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Alison's story, part 3.
"Come on!" I shouted and glared at them, "You all don't mind whispering and talking behind our backs... so come on, step up."
Harold Weingardener, the local grocer and one of the biggest loudmouths on the subject of our situation was sitting at to the table next to me, looking down at his plate of spaghetti. I said to him, "Come on, Mr. Weingardener."
He looked up, his round face blushing.
"You always have an opinion, sir," I said, "Say it to my face."
His blue eyes met mine, both ashamed and apologetic and yet unwilling to allow an admission. Everyone in the establishment shared his expression of confliction, and I knew I was walking a fine addressing all the adults in here like this. I was only a kid, about that Dad had been right. But the fact that none of these so-called adults stood up or put their foot down about my outrage said a lot to me. It said they were all guilty of this and all of them knew it.
"Anyone?" I shouted again and looked around, "Either you say it now or shut the fuck up."
"I've had it with the staring, with the gawking and with the gossip," I told them as my face burned and my hands trembled with pure rage, "It's giving me the shits! You all want some juicy gossip? You all want something to talk about to take your minds off your own lives for a while? How about this shit? I am in love with this woman-" I turned and motioned to Sheila, who smiled the most beautiful smile I had ever seen at me, "-and not only are we going to be together but we are also going to have a baby together too. And you can all be a part of that, or you can go fuck yourselves."
I looked at my father, my heart breaking into two pieces as my throat tightened, "You and Mom can be a part of this or not, Dad."
I offered my hand to Sheila.
She slipped her fingers into mine and I helped her up. My father looked at her pregnant belly, his eyes tired and tinged with a hint of sadness. I saw guilt there as well among all the questions and feelings rocketing back and forth in his mind. He said nothing and didn't even look up as Sheila and I walked away.
We left with our heads held high in the air. I was proud of the gorgeous woman beside me, and I was even more proud of the baby she was carrying. I loved them both so much. If I were going to hold to the speech I had given to the restaurant, it was time to start showing it. There would be no more secrecy or rumors. I had given them the hard truth and probably burnt a few bridges in the process.
But I didn't care. I had Sheila.
I opened the door for her and we stepped out into the humid August air as the people inside watched. I let the door close easily and we walked to her car. Her dress billowed a little in the evening breeze as I opened the door for her. She went to step inside and then paused and looked up at me. She had tears in her eyes and a smile on her trembling lips. She touched my face and said, "That was the bravest thing I've ever seen."
I thought for a moment, "It came from the heart."
"I love you," Sheila kissed me.
"I love you," I kissed her back.
FIVE MONTHS LATER
The doctor had finished giving Sheila her epidural shot when Elle arrived.
I was holding Sheila's hand as the drugs kicked in and she relaxed in the large bed of our delivery room. Her insurance had been able to cover us using one of the hospitals large private birthing suites. The room was lit in mellow yellows and painted in earthy pastels promoting a relaxed and calm environment. I was nervous despite the soothing d__cor, and I found myself even a little giddy as the moment we had been waiting for over nine months was finally at hand.
Elle smiled and quietly walked over to the opposite side of the bed and kissed her mother on the forehead. She said, "Hi, Mom."
"Hey, baby," Sheila smiled. The drugs were already beginning to keep her on an even, low-key medium. Sheila took Elle's hand and kissed it, "I'm so glad you made it here."
"Me too," Elle said and then looked at me, "How are you, Father-to-be?"
"Nervous," I said, "But happy."
Fifteen minutes l