I have seen many forms of strength in this world. I have seen strength over pain, and strength against despair, and strength through anger. I have seen quiet strength, and strength that demands attention and respect. But I do not know that I have ever seen anything to match Grace’s strength today.
For the first time since the aborted wedding, she called Con this morning. He was surprised to hear from her, but also pleased. On the phone she told him nothing. Politely she asked if he would meet with her. She promised that it would be just the two of them, that neither of their families or friends would be involved.
He came, meeting her at the apartment they once shared. He has been back only once since the wedding day, coming while Grace was at work to collect some of his things. The rest of them, Grace pushed into a spare room and closed the door. It has stayed closed, and that was the first thing Con noticed on coming in.
Grace was standing in the middle of the room. As Con shut the door behind himself, she stood motionless, watching him. Con could see nothing on her face, but I knew that her heart was tumbling with anger and hurt and yes, love.
“Have a seat,” Grace said, motioning to a chair.
Con obeyed, and Grace sat down on the edge of the sofa across from him. Con was busy looking around the room, noticing the ways it had changed, the ways she has stripped any remnant of him from her life. Grace only stared at him.
Finally he cleared his throat to fill the silence. “You look well,” he said, staring at his knees.
“I’m pregnant,” she said.
His eyes flew to her face, his breath choking off in his throat. This bald admission was meant as an unkindness, a kind of vengeance against his abandonment. Grace regretted it, however, only seconds after she had said it, for Con went slowly white, and his emotions were as clear as if his face were made of glass. Terror and pain raced through him, and his hands closed tightly on his knees. His body tensed.
“Do not run,” I said, blocking his path to the door. “You have done enough running. What you are feeling now, do you think Grace does not feel it as well? But she cannot run from this. Neither must you.”
I have watched over Con, as well, in the past weeks. He has traveled, trying to find something to make himself forget Grace, but he could not. Time has convinced him that he made the right decision to leave her, but he has become equally convinced that he went about it in precisely the wrong way. The guilt has become a heavy burden to him. I have had little enough to do with this—after all, Grace was my concern—but I have borne witness to it, and now I brought it all pressing down on him with its full weight.
Slowly his heart calmed, and regret took over the fear. He bowed his head. “Oh, Gracie,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
Grace’s eyes stung with tears, but she blinked them away. She could not afford to let her guard down now. “I’m keeping it,” she said. “I’m going to have the baby and I’m going to keep it.”
Con swallowed, working around the lump in his throat. “When?” he asked, somewhat incoherently.
“I’m due at the end of November.”
The next question was harder. Grace waited while Con found the words. “And have you…who…does anyone else…”
“The only people who know are you and my doctor.”
Con nodded. His mind was spinning with the implications of all this, trying to trace what the possibilities in this were, what it might mean for himself, for all the relationships he has abandoned, all the choices he has made.
Again he considered running. Again I stood in his path. Grace had more to say.
Finally he said, “We…we can get married.”
“Tried that,” Grace said, her humor sharp and cold. “It didn’t exactly work out the first time, did it?”
“Grace,” Con said, looking up at her. There were tears on his face. “I’m a jackass, but I’m not a coward. I know what’s expected of me—”
“Sure about that?” Grace asked. “Because I certainly don’t expect that from you. If you couldn’t marry me for my own sake, I damn sure don’t want you to do it now just because some nebulous they expect it.”
Con wasn’t certain whether to be reassured or not. Cautiously he asked, “What do you expect, then?”
Grace took a deep breath. “I expect you to be a part of your child’s life,” she said. “And I don’t just mean sending a monthly check. As this child grows up, you will be here. You are going to be present and you are going to be known.
“That does not mean,” she went on, her eyes flashing, “that you have any say in who this child will become. You will not have custody; you will not have authority. You gave that up when you left me. I am going to raise this child how I see fit, and you will follow my lead in all things.”
Con stiffened a bit, reacting instinctively to her harsh tone.
“Don’t,” I said. “You have no right to your anger. And when you have been so afraid of taking on this responsibility, how can you be upset when she takes it from you?”
He deflated, realizing the truth of this. After a moment he laughed and shook his head. “I’m surprised you want me around at all.”
Grace was not ready for this easy capitulation. She frowned at him, then looked away. If Con had been looking, he would have seen the pain and love on her face, but his eyes were on the floor.
“I don’t,” Grace admitted. “But I can recognize that that is still anger and hurt on my part. If…if I’m going to be a mom, I have to learn not to be selfish. And the baby deserves to know you, at least.” She straightened her spine again and looked straight at him. “Can you do it? You couldn’t stay for me—can you stay for the baby?”
Con covered his face with his hands. For a moment they sat in silence. Then he lowered his hands and looked at Grace directly.
“I can do it,” he said. “I don’t know what exactly it will be like between us…but somehow, I’ll do what you want. I can do it.”
When he spoke, he sounded uncertain, but I could see the words taking shape in his heart and solidifying. He had not had the courage to make a promise to Grace without knowing the future. Now, however, as he looked at Grace and knew her to be more than she had ever been, knew her to be bound to him more truly than any vow could make her, he realized that the future was already present. This was no possibility or uncertainty; this was real.
“I can do it,” he said again. Then he lowered his head again. “But can I have some time to think about what…I mean, shit, Gracie, this is all so…” He pressed his hands against his temples.
Grace looked at him, and for a moment she wavered. She wanted to apologize for springing this on him, for attacking him with this news, for wanting to hurt him as he had hurt her. She wanted to get up from her seat, sit next to him, and take his face in her hands. But her heart, still sore deep inside, would not let her do this.
“Take some time to think about it,” she said. “I’m not going to tell anyone until next week at the earliest. We have that long to figure out the details.”
He nodded and pushed to his feet. “I’ll get out of your way, then.”
She walked him to the door, keeping always some distance away from him, so that he could not touch her. Halfway out the door, however, he stopped and looked back at her, his eyes mournful. “I am sorry, Grace,” he said. “Sorry for everything.”
She absorbed this. “I believe you,” she said. “That’s the best I can do for now.”
He nodded, accepting this, but hating it. Wishing he were brave enough to reach for her, he left, and she closed the door behind him.
I expected her to dissolve into tears, to slide down the door and give way to the emotions tearing through her. But she did not do this. She leaned against the door for a moment, took several very deep breaths, then straightened up and went to get ready for work.
I have no words for how proud I am of her. She has not let her emotions carry her in this time of trouble. She has considered every option carefully, and she has chosen what she believes will be best for her child, even though it may be difficult for her. Though she is conflicted still about the child, I believe that this is true love, true maternal feeling. She has felt none of the rewards of motherhood, none of its joys, and yet she has shouldered its full weight and more.
Readers, I hope that this will not always be painful for her. I hope that Con can redeem himself by taking his place in his child’s life. I hope that the journey to motherhood has more to offer Grace than she realizes. I know one thing for certain, however: I will be with her every step of the way.