Kate was there, beneath the tree, the branches casting a broad shadow in the bright, hot June sunlight. Becca set her feet down and moved to sit beside Kate, and I plopped down in front of them.
“I’m not—I didn’t love him, like you said,” Kate blurted. “I didn’t. I was always trying to fix him. Make him better.”
“But you accepted him any-anyway. You l-l-lo-loved him, even though he was so messed up.”
“He wasn’t messed up. He was just Ben.”
“See?” Becca smiled, a tiny, sad smile. “That’s w-w-what I mean.”
A long silence ensued. Kate sat Indian-style and stared at the grass between her legs, plucking blades of grass and shredding them. I moved to sit next to Becca, since the way Kate was sitting left her open so I could that she wasn’t wearing anything under the dress, and I didn’t need to see that.
“I’m pregnant.” Kate whispered the words.
Becca’s head snapped up. “What?”
“That’s why Ben killed himself. He couldn’t take it. He thought he’d ruined my life, our lives. The kid would be like him, he said. He said…he wasn’t capable of being a father. He…I found out the day before he…the day before. I told him, and he just…he flipped out. He got so mad, worse than I’ve ever seen him. At himself, though. Not at me. He smashed the apartment, and almost hit me. It was so scary. He wasn’t himself, he was just…crazy.” She was still whispering so low I could barely hear her. “When he realized he was so close to hurting me, he stopped. That was the next morning. Then he left, and I didn’t know where he’d gone. I was so sick, I was puking so hard I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t get off the bathroom floor for hours. So I sent you that text asking you to look for him. God, Becca, I never thought…I didn’t think he’d—he’d do this…” She sobbed and fell sideways, burying her face in her hands, slipping down so her head rested on Becca’s lap.
Becca stroked her hair away from her forehead and wept with her, sniffling quietly, letting her tears fall. I felt my chest clench, my stomach twist. Watching Becca cry so hopelessly was the hardest thing I’d ever done. Knowing I couldn’t help her, couldn’t comfort her was even worse.
Kate stopped after a while and wiped her eyes with her hands, and her nose on her forearm, leaving a clear trail across her pale skin. “What do I do? How do I…how do I do this?” Kate asked.
Becca stared at me, pleading with me silently to have some kind of answer.
“I—you just…live. One day at a time. That’s all any of us can ever do, isn’t it?” I hated how trite my words sounded. “You’re family, now, Kate. You won’t be alone. We’ll…we’ll help you any way we can.”
“I…I thought about having an abortion. That’s all I can think about. Do I have this baby? Do I not?” Her voice cracked and she cleared her throat, continued in a broken murmur. “But…I have to have the baby. He…or she…is all I’ll ever have of Ben. God…he’s gone, and I have to do this alone.” She curled her fists in the grass, ripped hunks of grass loose, speaking through clenched teeth. “I’m so mad at him. So angry. He left me. He didn’t die on accident, he wasn’t taken from me…he left me…on purpose. And I…I f**king hate him for that. Does that make me an awful person? I’m so angry at him for leaving me that I could just…I can’t take it.”
“I-I’m mad at him, too,” Becca whispered. “I n-n-know what I s-sss-said in there, but…I’m angry, t-too, Kate. He took the coward’s way out. I h-hate mys-ss—self for ee-eev-even thinking that about him, b-but it’s t-tr-true.”
“You’re allowed to feel whatever you want,” I said to both of them, again feeling like I was spouting cliches.
Another long silence, and then Kate stood up shakily, brushing her hands off and smoothing her dress, slipping her feet back into her black heels and re-tying her auburn hair into a sleek ponytail. And just like that, she was back together again, eyes dry but full of sadness. “I have to go. Thanks, both of you.”
I stood up and leaned in to give her a quick, chaste hug. “Call us, okay? Anytime, for anything.”
She nodded. “I will.” And then she was gone, long legs striding across the grass.
Becca held her hands out to me, and I lifted her to her feet. She clung to me, drawing in a lungful of air with her face against my chest. “Take me home.”
An hour later, we were back in our apartment. I had my shoes kicked off, the stupid, slippery dress socks making my feet slide on the cracked white laminate stick-on of the kitchen floor. I shucked my coat and pulled on my tie to loosen it, and then I felt a hand on my arm, turning me.
I spun in place, and Becca’s hands were on my tie, pulling it free, her eyes fierce and determined, mouth open slightly. She fumbled with a button, then another, and then she growled and yanked it open. The first few buttons popped open, and then the rest tore free and clicked onto floor.
“Beck? What—?” I didn’t get a chance to speak.
She attacked me, kissing me a desperation I’d never felt from her before. My ruined dress shirt hit the floor, and then my wife-beater tank top was flying across the kitchen and my belt was snapping free and my pants were around my ankles.
“Make me feel s-sss-something.” She whispered it, her voice harsh and ragged in my ear. “Any-anything else. Please.”
I had no chance to reply. She had her dress off and then the rest of her undergarments before I could register what was happening, and then we were naked together and I was stumbling across the kitchen with Becca’s weight on me. She hung from my neck, her legs around my waist, her lips locked on mine. I groaned as she devoured me, biting my tongue, nipping my lips. Her fingers dug into my skin so ferociously I knew I’d have marks, and then she was reaching between us and guiding me into her, rising up with her thigh muscles leveraged on my hips, and then slamming down so hard the slap of flesh echoed in the tiny apartment. I stumbled again, and then spun in place to set her on the counter with her back against the peeling white paint of a cabinet.
“No, no. More. Need…more.” She thrust against me, and I pulled her airborne, staggering across the kitchen, and we slammed into the hallway wall. “Yes. Like-like this.”