The Knowing Ch. 08

She thought about it now, standing in front of her bathroom mirror and brushing her teeth. After nearly 9 years with Peter she had somehow avoided a pregnancy, though he stressed how badly he wanted children, especially the 2 years leading up to her pregnancy. For Santos it was always one thing after another. She was traveling, working on projects, or teaching, or travelling and teaching. It was 2 months after switching her birth control when she realized she was late and knew immediately what was going on.

She was pregnant. There was no doubt about that.

She hemmed and hawed, waited weeks before she told Peter. Because the truth was she didn't know if she wanted to have children with Peter. It suddenly became clear to her that, she was nearly 30, in a 9-year relationship with a man with whom she was certain that she did not want to raise a child with. But she was pregnant, and with no real plans to get rid of it, so what now?

So she had the baby. She spent the first few months, teaching a semester at a school in the city and at her parent's house on weekends. Sleeping in her childhood bedroom, letting her mother cook for her, and skyping with her brothers for hours on the weekends. Both of them worried for her, but unable to just tell her that she needed to leave Peter. In the final two months, at Peter's insistence she moved to Jamaica- completely uncomfortable but tired of arguing with Peter about where Biko should be born.

She stayed in a house off the beach, with Peter's mother. His mother was wonderful, she was caring, overbearing in that west indian mother way- and she knew when to leave her alone in her brooding and silence, when to offer her a mango strewn with salt and chile, and when to hold her hand quietly while she cried. This was in total opposition to Peter who watched her every step, chartered her every move obsessively, when he wasn't in his studio making music he was hovering over Santos asking how she was how and how the baby was every other minute.

Santos was tired of the dynamic. She had gotten with Peter because he made her feel free- now? It was simple, she could not stay with Peter after this pregnancy.

So she had Biko. The birth itself had been much simpler than the pregnancy. When he was ready to come, he came after 4 hours of labor and the whole ordeal was over. But now she had major choices to make.

She moved to Martinique within the first month. Staying with her grandparents for a year. Peter travelled between Martinique and Jamaica every few weeks, livid that she had even decided to leave. She didn't know how to tell him. A revolving cast of characters visited her and Biko at her grandparents- her brothers, mother, father, nephews, friends- and secretly she wished wildly that Jaan would show up too.

Instead she stayed with Peter for much longer than she wanted to admit. It took, Biko's second birthday and another ridiculous move for her to tell Peter. She no longer wanted to be in a relationship with him. They would figure out the custodial situation with Biko despite being an ocean away from each other. They'd just have to make it work.

So she and Biko moved. Back and forth across the Atlantic Ocean- Biko was more travelled at 6 than most adults would ever be, but he was also confused, frustrated between the languages and mostly with her. Santos realized that her selfish need to constantly move, her fear of losing control- or rather of someone controlling her was affecting Biko. So they moved to a suburb near Philly, where she had been teaching and working for the past year, living in a suburban house with yuppie neighbors. A move that Santos would have never predicted 10 years ago.

But there they were. And now here she was with Jaan sleeping on her living room couch, and a pressing weight sitting on her chest.

What the hell was she going to do now?

In the morning she walked into her living room to see Jaan still lying there in his coat, his shoes off, fast asleep. He hadn't moved an inch since she left him the night before.

She and Biko shuffled around quietly upstairs getting ready for their days. She had a 10 am class and Biko needed to be on the school bus at 8:15 am. She packed his lunch, as he sat on the edge of the living room couch watching the TV with one eye and Jaan with another. He hadn't spent too much time around men that weren't related to him. Despite the fact that he had gotten along so well with Jaan the day before she knew that this all was a very big deal to him. She could almost hear him thinking, Who exactly was this man, and why is he still in our house? When It was time for him to get him on the bus she had to drag him from the living room, pull his coat on and push him out the door.

"I'll see you later." She said to him in French, kissing him on his forehead.

"Sera-t-il ici plus tard?" he asked her

"I don't know Biko" she answered back in English, "I don't know if he'll be here later" he looked at her warily and then walked cautiously down to the bus.

Back inside the house she starred at Jaan's face pressed against the couch. He had slightly changed his position but was still sleeping deeply. The sound of his heavy breath was reassuring but worrying. Why was he still asleep? She didn't want to wake him, and instead decided to put an empty mug on the coffee table with a tea bag beside it and a note.

Make yourself some tea. It was good to see you. -Santos