guess we can talk here.”
I am now in full panic mode. I feel like I’ve been here before. “Laura, whatever it is, I’ll understand.”
“You will?”
“I’ll try at least. You’re about to go off to college, a college that’s your backup choice even. You need to figure out what you want in life. There’s a lot of stuff going through your head right now. “
“More than you know.”
“I love you, Laura.”
Laura raises her hand to my face, runs her fingers though my hair and over my ear. “I love you, too, Hank.”
“And I love you enough to give you your space if you want it.”
“That’s not it.”
“You mean this isn’t going to be your I-need-to-be-free-and-you’re-nothing-but-dead-weight speech?”
“No.” Laura shakes her head. “Not at all.”
“You didn’t get drunk at some party while I was gone and end up mashing with Lee Barnes, just for old time’s sake?”
Laura makes the face I make when I drink tequila. “Dear God, no.”
“All this time you just pretended to like Scorpions because I told you they were my favorite band? They’re not my favorite band, you know. I mean, I love their music obviously, but—”
“This is serious, Hank.”
“Is it?”
“Very serious.”
“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”
“I don’t quite know how to tell you.”
“Just come right out and say it.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“Sure it is.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“I can take it.”
“But maybe I can’t.”
“As long as we’re together, that’s all that matters.”
“You say that now.”
“Come on, Laura. We’ve been through everything these last few months.”
“Not everything.”
“Okay, maybe not everything. But enough that you and I can handle whatever life throws at—”
“I’m pregnant, Hank.”
I picture myself back at my Christian Awakening retreat, talking to Jesus. Someone has handed me the crucifix. Jesus speaks to me. “It’s okay, Hank. Let it out. The Lord is listening.”
“Hey there, Jesus. I did something I’m not too proud of. I fell in love with this girl. And, well, Jesus, we got in some trouble, my girlfriend and I.”
“Trouble? What kind of trouble?”
“As in ‘that girl’s in trouble’ trouble.”
Jesus breaks into song. “Oh, we got trouble, right here in River City. With a capital T that rhymes with P that stands for ‘pregnant.’”
“I didn’t take you for a Music Man guy, JC.”
“Don’t call me JC. And why is it everybody assumes I fucking love Jesus Christ Superstar?”
“Well, you are the star and all. Although to be honest, Judas steals the show. Not to mention Mary is one sweet-looking piece of—”
“Hank, that’s my mom you’re talking about!”
“No, it isn’t. I’m talking about Mary Magdalene, as played by the sultry, olive-skinned actress Yvonne Marianne Elliman.”
“Same difference.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“Did you not mistake her for the Virgin Mary the first time you saw Jesus Christ Superstar and fantasize about her for a solid decade?”
“That’s beside the point.”
“And what is your point?”
“My point is the whole theory about Mary’s perpetual virginity.”
“The whole theory?”
“It’s bullshit. Are you telling me Joseph never hit that, ever?”
“And now you’re blaspheming my stepfather. Terrific, Hank.”
“Don’t get me started on Joseph. The Patron Saint of Grin and Bear It. Mary says, ‘Sure I’ll marry you, Joe.’ Cue wedding bells. Cue wedding night. ‘Silly me, did I forget to mention I’ve pledged to my God that I will live and die a virgin?’ Then lo and behold, a couple months later, Joseph finds a home pregnancy test stashed in the bottom of a trashcan. Mary says, ‘Joe, I swear to you I’m not sleepin’ around. An angel knocked me up.’”
“In all fairness, Joseph’s initial reaction was to have Mom stoned to death. And in some religious traditions, people believe Joseph and Mom did indeed shack up after I was born.”
“Did they?”
“Hell no. But either way, I think you’re hovering dangerously close to smite territory.”
“You still do that?”
“No, not really. That was more Dad’s gig, back when Moses was around. Peter and Paul’s market research showed a demand for a kinder, gentler Messiah, especially with adulterers ages eighteen to thirty-four. That’s a growing demographic for us.”
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. What is up with the Book of Leviticus?
“I get that all the time. Not the Holy Father’s best work.”
“I should say not.”
“I thought this was supposed to be about you, Hank. You’re the one holding the crucifix.”
“One last point about Joseph. What’s he get for his sacrifice?”
“What’s he get, Hank? Well, sainthood for one.”
“And with that, what? The distinction of being the world’s only eternal foster dad? A stand-in who’ll never be allowed to call the purest of sons his own?”
“That’s a little harsh, Hank. Joseph was a good man.”
“I’m sure he was. I’d also like to think that you, at least for
