Faking Your Abortion
You refused to acknowledge her as your girlfriend, but for months, you routinely fucked her, and then scuttled out of her apartment at 3 a.m. You’d always kiss her at the door for minutes before you got into your car and drove away, but she knew–the way a woman knows–that your dick was fully in it, but your heart wasn’t.
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Option 1: Glitter leather pumps–$405:
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She’d never be able to put the damn shoes on without wishing you could see her in them – the way they lengthen her legs, lift her ass, and sparkle in the light, demanding every man’s attention. She still wants only yours.
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She let you put it in without a condom, mostly because you both agreed that it felt better, but also to force herself to trust you. Backwards logic, she knew, but it went something like this: “If I allow it, he’ll have to be accountable. He’ll have to feel close to me. He’ll have to pull through if he makes me pregnant with his kid.”
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Option 2: 7-day Singles Cruise leaving from Fort Lauderdale, FL–$466:
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The Caribbean balminess would succeed in making her feel sexy–which would, of course, only make her sadder. No “single,” no matter how statuesque his physique or lucrative his income, would compare to you. Just chatting with another 20 or 30-something man over cocktails or all-you-can-eat buffet brunch would make her crave your smoky baritone, your round, pasty belly, the particular tang of your sweat.
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The truth: She wanted your baby. Would have been happy to keep it. The pregnancy test she took right after you two ended things–citing irreconcilable differences in what you wanted from each other–came back negative. The truth: That little minus sign broke her heart. But she momentarily fantasized about faking your abortion. She would have phoned to tell you that after everything you’d put her through, she couldn’t handle the idea of you coming with her, but could you please send her a check for $500?
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Option 3: 60-minute psychic reading with world-renowned Laurie Schultz: author and self-proclaimed medium/channel for spiritual healing–$440:
During your session, Laurie will descend into a trance and access your soul contract in The Akashic Records. She’ll channel your angels, guides, and crossed-over loved ones in order to provide your soul with the insight, nurturing, and healing it needs.
This is precisely what she’s after: Insight. Nurturing. Healing. But what if her guides tell Laurie that you two belong together? What if they tell her you don’t? What if her grandma shows up to scold her for being such a loose, careless tart? Could a never-born baby come through as an angel? Will the angel-baby have a name? A voice? A face? What is she supposed to do with all that? . . . It’s too much.
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The $500 would have felt like just desserts–reparations for the myriad damages incurred–but really, she would have done it more for your attention than your money. You would have believed that she’d had her cervix numbed with anesthetic, had a cannula jammed inside her, had your son or daughter vacuumed out of her uterus and then placed in a bowl labeled “The Products of Conception.” It would have comforted her to know, or at least suspect, that this made you wonder how she was doing.
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Option 4: She doesn’t cash or deposit the $500 check. Instead, she keeps it tucked away in the top drawer of her nightstand, right next to the box of Magnums you never used.
At least she still has something with your handwriting on it. At least she has a scrap of evidence that–albeit on the most basic possible level–you cared. You cared. You cared.
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She still loves you, you hopeless asshole. But she doesn’t want to anymore.
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Option 5: She doesn’t cash or deposit the $500 check. Instead, she sends it through a shredder. Or better yet, takes a lighter to it. This is dramatic, maybe. Cliché. Still, it feels deeply gratifying to watch and smell the remains of the child you two never created go up in smoke.
She destroys what little you gave her–a reminder of everything you never gave her. She won’t even bother to scatter the ashes.
About Jeanette Geraci
Jeanette Geraci is originally from New York and graduated from Florida Atlantic University’s MFA Creative Writing program in Spring 2017. Her creative nonfiction, flash fiction, original poetry, and translated poetry have appeared/are forthcoming in Room Magazine, 3Elements Review, Blue Fifth Review, Lunch Ticket Literary Magazine, Lingerpost, Anomaly (FKA: Drunken Boat), and numerous other publications. Jeanette received a Pushcart Prize nomination in 2016. She currently lives and works in South Florida.
