Resilient

Chapter 1


After I gave away the most precious thing I had,

Austin and I remained in a relationship for a little while

longer, but things were different. He still held my hand at

school, and we even talked on the phone. We still hung out

together, but everything had changed. Our relationship was

no longer innocent love. It was no longer what I would call

‘puppy love.’ He brought up sex even more since we had

done it already. I still didn’t feel too comfortable doing it

because it felt wrong, so I blew him off and changed the

subject when he brought it up. We did have sex one more

time. I had convinced my mom to let me go over to Tyra’s,

my oldest sister, apartment. He came over, and we had a

quickie while she was in the shower. After we finished

having sex, I noticed a fishy odor. I thought it was weird, but

I didn’t say anything about it to Austin. I don’t know if he

noticed it or not, but I did. Mama always taught me to pay 

attention to my body because if something is not right, I

should be the first person to know. At that moment, I knew

something was not right. I just didn’t know what it was.

After Austin was gone, my mom picked me up to take me

home later that night. When I got in the car, as always, she

knew something wasn’t right. She asked me, “What is that

smell? I smell fish.” How did she know these things? I told

her my sister had cooked some fish, and that was the end of

it.

Over the next several days, I woke up, got dressed,

went to school, gave the teacher my attention in class, went

home, took a nap, got up to do homework, ate dinner, did my

chores, and went to bed again. I repeated this cycle every

day. It’s like someone had put me on autopilot, and I was

going through the motions. It was time for my period around

the first week of February, but I was spotting a lot. Mama

asked me if my period had started because she kept up with

it. I told her yes, neglecting to mention I was only spotting.

No need to worry her or me, right? I was hoping that I

wasn’t pregnant; that would be an awful thing. First off, my

parents would kill me. There was no way I could take care

of a baby. I couldn’t even take care of myself, which made

me regret January 23 more and more. Oh, how I wished I

had just said no that day. Why in the hell didn’t I go with

my gut and say, “Hell to the no! I’m not ready, and you can’t

pressure me.” I felt stupid.

Furthermore, what really had me upset was that the

blood from my period was a dark reddish-brown color, and

it had a foul odor. The smell was horrible. I didn’t even want

to go to the bathroom to pee. There was no way I could tell 

my mother about it because then she would know I’d had sex

with someone. There was no way I could tell anybody. I was

too embarrassed to say anything to Lillie or Shanda, my best

friends, and too ashamed to tell my mother. All I could do

was pray to the good Lord that it would all go away.

I wished a thousand times I could turn back the hands

of time. I would do that dreadful day differently. I would’ve

changed everything. But, in life, we learn that we can’t undo

what’s already been done. I would have to suffer whatever

the consequences would be. Austin had been distant toward

me since the last time we had sex. I couldn’t even bring

myself to tell him what was going on with me. It was almost

as if he didn’t want to have anything else to do with me. I

should have known that would happen; my mama warned

my sisters and me about this very thing. She would always

say, “Keep the door of the church closed. Keep the lock on

your pocketbook,” and one of my favorites, “Don’t let

everybody see your feet.” When we were disobedient, she

would say, “A hard head makes a soft ass.” I must say, my

ass was feeling mighty soft.

One day, I remember I was at school, and I couldn’t

get the thought of being pregnant out of my head. I walked

into class, took my seat behind Lillie, and I whispered in her

ear, “If I tell you something, do you promise not to tell

anybody?” I knew I shouldn’t have told her, but I had to talk

to someone to get the heaviness off my chest.

“I promise,” she said, as she leaned to her left side to

hear.

“I think I might be pregnant,” I blurted out. Lillie

looked at me in disbelief, and then said, “I knew this was 

going to happen.”

“How did you know?”

“Because you kept talking about doing it with him.

Why didn’t you use a condom?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t think I would get pregnant. I

counted the days on the calendar. I must have counted it

wrong. Plus, he didn’t want to use a condom.” She shook her

head from side to side in disapproval. I couldn’t say anything

more. My sister had warned me about the same thing, but I

didn’t listen. God, why didn’t I listen? Was I that desperate

to please a boy?

“What are you gonna do?”

“Honestly, I don’t know,” I said through tears. We

were at school. I couldn’t wail the way I wanted to without

all the other kids around noticing. I wanted to let out all of

my pent-up frustrations. But I couldn’t, not at school and not

at home. Lillie could probably tell I was about to explode.

She said, “Maybe it’s just stress, Robin. Don’t freak out yet.”

“Okay.” Maybe she was right. There was no need to

freak out yet. At least I was spotting some blood. That’s a

good sign, right? Although I was hoping it was a good sign,

deep down I knew it wasn’t.

The bell rang, indicating it was time for class to start.

I quickly gathered my thoughts so I could pay attention in

class. I loved my French teacher, Mrs. Portnoy and the class.

When class was over, Lillie and I walked out together,

heading to our lockers.

On our way, I saw Austin in the hallway with his

friends laughing and joking around. He was dressed in

khakis and a red polo shirt. He was fine at about five-seven, 

smooth golden skin, and a smile with straight white teeth to

die for. His hair was freshly cut, and he was feeling himself

that day. He looked good, and he knew it. He looked at me

and turned his head like I wasn’t even there. Before he got

in my panties, he would rush over to help me with my books

or stand with me at my locker. Then, he had the nerve to act

like he didn’t even see me.

“Did you see that?” I asked Lillie.

“Sure did. He has some nerve; that’s cold.”

“I ought to go over there and slap the taste out his

mouth!”

“No, girl, don’t worry about it. Just act like you don’t

see him either.” She was exactly right. Why should I make a

scene in front of everyone for a boy who clearly wasn’t as

into me as I thought he was?

Valentine’s Day was just a few days away, and I was

hoping everything would get better for us. When I ran into

Austin at the end of the school day, while walking out to

catch the bus home, I was still feeling stupid. I had not talked

to him in a while; it was kind of awkward. We stared at each

other, me in disbelief, and him in…what? Disregard maybe.

Is this dude going to speak to me or what? With frustration,

I spoke up first.

“Hey”

“What’s up?” he asked, displaying a blank

expression. I was trying to read him, but I couldn’t. I didn’t

know what he was going to say next.

“Why have you been ignoring me?” I blurted out.

“I haven’t been ignoring you!” He said, a bit too

loudly and with too much attitude.

“Yes, you have! You were acting like you didn’t

even see me the other day when you were with your boys,

and you haven’t returned any of my phone calls!” By then, I

was pissed off and didn’t mind letting him know it.

“Whatever, dude.”

“Whatever, dude?” I couldn’t believe what I’d just

heard.

“Look, I’m just tired of you okay,” he said, looking

away. He looked to the left of my face, then down at the

floor. Without saying another word, he stalked off.

I was stunned, speechless. It felt like the wind was

knocked out of me. I was deeply hurt. I willingly gave

Austin my virginity. I stayed up many nights, losing sleep

while talking on the phone with him. I went against my gut

instinct and everything my parents taught me to give him

what he wanted. Then, he said he was tired of me. How

could this be happening to me? What the hell had just

happened? It was over just as fast as it had begun. I felt like

such a fool. Valentine’s Day was right around the corner.

Not only would I not be receiving a Valentine’s gift from the

one guy I thought loved me, but I could also be pregnant and

would be raising the child alone.

I didn’t want to go to school over the next couple of

weeks. I had some of my friends ask me what happened

between Austin and me. I told them exactly what he said.

Mom asked, but I was too ashamed to tell her. So, I just told

her we broke up. I assumed she didn’t want to pry because

she didn’t ask me anything else about it. Although I was

upset about it, I tried not to let it control me. I couldn’t keep

my mind off of the fact that I wouldn’t feel as bad as I felt if 

I had not had sex with him.

***

It was early March. The weather was mild that day.

When I got home from school, I was tired. I went directly to

my room to take a nap. As I was dozing off to sleep, I heard

my sister, Dionne, sweeping the hallway floor. She woke me

up when she saw Mama coming into the driveway. She was

home early from work. Mama worked as a registered nurse

in the emergency department of the county hospital in

Starkville. Starkville, MS, a small city, is the home of the

Mississippi State University Bulldogs. The drive from West

Point to Starkville is about twenty minutes or so.

In a panic, I jumped from my twin-sized bed and

hurried to make up Mama and Daddy’s bed. Cleaning up my

parents’ room was part of my to-do list every day. I hated to

clean up their room, but they never knew it. Their room was

a decent size with a queen-sized bed and nightstands on each

side of the bed. There was also carpet, so I had to vacuum

and dust. And there was an en-suite bathroom, which I also

had to clean up every day.

When Mama walked into the house, I was already in

her room cleaning up. She had no reason to think I had been

napping. As Mama walked into the bedroom, I greeted her

with a smile.

“Hey, Mama!”

“Hi, Robin. I’m going to take a shower. I’m not

feeling too good.”

“What’s wrong?” I hated it when my mama was sick. 

She looked so pitiful; so unlike herself.

“It was something I ate at work. I had tuna salad. It

must have been bad. I’ll never eat it at work again.”

“You need anything?”

“Yeah. Go get me some water and an Alka-Seltzer.”

Alka-Seltzer was and still is Mama’s go-to medication for

stomach aches and indigestion.

I went upstairs to do what Mama asked me to do.

Yes, the kitchen is upstairs. My daddy built our home that

way. For whatever reason, he loved the four bedrooms, twoand-a-half bathrooms, split-level floor plan when he found it

and decided to build it. The kitchen, dining room, and living

area are all upstairs. The den is on the lowest level of our

home with the two-door garage. Some found it hard to

believe; but, yes, my daddy built our home himself. Not only

was my dad a pharmacist, he was also by trade, a carpenter

and mechanic. He was the general contractor and builder of

his dream home. I was always proud of that.

I remember how much I loved going to the site as the

house was being built. My daddy was my hero. I saw how

strong and smart he was to be able to do that. I watched him

and his contracting buddies in amazement. I loved the smell

of the wood and the sounds of the hammers and drills. He

wouldn’t let me get too close because he said it was

dangerous. So, I watched from afar. In my eyes, my father

could do no wrong. He was the king of my life as far as I was

concerned. I was the ultimate daddy’s girl. In some ways

now, I still am. Once, I asked him if he would build my house

when I grew up. He just laughed and said, “I’ll be too old

then.”

By the time I made it back downstairs, Mama had

already gotten in the shower. When she got out of the

bathroom, I gave her the Alka-Seltzer I had prepared. She

drank it down in a few gulps and headed to her favorite green

recliner to rest. I decided to go ahead and iron my clothes

for the next day of school. The ironing board and iron were

always in my parents’ closet; I would get them out and iron

in their room.

While I was ironing, my mom was staring at me. It

made me a little uncomfortable. I tried to ignore it. Every

time I looked up, she was staring at me. I was just a bit

worried by it, but I didn’t say anything, hoping she would

look away. Then, out of nowhere, she said, “Robin, are you

having sex?”

I was like a deer caught in the headlights. I was

stunned. I replied, “No ma’am.”

“Don’t lie to me. You know I don’t like being lied to.

Now, I’m going to ask you one more time. Are you having

sex?” This time her voice was more forceful. I decided it

would be in my best interest to tell the truth.

“Well, it was only one time.” I was nervous; my

voice was shaking. I didn’t want to tell her about the second

time I’d had sex. The first experience was bad enough. I held

my breath while waiting for her to flip out on me. To my

surprise, she didn’t. She asked me a follow-up question.

“When did you have sex?”

“January 23.”

“You’re pregnant,” she said matter-of-factly.

“No, I’m not!” I nearly yelled. My heart was about

to jump out of my chest at the accusation. I could not believe 

my mom could look at me and say such a thing.

“Yes, you are,” she responded with authority. She

flipped up the calendar hanging on the wall next to her

recliner. She looked at the days and said, “You are pregnant,

and you were ovulating that day.” I stood there looking like

a fool. I could have sworn I counted my days correctly, so

there would be no chance of me getting pregnant. I still had

hope I wasn’t pregnant up until that moment. The pit of my

stomach felt like it hit the floor; I was speechless. What

could I say? What could I do to change things? To my

dismay, there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about what my

mom revealed to me. She knew with all certainty that I was

carrying a baby.

She picked up the phone and called my oldest sister,

Tyra.

“Hi, Tyra, go to the store and buy a pregnancy test.”

Tyra was asking questions because Mama said, “Just

do what I said; we will talk later.” Then Mama disconnected

the call. She put the phone down, and said, “Maybe I’m

wrong. Let’s just wait and see what the test says.”

My sister arrived a little while later with my nephew

and the pregnancy test in tow. Tyra walked in and said,

“Who’s pregnant?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Mama said, hurrying Tyra

out of the house. “I’ll call you later.”

As soon as Tyra was gone, Mama gave me the box

holding the pregnancy test. Tyra picked up the E.P.T test,

which I assumed was one of the most accurate tests

available. I held the box in my hand, staring at it, knowing

that in a matter of minutes, the course of my life would 

depend on whether or not the test was positive or negative.

Mama snapped me out of my reverie and hurried me to the

bathroom. Once in the bathroom, I stood there for a minute

or so, looking at myself in the mirror. I was wondering what

I was going to do if the test turned out to be positive.

Mama was very disappointed when Tyra got

pregnant. I saw how upset she was. Mama got pregnant when

she was eighteen years old with Tyra. I know that is not

something she wanted for any of her girls. She didn’t want

us to be unwed mothers. She didn’t want our lives to be

harder than they needed to be. Since she was upset when

Tyra got pregnant, I just knew she was going to explode if I

turned out to be pregnant.

I turned the box over and read the directions. With

shaking hands, I opened the box and removed the test. I

removed my clothing and urinated on the end of the stick,

replaced the cap, and placed it face up, as directed, on the

top of the toilet. I washed my hands and opened the

bathroom door. Mom and Dionne were standing in the

hallway waiting for me to come out. I was trying to read

their faces to see how they were feeling. If they were as

nervous as I was, it didn’t show. I stood in the bathroom with

the door open, looking at them. I felt nothing but fear and

anticipation. I felt like my legs were going to give out; I was

so nervous.

After about a minute or two, Mama came in and

picked up the stick. She looked at it; then handed it to me. I

didn’t want to look at it because deep down inside, I already

knew the results, but I looked at it anyway. There it was, two

blue lines indicating I was pregnant. I was speechless. 

Dionne asked, “What does it say?” I looked at her and gave

her the test. She looked at it, and then she grabbed the box to

make sure she interpreted the results correctly. Shock was

written all over her face.

I started to cry, and so did Mama and Dionne. “I’m

sorry, Mama,” I wailed. I couldn’t stop those tears from

falling. I was afraid. I never expected anything like this to

happen to me.

“It’s going to be all right,” Mama said, wiping my

tears away. She hugged me and held me close as I cried in

her arms. Dionne came and hugged me from behind. All

three of us stood there in the bathroom, embracing each

other, crying. Mama pulled back for just a moment and asked

me a question I didn’t expect.

“Do you want to get rid of it?”

With tears streaming, it took me only a moment to

say, “You didn’t get rid of me.” Those were words I didn’t

expect to come out of my mouth; but to my surprise, they

did.

“Okay, I was just checking to see where your mind

is,” she said. I don’t remember how long it took Mama to

figure out who the father of my baby was. But when she did,

she rushed to my room, picked up the phone, and called

Austin. I didn’t know who she was calling until I heard her

say, “Robin is pregnant, now what are you going to do?”

She didn’t bother to say hello or be cordial toward

him like she always was. I’m sure he wasn’t expecting to

hear that because she repeated what she had just said. Then

without any regard for him or what he was saying, she

slammed the phone down. 

Like clockwork, we heard the garage door opening, which

meant my dad was home from work. I felt faint. I was not

ready for my daddy to know about this. I didn’t have time

to dwell on what was happening because Mama told us to

clean up our faces and pretend like nothing was wrong. She

said, “Don’t say a word about your pregnancy to anyone.”

She wasn’t going to tell Daddy about it yet. A few moments

later, we heard Daddy stepping into the house.