Karen's Dilemma

No such luck, it was still there, as she knew it would be, just like the one before. She rummaged in her bag for the third one, tore open the packet and headed for the bathroom. She waited anxiously for the result to be displayed, counting the minutes, hoping against hope for a different result this time. These tests aren't always reliable, she told herself. Who was she fooling?

She flicked on the kettle and made a cup of coffee, the aroma of the hot, steaming liquid assailed her nostrils. On a normal day, she would have embraced that smell, inhaled it in and relished it, but today, it made her nauseous. She added milk, gave it a stir and gulped a large mouthful. It tasted vile! Her stomach heaved and she headed for the bathroom once again, to empty the contents of her stomach into the toilet bowl. Her head swam, she felt cold and clammy, her stomach churned but surely, there was nothing left to throw up. There wasn't, but that didn't stop her system trying and once again, she knelt over the toilet bowl and retched!

When she had recovered enough to stand, she threw some water on her face and neck, dried herself and dared to go back into the living room and sure enough, there it was, another blue +.

"This can't be happening" she told herself again, but it was! It was! She sat on the sofa, head in her hands and cried, gently at first, her tears streaming down her face and plopping softly onto the plum coloured rug she had chosen with care for her new apartment only last month. She had needed a fresh start, after ...everything!

Gradually, her anguish overtook her and she began to sob, her shoulders heaved as her heart felt like it would burst right out of her chest. The crying became louder. Long, moaning, guttural cries, like a child who has experienced the injustice of this world for the first time and longs to be held and comforted and told that everything will be okay. Only for Karen, there was no one to hold her, or comfort her, or make everything all right. Well, no-one in whom she cared to confide at the moment.

Her head swirled, images of her parents, their voices echoing in her brain. She was their pride and joy, their only child. She thought about them, their pride in her when she achieved her honours degree, when she passed her exams to become one of the youngest chartered accountants in the country, when she secured a full time position with a very reputable firm.

She loved her parents very much, but such pride and high expectations from them always made her feel under pressure, to never let them down. Then again, Karen always had very high expectations of herself, always wanted to be the best and her life had been going according to a well-laid plan... until now!

She thought about her their unconcealed happiness when she finally ended the relationship with Mark. They had never approved of him, she knew that. They were right, of course. She knew that now. She knew it all along, if she were honest! Still, it had not been easy to admit that it was over.

She hadn't even told them the gory details. She still loved him you see and by some crazy sense of loyalty, she didn't want them to think any less of him than they already did. The connection with Mark had been instantaneous from the very moment they had met....

****************

"Damn"... she swore, as she dropped her keys on the pavement. She struggled to pick them up, rain trickling down the back of her coat collar now, umbrella in tatters, as she tried to hold onto her briefcase, her handbag and the Boots Pharmacy paper bag which was slowly disintegrating, it's contents threatening to spill all over the pavement.

A moment later, lip gloss, shampoo, hair colour, tampons went flying in all directions as the rain-soaked bag finally gave up the ghost. Her packet of tampons tumbled off the pavement and were intercepted in their skating movement by a shiny black shoe. She looked up, having retrieved the other items and shoved them into her handbag....

Shiny black shoes, dark suit, crombie coat, umbrella. There he was, dark eyes surveying her with interest, his eyes twinkling... did she detect a hint of amusement in his demeanour? He picked up the tampons and said "Here you go, you look like you could use a couple more hands"!, He looked so confident and self-assured. Blood surged to her cheeks and she couldn't stop herself, she knew she was blushing, she felt mortified. Her cheeks burned, water dripped from her auburn curls onto to her face, so wet was she by now.

She grabbed the packet of tampons from his hand, her anger rising. It had been a difficult day. This was the final straw! Why did she never meet good-looking guys like him when she was coming out of the hairdressers? Or the beauty salon? "Thank you", she snapped, before stumbling into the coffee shop, grabbing a seat, unburdening herself of her bags and trying to regain her composure.

"Mind if I join you?"

There he was again... her nerves jangled and she struggled not to show her irritation She didn't want to be rude. After all, he had rescued her tampons! Tampons! Her cheeks flushed again. She wished he would go away. She looked around, hoping that there would be many empty seats from which he could choose, but the place was wedged. Friday evenings were always busy. What could she do.... "Yea, ok, no problem", she stuttered, trying to remain dignified. It was difficult, under the circumstances.

"Hi, I'm Mark", he ventured. "Karen", she replied, curtly.

"Let me get you a coffee", he offered "You look like you could use one"!

He was at the counter before she had time to object and returned with two Americano's and two warm scones, with butter and jam.

"I hope you like scones",

"I do, thank you" she replied.

Well, at least he's got good manners, she thought, her irritation starting to abate, now that she was inside, warm and dry, the smell of coffee and freshly baked confectionery making her salivate. It had been a long time since breakfast and she hadn't had time for lunch.

She tried to guess what he worked at. Finance, she decided. Turned out she was wrong. "Never judge a book by its' cover", he said. "I don't normally wear suits, but I've been to a funeral this morning, my great-uncle. I'm actually a journalist". And so the conversation flowed!

Three coffees later, she glanced at her watch and realized.... 'Holy sh..!" Jenny, Louise and the girls...' He saw the alarm on her face and couldn't hide his disappointment when she told him she had to leave! It was her friends 30th birthday party tonight and she was the main organizer. Now she was late. She was late and she was torn. She wanted to leave but she desperately wanted to stay and hear more of what he had to say. 'Never mind! Can't be done!'

He shoved his hand into his pocket and produced his card. "Call me!", "Ok, sure.." she said. Same old, same old. Meet a guy, here's my number, call me, but usually she never did and neither did he!

Up to now it seemed, she hadn't had much time for dating. Well, nothing serious that is. She had had several teenage romances and she'd dated a couple of guys in college, but study had always been her top priority. She knew where she was going and how hard she had to work to get there. She wasn't going to let anything get in the way.

But this time she had decided to call him! Coffee, lunch, dinner, movies, theatre... one date seemed to follow another very quickly and before she knew it, Karen was waking up most mornings beside him. She had never been happier.... Or had she?

She tried to ignore the warning signs. "So, what.. everyone smokes weed from time to time" she told herself. But deep down she knew, this was more than "from time to time". She found herself checking the apartment every evening when she came in from work. Would there be evidence of his "using". She would search under beds and in wardrobes.

What would his mood be like? She became expert at gauging it. If he was smoking dope, he would be very relaxed, nothing was a problem, all was well with the world. She had noticed though, that he would be unable to remember whole conversations the next day.

Working as a freelance journalist meant he didn't have regular hours, so she never knew from day to day where he was, whether he would be home or not. He could be called away at short notice and be gone for several days.

Lately however, he seemed to be home more and more. Work was scarce, he declared. Yet she knew a couple of his colleagues, who didn't seem to have any difficulty finding work. This worried her greatly. She had begun to think about a future with him, but how could she contemplate a future with someone who might very well be an addict?

Despite the pitfalls, Karen just couldn't help herself. He was her drug. His razor-sharp intellect challenged her. They discussed all manner of things, politics, theatre, film, current affairs. She loved the way he became so animated and so passionate about whatever it was they were discussing.

Even when she disagreed with his point of view, she would sit back and watch him, how the veins stood out on his neck when he was angry, when injustice made his blood boil. His dark eyes would blaze with passion , and her own passions were stirred. She could never stay mad with him for long, she couldn't wait for him to wrap his arms around her and hold her close, to feel every muscle of his taut body pressed against her, stroking, touching, loving every last minute of him!

**********

If only she hadn't forgotten her 'phone that day! She was under enough pressure as it was, late for a meeting with her new boss, Mr. Griffith. She sat on the bus and swore! No time to turn back now! At least she had her laptop, she thought, as she patted it, reassuringly. She had finally finished preparing her presentation at 2 am. Mark was already snoring, sleeping on his back, his naked upper body looked like marble in the dim light of the room. She collapsed into bed, exhausted and fell fast asleep, curled up beside him, having set her alarm for six.

The bus was wedged. She hated buses, but parking was just such a hassle in town, so she endured it for convenience. Today was particularly bad. She managed to find the last seat and the bus edged out into the traffic. She looked out at the rain-swept city and sighed.

At the next stop, no one got off, an African lady got on. She looked heavily pregnant and seemed breathless, panting and struggling to bear the weight of the world and her imminent offspring!

The woman looked around for a seat, but found none. She glanced at the stairs, but obviously decided not to venture to the upper deck. Karen looked around,too, sheepishly, waiting for someone to get up and offer her their seat. No one moved. A couple in their twenties became suddenly engrossed in conversation. A middle-aged man concentrated very hard on his mobile phone. Everyone ignored her.

The woman looked flushed, little beads of perspiration dotted her forehead. She looked like she was about to faint. Karen could bear it no longer. She stood up and beckoned to the woman to take her seat. The look of gratitude on the woman's face was her reward.

The bus journey back to Drumcondra at lunch time seemed to take forever, but she had no choice. She needed her I-phone. It was her constant companion, her diary, her personal organizer, it contained vital information for the afternoon and being new in the accounting firm, there was no room for error. To miss an appointment with a client would be catastrophic.

She let herself into the flat and made her way to the kitchen, pondering what she might make for dinner this evening. She loved to cook and Mark loved his food. She took great pleasure in surprising him with her culinary delights.

She may as well have a coffee while she was there, she would have no time later, she knew very well. She threw off her shoes and flicked on the kettle.

She thought she heard voices, stopped suddenly in her tracks and listened. Alarmed, she realised she was not alone in the apartment, she tiptoed down the hall.

The rest was now a haze...bedroom door slightly ajar, . smell of smoke, ashtray on the bedside locker, two half finished joints, their naked bodies writhing together, lost in their own world of fire and passion, lustfully fulfilling their carnal desires, blissfully unaware of her presence. She gasped in horror, felt the blood drain from her.

She leaned against the wall, to compose herself, resisting the urge to scream, to rush in there and... and... and what? Scream and wail and demand an explanation? It was not her style! She turned around, tiptoed back to the kitchen, picked up her handbag, her shoes and her phone and quietly let herself out of the apartment.

In the bedroom, Mark thought he heard to front door close. Alarmed, he jumped out of bed and made for the door. No-one there. What was that, on the floor? He picked it up. Realisation dawned! "Fuuccckkk" he swore to himself as he headed back to the bedroom. He threw Karen's scarf on a chair and got back into bed.

For Karen, there was no going back to the apartment that night. She 'phoned her friend Jenny and asked if she could stay with her for a few days, until she found a new apartment.

"How could he", she had asked herself over and over as she tossed and turned in the night, or sat and stared blankly out of the window during the day. At work, she struggled on, determined not to let anything get in the way of her ambitions! She operated on two levels, like a swan, gliding gracefully along, exuding the appearance of stillness and calm on the surface, while underneath, all the while, unlike a swan, Karen struggled furiously to stay afloat.

If she expected him to call, to apologise, to beg her to return, to plead for her forgiveness, she was disappointed. No call. No text. Nothing.

She returned to his apartment two weeks later, to collect her belongings.

***********

She stared at the blue + and decided, "I can't do this! I just can't do this". "I know nothing about looking after babies"! Her next thought was "I'm doing well in my job, if I leave now to have a child, I will be back on the bottom rung of the ladder again and by God, I've worked too hard to get where I am". Having a child was not part of her plan.

Mr. Griffith had been very impressed with her of late and there had been hints about promotion. She needed to get on the property ladder. Time was moving on. Besides... it was Mark's child! She wanted nothing to do with him and nothing that was his! Her anger at him boiled once again and she thumped the cushion with her fist! "How could he.... bastard"! she thought.

Her mind was in turmoil, she couldn't think straight. What was she to do? She contemplated confiding in her friends but decided against it. She preferred to make her own decisions. In the past, when she sought advice, she got too many conflicting opinions and in the end, had always followed her own gut instinct. So far, it had served her well.

She thought of calling her mother and pictured what her reaction might be! She just couldn't bear the prospect of hearing "I told you so"!

She turned on her laptop and googled "Unplanned Pregnancy" A couple of hours later, she collapsed into bed, eyes red and swollen from crying, head pounding. She tossed and turned and wrestled with her decision until she finally fell asleep as the birds started to address the world with their melodic chorus, entreating it to embrace the new day.

When she awoke, it took her a few seconds to realise where she was but when she did, reality slammed down upon her like a gigantic slab of concrete, crushing her chest so that she could barely breathe. She burst into tears again, but just as quickly, realised it wouldn't do her any good, she just had to get up and get on with it, go to work and shut it away in a locked compartment of her mind and heart, until the day was over. Like a zombie, her head still pounding, she got up and showered.

It didn't take long to make all of the arrangements. Flights booked, appointment sorted. A weekend away in London was easy to organize. To her parents, it was work. To her colleagues, it was a family occasion. Once she had it all sorted, she could relax. No need to panic. If she had niggling doubts way down deep inside, she pushed them aside. There was no room for sentiment now, she told herself firmly. She had never been one for histrionics. Perhaps that's what made her such a good accountant!

Her mother was a drama queen, always exaggerating things, wanting to be the centre of attention. She should have been in Hollywood! It drove Karen crazy and she had always vowed never to be like her.

Only one more day to work and then she was off! The August bank holiday in Ireland was a working day in the UK, which suited her perfectly. All she needed was an extra day off. She would be back at work by Wednesday and everything would be back to normal, no-one would ever know.

She got on the bus, feeling very queasy. It was packed, as usual. She spotted an empty seat near the back and headed straight for it, gratefully. She sat there, hoping that the journey would soon be over. The smell of the diesel fumes and the hum of body odour was overwhelming. She felt her stomach heave again and had to take deep breaths to calm herself. "God, I couldn't bear it, please don't let me get sick on the bus"!

She felt a slight tug on her sleeve and turned to her right. Sitting there, smiling at her, was the African lady, her newborn baby straddled to her back, secured in place by a blanket, so that she could not sit fully back on the seat and Karen wondered whether the child was safe in that position or was in danger of falling to the ground and being trampled upon by the passing footfall. The child was sound asleep, its' tight black curls framing its' face, coffee coloured skin, smooth as silk. It looked so peaceful, so serene.

"I'm so happy to see you", said the Mother. "I hoped we would meet again"

"Oh, hi there, em.. yea, nice to see you", Karen said, not feeling in the least like engaging in idle chatter.

"My name is Kehinde"

"Karen" she replied.

I hope you don't mind,Karen, I just wanted to say thank you, for giving me your seat that day. It meant a lot to me, I was not feeling fine, on my way to the hospital" she continued, in broken English. "I gave birth two days later".

As the bus jostled to a halt and they both alighted together, Karen couldn't take her eyes off the sleeping baby, so peaceful and serene on his mother's back. Suddenly, she burst into tears, the enormity of her own situation engulfing her. She looked around, disgusted with herself for this public display of emotion, so out of character for her. She quickly gulped down her emotions and walked away, rummaging in her pocket for a tissue.

Kehinde followed her.

"Please, Miss, what is the matter, are you OK? " she said Karen turned around, irritated! But something about the softness of her expression, the tenderness, care and compassion, make Karen even more upset.

All of her bottled up emotions came rushing to the surface. She opened her mouth to speak but was overcome by the sobs that shook her body, while all the while, Kehinde's baby boy slept, blissfully unaware of the drama that was unfolding around him.

"Please, my dear child, don't be upset. Let us go across the road and have a cup of tea, OK?" Karen looked at her watch. She had never been late for work, she couldn't be late. But she knew she couldn't go into the office like this, her mascara running down her face, her nose streaming! She quickly sent a text message to her secretary to tell her she had been delayed and accepted Kehinde's offer.

Kehinde led Karen by the elbow, across the road and into a nearby cafe.

"It can not be that bad, can it" she said, as she stirred the steaming hot tea and added milk and sugar.

Kehinde waited patiently for Karen to answer.

"I'm afraid it is. I'm sorry to be so..., so.., it's just, I , I don't know what to do, well I know what I have to do... you see... I'm pregnant!", Karen wailed, then realized where she was and glanced around nervously. She was grateful that the nearby tables were empty.

"I see", Kehinde said gently. Just then, the baby began to cry. Kehinde unbuttoned her shirt and the baby nuzzled greedily at her breast. He fed hungrily. Despite how upset Karen was, she couldn't help watching him, fascinated. He looked so content, his little hands reaching up to pat his mother's breast from time to time. He made little swallowing noises as he fed. Kehinde gazed down at him, lovingly. The baby looked into his mother's eyes, as if enthralled. It was all so effortless, so natural, so nurturing and loving.

"You see, Karen, babies do not need anything more than their mother's love!", Kehinde declared.

"What about his father"?, Karen asked.

"Father?" said Kehinde. "I don't know the father. It's a long story" She looked uncomfortable, unable to meet Karen's gaze.

Karen apologised.. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have... it's none of my business"

Kehinde leaned forward and whispered "I was.... it was.... he raped me".

"What"?? said Karen, shocked! She looked at the baby, then back at Kehinde! "And you.... You......em... " She hesitated, didn't quite know how to verbalise what she was thinking. How could a woman in that position contemplate going through with the pregnancy.

"I know what you're thinking" Kehinde said. "But I didn't have money". Besides, I was afraid I would die. I've heard stories of such things happening. My friend helped me to get out of the village, so as to avoid disgrace to my family. I made my way to the city, worked for some rich people who my friend knew and finally, with the help of some friends, had enough money to pay the agent who would get me documents to travel. I didn't know where I was going, I just hoped I would not die on the journey, I was very sick. Finally, I arrived in Ireland, just six weeks before Emmanuel was born.

Karen was speechless. She looked at the baby, now sleeping contentedly in his mother's arms. She reached across the table and took his hand. His tiny fingers gripped her index finger tightly. Her tears had subsided, but when she looked at Kehinde, she was now crying.

"You know, Karen, I am so happy to have my son. I feel guilty sometimes when I look at him, because when I was pregnant, I did not want a child. Now, I can not imagine my life without him."

**********

"Hi Mom"

"Hi Karen. Are you okay love?, have you a head cold?"

"No Mom, I don't have a head cold. I'll be over in a little while. I've something to tell you"

"You've got your promotion"! Great news. I'll ring your father right away"!

Karen tried to suppress her exasperation. Why the hell didn't her mother ever bloody listen!

"No Mom, I haven't got my promotion. Look, I can't talk now, it's very busy here, gotta go...see you around seven!"

The End.... (or the beginning) ?