Seventeen

It is night and neither of us can sleep. We are sitting in the middle of a fast food restaurant with a fire burning in a metal bin on the floor between us. The heat washes over my face and arms, bright against the cold. It is the only light within miles of this place. Maybe the only light on the surface of the earth. Lisa is shifting around uncomfortably, occasionally getting up to pace back and forth.

She sits down once more and says, “It’s going to happen you know.” She rests her hands on her bump. “I can’t stop it. I thought it would stop, with all of this going on. I thought it wouldn’t be possible. What if something goes wrong . . .” She seems to lose track of what she’s saying here. I get up and hug her and she pushes the crown of her head into the base of my neck. For a while, she cries.

“Do you know when?” I ask eventually.

“Soon.” She sniffs. “What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know. We’ll figure something out. We’ll be okay.” I look at the bright heart of the fire. I can’t imagine having a child with us; something so fragile and new. In fact, I can’t even see how we’re going to get past the birth. It’s like a solid wall that we’re flying towards too fast to stop. All these nagging thoughts in my head: what if something goes wrong? What if Lisa dies? If that happens I don’t know what I’ll do. I can’t face being alone again. I can’t face this.

“Everything will be okay,” I say. She nods and I hug her again. I think she believes me, even though I don’t really believe myself.