Page 58 of SnowBound

I hiccupped. “I-I… There’s nothing they can do. It’s over, Ellie. My dream is—” I breathed in a shaky gulp of air. “My dream is over. I’ll never be a music executive.” With a protective hand, I cradled my belly. It wasn’t my baby’s fault. I wasn’t even mad at Andy either. Just at the circumstances. And the lack of open-mindedness of an archaic system that had never been thought through for women. Guys too had babies in college, but they were never forced to take time off or abandon their education to give birth to them or care for them. It wasn’t fair. I was a dedicated student. A good student. At the top of my classes. If I had been sick instead of pregnant, they would have made an exception. The supervisor told me. Having cancer treatment would have been okay but not having a baby. In what twisted world were we living in?

As we walked back to the dorm, I held on to my best friend, while emptying—once again—my tear well. Being sad was exhausting.

Around eight that night, I zipped up my suitcase and announced, “I’m done. I finished packing.”

“You sure you won’t appeal the decision?” Ellie asked, watching me from her bed.

“Nah. It’s too many emotions. I can’t deal with that right now. Stress isn’t good for either of us. The nurse told me at my last appointment. I need some time off to assess my options.”

“The apartment offer is still standing.”

“Thanks. I think I wanna be home for a while. Find my bearings.”

“What about your parents? They’re not the most welcoming people on Earth. Their ideas are pretty limited.”

“They are my parents. I’m sure once the shock passes and they see I’m fully invested in making this work, they’ll be more than happy to give me a hand. What else can they do? Not talk to me until the baby is eighteen? It makes no sense. I believe they still have a heart in there somewhere. And that room over the garage, it’s small, but it could make a great apartment. For now. I just need to find some courage inside me to face them.”

A voice in my head told me convincing my parents wouldn’t be as easy as I let my friend believe, but I didn’t want her to worry about me. She had done more than her share since the day all seven pregnancy tests had turned out positive.

“Whatever you do, Abby, you’ll be amazing. Just don’t give up on all your ambitions because, down the road, you’ll be bitter if you do.”

“Elles, I don’t wanna abandon all my dreams, but I have this little one to think of first.” I inhaled, trying to keep a fresh batch of tears at bay. “One day, I’ll make it. No matter how long it takes, I will not stop until I get there. I promise.”

“I’m proud of you.” She paused. “What about Andy? Are you still gonna try to find him?”

I nodded. “He has a right to know. I have faith that one day we’ll meet again. Until then, I’ll do my best to make up for his absence.”

“What time is your flight?”

“Eight-fifteen tomorrow morning.”

“I’ll drive you to the airport.”

“No need. I can grab a cab. You don’t have to wake up early for me.”

Ellie sat beside me and rested her hand on my thigh. “I insist. Told you already. I’ll do everything I can to help you out. I’ll miss you like crazy next year. I can’t believe how narrow-minded this college is.”

“And she had a framed picture of her three daughters on her desk. I don’t get it. She’s a mother. She should know better and fight for our rights.”

“This is unfair. And misogynistic. They’re making a big mistake.”

My friend wasn’t an overly emotional person, so I hugged her when I saw moisture shining in her eyes. “Thank you for being you.” I kissed her cheek, and after we both got ready for bed, we slid under her comforter and watched a movie on her laptop for the very last time in my too-short collegial life.

* * *

In the driveway of my parents’ home, with two pieces of luggage at my feet, I took the biggest breath my lungs could hold. This was it. The day I would tell my parents all about the new developments in my life. Deep down, I prayed they would hug me and promise me everything would be all right. That they would help me find a solution so I could finish my degree while being a single mother. I only had two years left before graduation. I didn’t want to have to choose between my baby and my education. Women were entitled to have both. I did too.

My eyes trailed the freshly painted white wooden siding and the red front door. The immaculate flowerbeds and hedges that looked like they were featured in a photo spread of a home decor magazine. And the shiny new SUV with chrome wheels sitting before the three-door garage.

My mother spent all her time at home, cooking and cleaning. Even though they had a maid coming twice a week to help her out. When I was little, she had a career of her own. My father came from money and ran for Congress when I turned fourteen. The jovial and happy man I knew from my childhood was gone from that day as he tried to impress the political scene with outdated ideas which made no sense in our actual world. Ideas that sent us, as a society, sixty years in the past. And mostly affected women’s rights. And for a reason I never comprehended, my mother stopped fighting for her own rights—and mine—and stuck by his side and embraced his political ambitions, no matter the cost. She traded her flight attendant career for a stay-at-home slash trophy wife position. And the genuine and warm curl of her lips for a plastic smile that was void of any human emotions.

I often wondered how they could have forgotten everything they were for this new conservative ideology. What happened to them that made them become ghosts of themselves?

In the last five years, my parents had started hanging out with similar refractory people who didn’t believe in higher education for women and felt religion should rule the world with doctrines of the past.

My friends from high school all came from families who adhered to my parents’ beliefs. Over the years, I’d become a loner. In between the required appearance at church and other obligations my parents thrust on me, I spent most of my time on my own, reading and dreaming about my life outside of here.

My parents would complain about my taste in music, arts, and fiction reading.