Simple Perfection

telling me. What do you do? Are you in college?” She stopped and smiled at me. “Sorry, I’ll let you talk.”
    There was one thing I was sure of: Glenda wasn’t going to push for my life story. It wasn’t easy to tell, and I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t fade out while telling it to her. That was a part of me that I would keep to myself. If this woman remained in my life then maybe one day, but not today.
    “I’ve been traveling around. I wanted to see and experience new things for a while. Then I plan on going back to college.”
    “That sounds like fun. Are you traveling alone?”
    I thought of Tripp and realized I was going to have to send him on to South Carolina without me. I wasn’t going there now. I had to decide what my next move would be. “I was traveling with a friend of mine. He’s going back to his home in South Carolina this week. I’m not sure yet what I’ll do next.”
    “That sounds exciting,” she said, watching me carefully. I knew she wanted me to delve deeper into my life but she didn’t deserve that.
    I didn’t say anything else. I had nothing else to say really. Now that I had seen her and I knew this was my mother, I felt like I was finished here.
    “I almost kept you. I wanted to. I loved Nile back then. He was the captain of the basketball team and everyone fell under his charm. But he’d picked me. I was his girl and I worshipped the ground he walked on. When I found out I was pregnant I wanted to keep my baby. I wanted to marry Nile and I wanted a family. But I was sixteen. I knew nothing of love and heartache. I didn’t know what paying the bills was like or how much babies cost. My mother worked as a nurse back then and my father was a construction worker. They made a modest living and we lived from paycheck to paycheck. I, of course, didn’t understand any of that. I was wrapped up in the romance of it all.” She stopped and took a drink of her coffee. She was nervous telling me this but I realized I wanted to know why. Why had she given me up?
    “Nile came from money. Lots of money. His mother’s father was a congressman and his father was a surgeon. They had big plans for Nile. Being a teenage father wasn’t on their list. I think he loved me back then. I really do. I’ve always thought he did. He told me he’d get some money and we would run away and raise our baby. We would get married when we turned eighteen. I was giddy with excitement. Until everything changed.” There was a sadness in her eyes. As if remembering this was hard for her. It had been twenty years ago. I couldn’t imagine she still regretted it. Especially with the life she had now.
    “Nile was offered a full-ride basketball scholarship to the University of Arizona. He decided to take it. He told me he wasn’t ready to be a dad and he didn’t think I was ready to be a mom. We were too young. We had no idea what we were doing. I knew he was repeating his parents’ words back to me. I was angry and hurt. He tried for a long time to talk to me and get me to forgive him but I was done with Nile. He had betrayed me. He had chosen a scholarship over me and our unborn child. As the months went by and my stomach grew bigger, he would go out of his way to help me at school and do things for me, like bringing me my lunch tray. I continued to ignore him. He wasn’t standing by my decision to keep the baby. He wanted me to give it up.” Tears filled her eyes and she gave me a sad smile before wiping them away.
    “As the days drew closer to your delivery date, my dad lost his job. My mom had been forced to sign us up for food stamps just so we could eat. They were fighting all the time and I knew it was because they were scared. Soon there would be another mouth to feed. A baby who would need diapers and formula and child care if I was going to finish school. I didn’t want that for you. I didn’t want you to live the life I had been living. I wasn’t ready to be a mom and I wanted you to have more. I loved your father. You were a product of that love. It took me until I held you for the first time to realize I couldn’t do this to you. I couldn’t take you home to the life I could give you. It wasn’t enough.” She paused and took a deep breath. “I kissed your fat little cheeks, then handed you to the nurse and told her I couldn’t keep you. To find you a good home.”
    I sat there and stared at Glenda. Her story made sense. Sixteen-year-olds weren’t ready to be parents. I felt