Chapter 5

Paul sat in the cafeteria, his tray before him and scanning the line for Cheyenne. He saw her pick up a tray. She worked her way to the end of the line. He stood to catch her attention and she joined him.

She sat accross from him and sat, staring at her tray. "How are you doing?" he asked.

She shrugged and made a little shake of her head. "It's the not knowing," she replied. "It's the not knowing for sure."

"Shy -- you haven't touched your food. You must eat." She unenthusiastically picked up her fork. "Sandy has his last ROTC outing this weekend. Would you like to go back to my room tonight?"

She shook her head again. "I'm sorry, Paul. I'm not in the mood."

"We don't have to have sex," he replied.

"A little louder, please?" she said tersely.

He lowered his voice. "I think the fact that you and I are seeing each other is an open secret.What I meant was -- I just want to be with you."

She let out an exasperated sigh. "I understand. I need to be alone."

"You said your roommate is always there."

"Yeah, but I can tune her out. I can't tune you out."

"Do you want to tune me out?"

"Of course not, Paul." She reached across the table and took his hand. "I really appreciate the support you've given me the past two weeks. I know I haven't done a good job of showing it. Whenever I've needed a shoulder to cry on..."

He caressed the back of her hand. "I thought we agreed not to worry until we have something to worry about."

"I think I have something to worry about. Paul -- I'm late."

"Late? For what?"

"My stupid period. It's Friday. I should've gotten it no later than Wednesday."

"You're two days late and you think you're pregnant?"

"My period is so regular -- you can set your watch by it."

"Did you use that pregnancy test I gave you?"

"Yes."

"And?

"Negative."

"See? Nothing to worry about, yet."

"It's still early." She pressed her fist to her lips.

"I'll buy another one and you can try again in a day or two. Okay?"

"Okay. I'm really worried about what I'm going to tell my folks. My mom calls twice a week and I have to put on a happy face and make like nothing's wrong."

"Nothing is wrong ... yet."

"Plenty's wrong. I lost my faith..."

"That's not wrong in my book," he remarked.

"Well -- it is in my mom's book. It's April. The baby would be due in January. I'd have to spend my first term next year pregnant ... very pregnant. If I'm lucky I'll have six weeks tops after I get home before I start showing. I can't keep it a secret for long."

"If there is a birth -- would you keep the baby?"

"Oh, Paul -- don't make me go there now. I don't know how I could keep it; and I don't know how I could bear to give it up."

She set down her fork and pushed her tray aside. "I've lost my appetite."

"Well -- at least you ate something." He stacked her tray onto his and consolidated their detritus. "Want to take a walk up the hill?"

She shook her head. "I'm just going to go back to my room."

"I'll walk with you."

Paul walked her to her dorm. Once in the lobby he embraced her, held her tightly and kissed the top of her head. She turned and headed for the door to the residence floors.

He started walking up the hill but halfway there he turned around and headed back to his dorm. He pulled closed the bedsheet curtain and flopped on his bed.

He was almost asleep when his phone warbled. He knew the ringtone meant that Cheyenne was texting him. He grabbed the phone and read the message.

Well, I got it

Got what? he texted in reply.

My stupid period

He stared at the message in disbelief, and then punched the air. "YES!" he exclaimed, and then replied. That's a relief

He awaited her reply. Finally, he added, isn't it?

I guess

Want to get together and talk?

Not now. Im exhausted

In the morning? he sent.

K

Up the hill 10AM?

K CU then

Paul sat on his bed with his head in his palms. It's over, he thought. We dodged it.

Paul woke after his first good night's sleep in two weeks. He showered and dressed and then headed up the hill. It was early -- nine thirty -- but he wanted to be there when Cheyenne showed up.

He reached the top of the hill and found her sitting on the rock. "You're here early," he said.

"I've been here since sunrise."

"You should've texted me. I'd have come up to be with you."

"I needed the solitude."

He sat beside her and they held hands.

"How did you sleep last night?" he asked.

"Better than in days."

"Me, too. We dodged it, Shy. We dodged a big one."

"Yes. We dodged it."

"See? All that worry was energy expended for nothing."

"I wasn't worried."

"The hell you weren't!"

"No, Paul. It's how my mind works. I was running through all the contingencies."

"The female brain again. It sure sounds like worry to me. Well, I for one am relieved. Aren't you?"

"I'm not sure."

"Not sure? Are you telling me you WANTED to be pregnant?"

"I am curious. I wonder what a child you and I conceive would be like."

"So, now you're disappointed."

"A bit. I'm also guilty ... a bit."

"Guilty?"

"Paul ... I know I conceived."

"How can you possibly know?"

"I just know. The implantation failed. I know that, too. It's why my period was late and why it's heavier than usual."

"And you think if you had done something differently, you'd be pregnant now?"

"I have nagging suspicions."

"Shy -- you did nothing wrong. Hell, taking Plan B wouldn't have been wrong. Not in my book, at least. You did nothing to prevent it."

"But maybe I could've ... I don't know ... had a different diet or exercise or no exercise..."

"I can't believe it," he said. I thought you'd be happy ... or, at least relieved. Instead I find you mourning an embryo that may or may not have even existed and if it had existed may or may not have been viable."

"Paul -- you're a man. You can't possibly know what it's like to be a woman ... to be responsible for bringing new life into the world."

"You're right. I don't know what it's like. I was merely thinking about how much a pregnancy would've jeopardized your future and mine. Now we don't need to face that, and I, for one, am relieved. Pardon me for being so selfish."

Cheyenne faced him, glowering. She lifted her hand and slapped his face; then she sprinted down the path toward campus.

Paul stood and watched as her figure grew small in the distance. He felt his cheek where she had slapped him; then he sat on the rock and buried his face in his hands. The female brain he thought. I will never understand the female brain.

He headed down the path, taking his time. When he reached the bottom of the hill he saw Cheyenne sitting on a bench near the path, brushing tears from her cheeks. He approached her. "May I sit?"

She made a hand gesture that meant, do what you want.

"Shy -- I'm sorry I popped off like that. I know you're probably a bundle of emotions right now and I should've been more sensitive to it. Forgive me?"

She shook her head. "Paul -- I was the one out of line. Of course, you are right. A baby would've been disastrous to your career and mine. I'm really sorry I slapped you. I hope I didn't hurt you."

"Not too bad." He put his hand to his cheek. "You made your point, though."

"If you want nothing more to do with me -- I'll understand."

"That's absolute nonsense." He touched the back of her hand as an invitation and she accepted. They locked fingers.

"I am relieved, too, Paul. I am glad I'm not pregnant." She looked into his face. "You don't want children, do you?"

"Whatever gave you that idea?"

"Do you mean, you do want them?"

"I don't, don't want them. I know that's not quite the same as wanting them..." He regarded her. "Was that it? Were you thinking you lost your only chance to have my child?"

"That might've been part of it," she admitted. "That, plus I had just about reconciled myself to the notion of having a child."

"I think I do want a family. I know there's only one person in the world I'd want to start one with ... and that's you, Shy."

"Really?"

"Really. Not now, though. When we're ready."

"When will we be ready?" she asked.

"After we graduate and have jobs ... pay down these student loans a bit ... have a home and some security ... are married."

She turned to face him. "You think we should get married?"

"I think that's where we're headed."

"I think so, too." More tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Now what's wrong?"

"I wasn't sure you thought that's where we're headed."

"I want to do right by you. Hell -- if you had been pregnant -- I'd have married you on the spot." He kissed tears from her cheeks. "Shy -- does this mean we're engaged?"

"We haven't set a date."

"It'll be a while before we can do that," he replied. "I have another year here and you have two. In my field the only way to get ahead is to go on for a PhD and then find work as a research associate. We're looking five or six years out."

"Does it have to be?" she asked. "If we were married while you're in grad school -- I could find work and help support us."

"Work in your field?"

"What is my field? I'm a humanities major. With my kind of luck, my field will be flipping burgers. I'll find something."

He patted his lap and she sat on him. He held her and they kissed. "I missed those kisses."

"So did I. It wasn't you, Paul. It wasn't anything you did. It was me."

"You really weren't alone in this, Shy. You never were. I was there for you. Next time we have some crisis or other -- lean on me. Let's truly work through it together."

"It's not how I'm accustomed to dealing with a crisis."

"Then, get accustomed to it." He kissed her again. "I can ask Sandy if we can have the room this evening. Would you like that?"

"I'd love to spend the night, Paul. We can't do anything."

"Why not?"

"Because of my stupid period."

"It wouldn't bother me."

"It would bother me," she replied.

"Then we can cuddle and savor the closeness."

"I'd like that."

"I think we both need it."

Paul unlocked the door to his room and escorted Cheyenne inside. He saw his roommate sitting at his desk, manipulating a laptop and with iPod buds in his ears.

Sandy looked up and pulled out his earbuds. "Shy," Paul said, "this is Sanford Morris, my roommate. Sandy -- this is Cheyenne Ross."

"I know your fiancee Eugenie," Cheyenne added.

"Hi," Sandy replied, "pleased to meet you." He turned to Paul. "Sorry, dude -- I forgot. I'll give you guys some privacy."

"No need. Shy and I are just going to turn in."

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure."

Sandy stuffed his earbud back into his ears and turned to his laptop. Cheyenne set down her overnight bag. She took out her toiletries kit. "I'll go wash and brush," she said.

Paul policed up his side of his room. Cheyenne returned and stepped behind the bedsheet curtain. He stripped to his briefs. "I'm ready," she said.

He stepped behind the curtain. She was wearing a cotton sleep tee that cut across the upper thirds of her thighs. "This is what I usually wear to bed."

"It's ... sexy."

"Do you really mean that?"

"No. It looks comfortable, though." Paul switched off the lights.

She slid into bed and he lay beside her, his chest to her back. Paul slipped his arm around her waist. "Church tomorrow?"

She shook her head. "No. God has forsaken me when I needed Him most. I haven't forgiven Him for that."

"How can you forgive something that doesn't exist?" Cheyenne let out a soft groan. "What's wrong?"

"Cramp. It's my stupid period."

Paul pressed his hand low against her belly, right above her mons. "Does this help?"

"Mmm ... I think it does." She put her hand on his. Paul snuggled against her, rubbing his shin against her smooth calf and kissed the base of her neck.

Paul carried a small case into the Warren House lobby. Cheyenne unlocked the door leading to the residence floors and to an elevator. She pressed the button. "I'm on four," she said as she called for the floor.

"What about Meg? You said she's always there."

"Meg went home for the weekend -- something about an interview for a summer job."

She led him to her door and unlocked it. "That's Meg's half," she said.

Paul looked at a line of blue painter's tape running across the room. On the left side, the bed was unkempt, clothes and shoes were scattered, styrofoam cups littered the desk and papers overflowed from every drawer. "It looks like her side of the room exploded," he remarked.

"Yes. Meg is a messy girl."