiletries and wash my face in the bathroom across the hall from my room. At the end of it, I lay in the bed, wrapped around my pillow enough that I could be comfortable as I played on my phone. Texting Nan back who had been on a date with Jerry, and Di who sent me a photo of the dress she was making for class. Jem had sent me a funny meme that I laughed at and found one to send back to him, while Walter asked how I was faring up at the summer house.
I was still awake when I heard Ken come up and into his room. I wait a few minutes before I gather myself up and pillow and tiptoe across the hallways and knock on his door.
"I can't sleep," I whisper.
Ken yawns and lets me in before closing the door behind him. I make myself comfortable on his bed wrapping myself around my pillow. Ken settles in on the other side on his back as grabs his iPad and puts on a movie for us, that would be propped up on his stomach. While he settles his one hand on the curve of my stomach. It doesn't take long as feels the constant weight of his hand and she herself settles down as I yawn. What would I do when I went back home? I swear the best sleep I got lately was because he was around. That was a worry for another day.
It was a rude awakening the next morning when I woke up to hearing Ken outside of his room arguing with his father.
"I told you to be friends, not become star-crossed barely legal lovers!"
"Seriously Dad, we were sleeping, only sleeping. Though really would did you expect to happen by throwing us together for two weeks? Don't you remember what it likes to see someone you care about carry your child?" Ken argues back quietly. There was a moment of silence, before he continued, a bit more subdued. "She sleeps better if I'm around, it probably the only time she actually will sleep this weekend. We watch some movies, we sleep nothing else. We are from Romeo and Juliet in this, no one is proposing running off and getting married, nor is anything else happening." I conclude that a response to the star-crossed lovers that Owen called us.
My mind goes back to him saying he cared about me, a mutual feeling. We care, but we don't allow much for anything else.
"Just be careful Ken, don't lead her on if this isn't what you want in the long wrong," I hear Owen say quietly.
"We don't know what will happen, Dad, we're just going at this one day at a time," Was Ken's response as vague as ever.
I pretend to be asleep when I hear Ken come back into his room.
"It's time to wake up sleepy-head," he says to me, shaking my bare leg that I had out to keep me cool underneath all the blankets. They were badly shaven, but it was better than nothing at this point in this pregnancy.
"More sleep," I grumble into the pillow.
"Mom has breakfast ready for us, some fruit salad and scrambled eggs," Ken tried to entice me out of bed. "Coffee? Half-cafe, which means you can have two cups of it?"
I open my eyes, to see his grey ones looking at me. He was smiling down at me.
I let him help me out of bed before I make my way to the washroom. I brush my teeth and go back to my room and decide to wear one of my dresses. I end up eating a small plate of eggs and a bowl of fruit and savour my cup of coffee as everyone makes plans for the day. Leslie and Thea were going to walk into the village to look for a few things.
"Is the old book and antique shop still there?" Ken asks looking up.
"It is, and he's usually open Sundays," Leslie nodded her head. "What about Rilla?"
"I actually have some homework to look over and finish up," I tell her frowning. "But a quiet day in will be good for me, I'll just slow everyone down," I urge them to go on without it.
It was mid-morning when I growl and let out a tiny shriek as I toss aside my speech.
"I don't mean to intrude," A voice says from the entryway of the library door that he knocked on. "But would you like some help?
"Sorry? Help?" I say a little flabbergasted by Owen's sudden appearance, wasn't he fishing or something?
"With your speech? Report?" Owen says, reminding me at that moment his job was essentially public speaking. Except it was on air to millions of Canadians, daily.
"History report, but sure, anything will help at this point?" I tell him with a sigh, Owen smiles kindly at me and sits on the arm of one of the armchairs.
"First off, you were rushing. We often think rushing through something will get things over with more quickly but in public speaking and most things in life. It works against us," He tells me waiting for me to nod my head.
"So slow down?" I ask him trying to understand his statement.
"Yes, slow down and take care of what you are saying. It will hold the audience and fool them thinking you know what you are talking about."
"You make it seem like you fool people often?" I ask Owen, who in return chuckles.
"That is for us to know and for the public to never know" he smiles at me. "Try it again, but slower and don't worry about the audience, just talk, explain with some passion."
"What no picturing people in their underwear?" I joke to him trying to delay the start of my report.
"I suppose you could if it is a crowd of people, but that doesn't work well in small groups as such?" Owen cracks a crooked smile I've grown to see often enough. Because Ken had the same. He waves his hand telling me when I am ready. Suddenly I realize what I had conveyed by asking and felt my face go red. God, I was naive!
"Shall we begin?" Owen says to me picking up my papers for me. "If you wish to anyway?"
I nod my head, taking the deepest breath I could at the moment, then I begin. Being careful to explain, tell and act as if I cared about this paper. I finish it and look to Owen who smiles at me.
"Good," Owen says he gets up and moves to another spot, this time out of my sight. "Again, but this time don't watch me, but just know that I am listening." He tells me. I nod my head and start over again and then again as he switched back to in front of me, he has me sit down at one point in one of the chairs and say it from there.
I place my hand on my back as I lower myself into a chair. Slowing down did making getting through the report easier, but at the same time, it allowed me to actually breathe. Though I am sure if I got kicked in the ribs my teacher wouldn't hold it against me.
Owen gets up and hands me my water bottle that was on the nearby table. "You know you would make a good personality for a media if you ever wished for it. You have the looks, take corrections well and have a good voice for it." He tells me. "Not saying that you shouldn't try for your passion, but if you need an alternative. I know talent when I see it, and if you speak French that is even better on a resume as well."
"Thank you?" I say unsure of what else to say. He was about to leave the room when I felt the need to blurt it out. "There's nothing between Ken and me romantically, he wasn't lying when he said I sleep better with him around. It just happened, he was sleeping on the couch for the first few nights. He seems like the only one who can calm down this one from keeping me up all night. That's all that happens, really I'm eight months pregnant THAT is the last thing in my mind." I tell him. "Really we're just trying to make the best of a weird situation, he's nothing but appropriate, if anything I'm the one pushing all the boundaries around him."
"You are very much like your mother in many ways," Owen tells me. "You're not afraid, to be honest when it means you clear another name. Though you are far more practical like your father in how you go about it."
"I've always been told I am a good mix of them," I say nodding my head.
"I would like to apologize about last week, I should have never suggested or gone along with your mother's plan. As an adult, we should have listened more to your father about putting any more undue stress on you."
"Thank you," I say quietly. "I do miss home, but at the same time and I don't mean to be sound spoiled as they have done a lot. Being supportive as they can be about this whole thing, but it's nice to not feel like the household disappointment?"
"So you just have to show them that this baby isn't the end of the world for you," Owen said with a small smile. "Between your parents, you should have oodles of ambition and resilience to overcome hurdles that life brings to your door. You may have dance still at the forefront of your mind as a career. Which won't be easy, but you are coming up with alternatives that will help you transition later on in life, or have a fallback career one day. I meant what I said and if you are ever interested in a media presentation, I can always show you around the CBC studios one day."
I nod my head. "I'll try to remember," as my stomach rumbles. Owen chuckles.
"Come let's find some lunch shall we? You still like tomato sandwiches?" he asks me. I smile and nod my head and follow him to the kitchen where we eat lunch before I decide to take a short walk to the beach.
I was reading one of my pregnancy books when Ken sits down beside me in the sand. Pulling out a book from his back pocket. Putting it down beside him on the bench.
" So my dad apologized to me," he says as if he knows I heard them this morning. "He realized that he could have been wrong about this morning and it been a long time for him. But thinking about it, he can understand how hard it might be for both of us right now."
"He's a father," I say out loud to which I think I shocked Ken about slightly. "He's no different than my dad or any other dad out there. He's just trying to do what we're about to do…be a parent."
Ken nods his head and picks up the book he brought.
"I found this in the little bookstore today that Mom and I stopped at," Ken says handing it to me.
"What's in a name?" I read out loud, before realizing it was an old book about names.
"Go to the bookmark," he says with a smile and I flip to the page. Still slightly puzzled.
"Elowen," he says to me out loud, pronouncing it slowly for me. El-Oh-En. "It's Cornish, it means Elm Tree, it's a girl's name, similar to Eowyn, but not so token fandom name that will have people scratching their head wondering what sort of parents are we. Also despite my father's hard exterior, he is a good man and I think she would be honoured to have part of his name." Ken explains to me.
"We can still call her Owen for short?" I look at him.
"If you want, or Ellie, or Winnie," Ken said shaking his head.
"Elowen," I let it roll off my tongue. "Do you like that?" I ask my stomach and it takes a moment to get a steady rhythm of kicks from her. "I think she likes it," I tell him. "Do you like it truly?"
"Would I have shown you if I hadn't?" Ken smiles at me, and it is true and I can only imagine he was fine with some outlandish name considering his love of history.
"Elowen," I say again with a smile on my face. "We won't tell anyone until she arrives?" I look to him, rather afraid of having people laugh at it, at least if we announced the name when she was here, it would cruel to mock it.
Thank you all for reading! I hope everyone is enjoying the story if you ever have questions or comments please let me know! I adore talking to readers and knowing what you think! Please don't be Shy!
Tina