CHAPTER 16
Belinda spent that night at Liza's, who knew enough not to ask Belinda where she had been and who had enough empathy to know that Belinda's secret was hurting her terribly. Her friend's smile was tense, not as open and warm as Liza knew it to be. She knew it wouldn't help to pry, so she could only hope that her friend would come to her when she felt ready to talk.
The next morning, Belinda accepted the keys to her new apartment. After taking inventory of the supplies she would need for cleaning, for the kitchen, and to replace rough sheets and towels the building management provided, she headed out to Target and a housewares store, returning home laden with bags. She put the place in order and also unpacked many of the clothes she had brought. She would have plenty more to bring with her when she left home for school in a few weeks. After a mostly sleepless night in her new apartment, the first place she had ever lived alone, Belinda woke up and headed for home, stopping to fill up her car and to call Liza and thank her for her kindness and hospitality.
The next two weeks were frenetic. Now at the end of July and needing to leave for school before long, Sam was joined at the construction site most days by Mr. Sims, making Belinda's visits short and polite. Sam was gone often in the evenings trying to fulfill as many speaking requests as he could. For her part, Belinda spent every day for a week at the upholsterers, learning how to recover the kitchen chairs and stools. When they were finally delivered, everyone made a big deal over the new look of the room, praising Belinda to the stars. Belinda made sure to point out that her mother's changes to her plan where the basis of what they were looking for; it never hurt to give Susannah's ego a stroke.
She took her final exam in history and got an A, then buckled down to finishing her statistics class. That meant real studying with help from Sam, not pretending to study while getting licked or fingered or fucked or sucked to heavenly oblivion. They managed to find time to be alone together every few days though, their lovemaking more passionate, reflecting the growing depth of their feelings and the commitment they had made during their weekend away.
After a week and a half, Belinda began to suspect that their unprotected sex had borne fruit. She normally had a blemish or two by the time her cycle arrived, but her face looked radiantly clear. She felt none of the moodiness normally caused by PMS, and her breasts felt tender and swollen when she put on a bra or if anything pressed against her chest. Driving again to a town where she wouldn't bump into a friend of her parents, she purchased a package of home pregnancy tests, the famous POAS...Pee On A Stick. Belinda had held the hand of more than one of her sorority sisters as they waited for the results, which had always been happily negative. Belinda didn't know what outcome would make her happy. She knew she and Sam were meant for each other and she didn't regret the decision she had made that day in the B&B, but at the same time she was terrified.
She waited until the 28th day of her cycle, a bit early for her period to come, but not unheard of, then locked herself in her bathroom and followed the instructions. Five minutes later found herself looking at a very bright blue plus sign.
She was going to have a baby . . . a baby with Sam. It took a good hour for her to compose herself. Scared, excited, overjoyed and terrified, she alternated between laughing and crying. At least she would be done with school by the time the baby came, she told herself, and if she dressed right, she should be able to carry off a Thanksgiving visit home without showing.
She disposed of the tell-tale stick, taking the bag from her bathroom trash basket outside to the larger cans. With no one in the kitchen, she slipped down the hall to Sam's room, hiding the extra test in his drawer in case he wanted to see for himself. She texted Sam to find out if he was alone at work; he was. Mr. Sims was out running errands. Belinda felt like she was sleepwalking as she went down to the construction site, or perhaps watching a dream or a movie that was happening to someone else.
"I'm pregnant," she dropped the news with no preliminaries. Sam stood stock still for a moment, then looked around.
"This isn't how I wanted to do it, but I want you to know something right away." He fumbled in one of the side pockets of his cargo work shorts and fished out a square velvet box with a domed lid. It had arrived two days ago and he had spent a lot of time while he worked dreaming of a romantic setup to ask Belinda to be his wife . . . and this was not it. Covered in sweat and mud, he asked her, "I want you to marry me Lindy. I'll wait if you want, but I'd rather do it as soon as possible. I ordered this from our family's jeweler in Chicago while we were away together. It came yesterday."
Belinda opened the box. Inside was a stunning diamond ring. The large oval diamond was set length-wise in a white gold setting, with a band that sparked with pave-set diamonds. It was breathtaking.
"I had it custom-made, but if there is anything you don't like or if you want to start from scratch, I can have it remade."
Belinda closed the box and handed it back to Sam. He didn't understand what was happening. Wasn't she supposed to say yes?
"How soon is soon? Can we get married this weekend?" she was asking.
Sam was happy, but still baffled. "You do want to get married? You don't like the ring?" he sputtered.
"I love the ring, Sam. The ring is perfect. I can't even begin to imagine a more perfect ring. . . . But how am I going to explain it if someone finds it in my room?"
Sam saw her logic. "Okay, I'll keep it in my room. It's ready when you are. And as far as us getting married, I'll get on the phone right now. I'll get us married as soon as possible. If not this weekend, we'll go to a courthouse on Monday," Sam assured her. In fact, it took only one phone call; a pastor who had hosted Sam for a speaking event listened to Sam's story and said he could meet with them either Saturday or Sunday and marry them.
The next day, Sam quite honestly said he had a meeting with a pastor and couldn't work, while Belinda quite honestly reported that she had an errand to run. They drove separately, with Sam leaving earlier in the day. The church was far enough away from home turf that Sam felt confident no one they knew would see them, but still, they parked behind the church and went in the back door. Pastor Richman asked the pair to sit down for a short premarital counseling session.
"Normally I do this over several weeks or even months, but I'd still like to ask some questions." He enquired about how they met and fell in love, which they narrated with juicy bits edited down to the bare bones. He asked about their families, honing in on whether Belinda truly understood what being cut off from her family would mean, as well as the pressure she might be under being in a mixed-race relationship.
The pastor told them he understood, but didn't approve of, their plan to keep the marriage a secret until Belinda graduated in December. Then there were more basic questions about their physical compatibility—they weren't much worried about that—and their views on other issues that caused marital problems: money, children, religion. It was a comfortable meeting, more of a talk among friends, right up until the point that Pastor Richman turned to Belinda and said, "Are you really ready to be a mother? Wouldn't getting rid of the baby be a better answer?"
Steadily, calmly, Belinda drew herself from the chair. Drawing on everything her time as a debutante had taught her about deportment, she said, in her most dignified Southern belle diction, "Pastor Richman, I am so sorry we have wasted your valuable time." With that, she walked out the back door of the church and got into Sam's car.
Sam looked at the pastor, stricken. "I told you she was expecting. If it was a problem, why did you let us come down here? I would have called someone else!"
As he started for the door, the preacher stopped him. Pastor Richman tried to explain that he still intended to marry them, he just wanted to make sure Belinda knew her own mind and had thought the situation through. Relieved, Sam raced to the car. Belinda was sitting in the passenger seat of the car, staring dead-eyed ahead, breathing deeply and with her hands across her belly. "It's okay, baby, we can get married right now." Sam repeated what the pastor had said to him.
Belinda wouldn't looked at him. As if it came from someplace far away, he heard Belinda's voice, the same voice she had used on the pastor. It was cold and hard. "No, we cannot get married right now. We can wait until Monday and go to the courthouse. We can find a drunken justice of the peace who would marry a goat and a monkey if the price was right, but that man will not marry me. And I will not step foot inside that church again."
Sam tried to explain again the pastor's motives, which he thought he understood. Finally, Belinda turned her head and looked at him, her eyes full of pain, but no sign of tears. "I plan on being married to you for the rest of my life, Sam. And if he marries us, for the rest of our lives the signature on our marriage license will have been put there by a man who suggested I kill or give away our baby. A baby we made a choice to have together." She hugged her hands tightly across her belly.