He had felt like this when he called Hannah after the coffee shop. He paced his apartment and had a glass of wine and prayed before calling her. They had lunch the next day at Pompei’s, near the hospital. She was a nurse. Later, he would surprise her sometimes with a slice of pizza from there after she finished a shift.
He picked up the phone and started the tedious process of dialing internationally. A tree outside shushed quietly in the breeze. The flashing light made his fingers hesitate. Finally, the woman’s voice said it was connecting and a phone half the world away began to ring. David sat down on the floor, his head beneath the window, catching the scent of cinnamon mixed with lemons. It rang three times.
“Hello?”
“Han. You’re there.”
“Hi David. Are you in Zambia?”
“Yeah, I’m at Billy and Martha’s. Just got here.”
“Is- is it warm there?” She seemed unsure of what to say. They were far apart.
“Um, I guess it depends on who you ask. It’s about sixty. All the Zambians are wearing winter coats.”
“Oh.” Then: “Was the flight okay?”
“Yeah, it was fine, I guess. I really don’t like flying.” He shivered. The floor was cool, and the night air was cool. “Did you go to the doctor’s today?”
“Yeah. I just got back.”
“Do they know what’s wrong?”
“Sort of.”
“Sort of? We need to get you over here, Han.” He ran a hand through his hair and could feel the grease. His hair stuck straight up.
“Yeah. I have morning sickness.” She sighed into the phone.
“What?” Morning sickness. He thought. Could you just get morning sickness? “Are you, are we…”
“Yes. I’m pregnant.”
“Oh.” The light flashed down intermittently. The staccato chirp of the crickets sounded like the staccato cry of the baby on the minibus. The room was so small, and the stucco walls looked yellow. They moved in closer to him, almost imperceptibly. It felt like his stomach turned inside out, all the bile and acid leaking through his guts. Finally he responded: “That’s great. Hannah.”
Nothing on the other end. A sniffle. She was crying. “I’m not ready.”
What did she want him to do? “I know.” Another sniffle. “It’s okay.” God, he prayed, C’mon! What’s happening? What are you doing? The crickets chirped and the trees murmured and the fan spun the blinking light down. “We can do this, Han. God is in control.”
“Oh, don’t play the God card.” Her voice was puffy and swollen. “You played that when you left two days ago. And here I am throwing up…” Her voice disappeared into sniffles and silence.
“Han, but he is.” No response. “You know he is.”
“Where, David? Where?”
“Now don’t give me this, Hannah. If you had come with me here-”
“If I had come with you there I would have puked the whole way over and still wouldn’t know I was pregnant.”
“We’d be together.”
“What?” Her voice was icy now. He trembled. “What did you say?”
“If you had come like we planned…” They were fighting again.
“Why the hell would I have come? Why? Because we can’t change your stupid plans?”
“What?” The light flashed down and he wanted to tear it out of the ceiling. How could she? If she was here now, he would grab her, and shake and shake and shake. He could see her head tossing back and forth as he shook. He started to slam his hand on the floor and Billy flashed through his mind. Don’t make much noise, he thought.
“Maybe I’ll have an abortion then be right over there. The smiling wife by your side.”
“What? Hannah? What is wrong?” It was all he could think to say. An abortion?
“What is wrong?” The crickets chirped, and he wanted to yell at them to shut up. “You don’t know what is wrong?” He looked down at his left hand. He could see his face, blinking in the ring with the light. “David, I can’t do this now. Call me tomorrow.” The line clicked dead.
He looked down at his hand again. Why did they fight now? What was God doing? Why couldn’t he just bring her over? He had always looked at his dad’s hands when he was little. They were thick and rough. The middle knuckle was scarred. He was going to have someone looking at his hands like that. A son, or daughter, when Hannah came back to herself. He would not get divorced like his father.
