Love in Strange Places. Anonymous

SAVED BY A TRUCK-DRIVIN’ STUD

       He was the only thing that stood between my baby and me and utter despair

      “Hey, there, Kelli,” Luke Jameson called as he walked into the gas station. Long-legged and broad, his twice-a-month visit was usually a highpoint in my life. But that day, even Luke’s shy friendliness represented only yet another shame-provoking poke at my own stupidity.

      “Hey yourself, Luke,” I said. Leaning against the bathroom door, I jerked my hand to my mouth as a second wave of nausea churned my stomach and bolted like lightning up my throat. I raced back into the rest room just in the nick of time.

      A few disgusting noises and gut-ripping heaves later and the illness settled, leaving me weak and weary yet again. For a moment, I simply palmed my forehead, my elbow on the chipped toilet seat. Tears gathered in my eyes and total wretchedness flooded throughout my system. How could I have been so dumb, so careless, so totally infatuated?

      “Kelli?” Luke’s questioning voice sounded from behind me. I felt his hesitant, but strong, hand on my back. “You okay, sugar?”

      He offered me a wet paper towel, then gently massaged my shoulders, smoothing the wayward hair away from my eyes. Humiliated to be found in such an unattractive state, I struggled to stand and flushed the revolting mess down the toilet.

      “I’m okay, Luke, thanks. But you shouldn’t be in the ladies’ room, you know.”

      “Well,” he chuckled, peering hard into my face, “I figured at five o’clock in the mornin’ the ladies’ room wouldn’t be exactly crowded with females. Besides, you looked pretty green when you came rushing in here. Are you okay, Kelli? Maybe you’d better go on home. There’s a lot of that old flu going ‘round, and you don’t want to get any sicker than you ought to be.”

      Luke’s genuine worry added to my disgrace. I pushed around him, washing my hands and face. Though I wouldn’t have wished my current plight upon my worst enemy, I couldn’t fight the maternal urge to be as germ-free as possible. Clean and tidy, my hormonal imbalance calmed for the day, I studied myself in the mirror.

      How could I have been so foolish?

      “Kelli?”

      Again, Luke touched my arm, his expression puzzled and alarmed. At twenty-five, Luke was eight years my senior. Yet despite the tough, lonely life he led as an interstate truck driver, he had managed to retain his boyish charm. Luke Jameson was an old-fashioned softy.

      In the six months I’d known him through my job as an early-morning cashier at the truck stop, he’d been a steady, personable customer. He always had a self-effacing smile, a kind word, and a stray, abandoned animal tucked under his arm. The local humane society shuddered when Luke came into town! And while Luke was well-built and carried himself on a sturdy stride, he was not a particularly handsome man or gifted conversationalist.

      Inwardly, I snorted. I’d fallen for a good-looking, fast-talking guy and come up alone, miserable, and pregnant. When my boyfriend found out about the baby, he’d merely scowled, and told me to get an abortion. When I refused and begged him to marry me instead, he’d casually said, “No way” and deserted me like one of Luke’s doomed puppies.

      My parents hadn’t behaved much better than my creepy boyfriend. With five children of their own, they didn’t exactly welcome another mouth to feed. They’d been disappointed that their supposed golden child had ruined her youth on a hot-blooded man and motherhood. Like my lover, Mom and Dad had given me a heinous ultimatum: Have an abortion and go back to school, or take my troubles and stand on my own two feet.

      It had been bad enough that the father of my baby had forsaken me, but to be left high and dry by my own family was an embarrassing, shabby degradation.

      “Kelli?”

      The squeak of the bathroom door and Luke’s peeping presence snapped me out of my woeful reverie once more. I sighed.

      “What is it, Luke?”

      “I’m having engine problems with the rig. Do you mind if I drive it around back, check it out?”

      “Go ahead, Luke,” I said.

      I glanced at my watch. Five-fifteen in the morning. The cook wasn’t in yet and I was in serious need of food. I was sure that the late-night cook was in the back catching up on some sleep.

      Since I’d become pregnant, my morning sickness was followed by an urgent, almost painful hunger. Looking at Luke, I realized that he must be hungry, too.

      “Before you start work, how about a little breakfast? I’m not much in the kitchen, but I can scrabble a mean omelet and fry up some tasty bacon.”

      He shot me such a quizzical look that I had to laugh.

      “How can you be hungry after all that vomiting, little lady?”

      “Just lucky, I guess!” I chuckled cynically, and patted my slightly curved tummy. “You hungry or not?”

      “Yeah, sounds good.”

      Twenty minutes later, I laid a full plate in front of him, and began digging greedily into my own food. Glutton-like and simply famished as only a pregnant girl can be, I hardly noticed the weird, silent stares of my breakfast partner. I was halfway through my meal when Luke leaned forward, a baffled question about to escape his lips.

      “Are you pregnant, Kelli?”

      Luke’s on-the-mark query startled me. I had been so engrossed by my feeding frenzy that I’d nearly forgotten an explanation for my appetite. I glanced up at Luke mid-bite, then self-consciously, my eyes batted shut.

      Although I didn’t know Luke all that well, I hated to see the condescending expression I knew my answer would evoke. For some unknown reason, I could not bare that “how could you have been so stupid” smirk from Luke. Still, he was no nincompoop, and he’d obviously pinpointed my ailment.

      “Yes, Luke, I am pregnant.”

      A quaint smile lifted his lips and he reached across the table, covering my hand with his. Luke appeared almost misty as his eyes ranged up and down my body, his fingers flexed sentimentally over mine. “Congratulations, Kelli. You must be so happy!”

      Speechless, I felt my jaw drop and my eyes widen. Although only my doctor, parents, and disinterested lover knew of my with-child situation, nobody, not one solitary person, had treated this like a jubilant celebration.

      “Your husband must be very proud.” Luke glowed, a curious tinge of envy brightened his eyes.

      “I’m not married, Luke,” I whispered guiltily, expecting him to let go of my hand and harden his heart against me like everyone else had.

      But once again, he amazed me. Instead of attacking my lack of character or spurning my slatternly behavior, he only nodded, his grin still intact. “Nevertheless, a baby is always reason to rejoice. They renew our hope in tomorrow.”

      A guttural sneer puckered my mouth. Luke’s statement had brought a fresh crop of pain to my voice. “Maybe to some