September, 2017

Time seemed to flow differently in New York. Some days, they were all swamped. Other days, some of them lolled about in the fading autumn heat. On the beach.

Priyanka and Ingrid had more than once chosen to sit out a day of meetings, rather than be mistaken for coffee girls – or worse. They'd both expected to face their fair share of sexist arseholes, especially now that Trump's election – even more so than Brexit – had encouraged a slew of them to climb out of the gutter and drop any attempt at polite pretence.

But Ingrid had definitely not expected that she wouldn't be able to hold her temper in the midst of it. After she nearly punched a prominent 'businessman' who'd pawed her buttock, she and Priyanka preferred to avoid him and his cronies, lest they incurred an assault charge somewhere. Ian dreaded doing business with the likes of them, but they sadly represented the bulk of his options. He couldn't afford to step on any toes before he studied them all.

"This doesn't seem very fair," Caitlin noted as she and Ingrid ferried refreshments to their little spot on Coney Island.

Ingrid sipped her iced mocktail. "What?"

"Beach day mid-week."

"What do you care? You're not working and you haven't got classes."

"Yeah, but my dad is."

Ingrid shrugged. "That's his problem."

They reached Priyanka, who sat up when her companions' shadows blocked her sun.

"Took you fucking forever."

"Don't be such a fucking princess," Ingrid bit back.

"What do you think Pri's short for?" she winked over her sunglasses, while Ingrid rolled her eyes. Caitlin laughed. "I wonder how Ian's coming along," princess Priyanka mused.

"Probably counting backwards in every language he speaks to keep from kicking morons," Ingrid offered.

"Sounds about right."

The two colleagues clinked their drinks and soaked in the sun, but Ingrid noticed something amiss about Caitlin.

"Your dad will be fine," Ingrid said. "He's a great guy, you know."

Cait nodded. "Yeah, I know."

So great, his wife was cheating on him – Ingrid figured Cait might be thinking.

"He can be a bit narrow-minded sometimes," the Brennan girl added, which made Ingrid sit up straighter, "but he usually gets over it if you're patient enough to help him across."

"Narrow-minded?"

Disbelief laced Pri's voice.

"Well, he's your dad, so I guess you'd know better, but believe me, love, there are so many dickheads in this business – in business, in general – that non-dickheads such as your dad can only do so much to fight them. Unfortunately, he can't really afford to, this time round, considering the position he's in, so sometimes, Ingrid and I get excluded from dickhead meetings on account of not actually owning a dick, despite your dad's best efforts. At least we get to chill at the beach instead. Back in London..."

And from there, Priyanka embarked on an embellished tale of their victorious crusade against P(at)rick Evans and his temper that had threatened to ruin the company. Which seemed to uplift Caitlin to a degree. Something lingered in her countenance, however, a faint gloom just below the laughter in her eyes.

Priyanka assumed Caitlin was worried about her dad having a business meeting without the advisers he'd brought all the way across the pond, so she attempted to explain his decision. Ingrid could see she was not.

Whatever bothered Caitlin, it had nothing to do with her dad's business. It likely had something to do with the narrow-mindedness she'd mentioned earlier. Ingrid had faced it herself not long ago – even though it felt like eons had passed since their continental road trip.

At any rate, the matter was shoved aside for the remainder of their outing and Ingrid only brought it up after lunch back at the house, when Pri had gone off for a nap. Caitlin quietly helped with the dishes as Ingrid began to wash them.

"What's the matter, pumpkin?" Ingrid grinned, imitating Edgar's preferred nickname for his daughter.

Caitlin smiled. "Oh, nothing." She shrugged. "It's just, summer's over. School's taking off."

"Columbia, right?"

The girl nodded.

"I almost went to Columbia myself." Ingrid picked up another plate, scrubbed it, rinsed it and passed it to Cait.

"Really? Why didn't you?"

"I got married."

Caitlin's eyebrows leapt into her forehead. "You're married?"

The surprise caused her to fall behind wiping the plate dry, so Ingrid stopped the whole process for a minute. Turned the tap off.

"I was. He died."

"Oh, I'm... I'm sorry." Cait held the plate up like a shield.

Ingrid leaned against the sink. "No, don't be." She crossed her arms over her chest. "It took me a long time to piece it together – in fact, I only realised it after he'd died and I left the city. He proposed to me very soon after he learned that I was trying to get into Columbia and then he whisked me off to an expensive house in the woods upstate, where I lacked nothing except autonomy."

Caitlin averted her eyes. Ingrid took the plate from her hands and led the girl to sit at the breakfast bar.

"What is it, Caitlin?" Ingrid asked softly. "I know we haven't known each other long, so I understand if you can't talk to me about whatever it is that's weighing you down. But your dad loves you and whatever his shortcomings, I'm sure he – "

"No!" Caitlin burst, shaking her head. "No, he'd never understand. He'd only make me feel more miserable than I already am."

Ingrid frowned. She recalled her own miserable confrontation with Edgar in Amsterdam, but she could never have imagined that same man putting his daughter in a similar situation. He loved her too much.

"Your mother, then?" But Ingrid instantly regretted the suggestion, remembering stone-faced Shannon Brennan. "Or a friend," she quickly added when Caitlin replied with a derisive snort. "Yvonne? You two seemed pretty close."

Tears began to pool in the girl's eyes. "It's not... I don't have anyone out here. This is too..." She sniffled. "No one that can help with this, at any rate."

Now Ingrid was getting downright worried. She hadn't imagined she'd become friends with Edgar's daughter, but Caitlin was a genuinely nice and clever girl and Ingrid enjoyed her company. She had dinner almost every evening with them at the townhouse and had joined them for their first weekend at the beach. A bond inevitably formed, especially after Priyanka had invited the girl to guide them on their exploratory expeditions into the New York City party scene.

"I feel you," Ingrid finally said. "I really do. I came out here after I finished my bachelor's degree in London. My future husband had offered me an internship at his company. Jack Astor, you might have heard of him. He was married at the time. Had been married when we'd first met a couple years prior to that. I was waiting tables and tending bar at this restaurant he frequented."

Caitlin's eyebrows furrowed together. "I don't really understand."

"Okay, let's try this chronologically then."

Half-hearted chuckles.

"So, after my freshman year, I spent the summer in New York as a server. I met Jack at the restaurant where I worked, he really liked me, we kept in touch online after I left... it was essentially a long-distance affair, although I wasn't really aware of that at the time. Then he offered me a job after I graduated – an internship, more like."

"Did you love him?" Caitlin asked.

Ingrid pondered the answer. Shook her head.

"No. I don't think I ever did. I was... infatuated with him. I grew up poor, you see, so to all of a sudden plunge into the rich man's glamour of New York City... it blew me away. I never took his attention too seriously until he confessed his undying love for me and proposed out of the blue. I was so overwhelmed, I blurted out yes without second thought."

"But he was married?"

"Yeah, well, that hardly ever gets in the way of a lewd rich man. He promised he'd dump his wife ASAP and I fell for it. He did dump her, though, except what followed wasn't exactly the fairy-tale romance I had pictured. After we moved upstate, I only had a Colombian housekeeper to keep me company. Jack was away on business most of the time. So yeah. I know what it's like to have no one to talk to when you feel like you've hit rock bottom."

Caitlin stared at her feet for a few seconds, as if for inspiration. "Did you have kids?"

"Thankfully, no. Although, well – "

Caitlin's head suddenly snapped up.

And deep in her gut, just as suddenly, Ingrid knew what the problem was.

"I did get pregnant once. Because I didn't really know how to go about birth control, being so far removed from... everything, really. And Jack wouldn't wear a condom."

"What did you do?" Cait asked, her voice barely there.

"Well, I waited until Jack went away on a business trip abroad. Took all the cash I'd saved and travelled incognito to New York. I only had this one friend. He was a bartender in the city. He let me stay with him and drove me to the clinic."

Caitlin gulped. "Do you ever regret it?"

"No. No, it was the right decision to make at the time. I don't think I would have been able to get away from it all, otherwise. I doubt I'd have been able to restart my life in Berlin the way I did. I..." Ingrid licked her lips. Her voice softened. "I don't think I would have survived."

Caitlin lost the last ounce of composure she had been clinging on to and bawled. Ingrid wrapped her arms around her as Cait keeled over in her chair and held the girl through it.

"Shh, I've got you. I've got you, love."

*

They eventually relocated to Ingrid's bedroom and nursed a bottle of wine between the two of them, sitting up in bed.

It turned out that Caitlin's on-off dickhead boyfriend had had the same aversion to latex as Jack Astor and she must have fucked up her birth control at some point, but she could not, for the life of her, figure out when. She only knew that she woke up one day, feeling different, and kept feeling different until it occurred to her what the reason might be.

"There's no other way," Caitlin sniffled as she clutched the bottle to her chest. "I've worked so hard to be here. I can't quit school. And Derek will dump me for good as soon as he finds out."

Ingrid reached for the bottle. "You mean you haven't dumped his ass yet?"

A half-shrug. "It's still unclear. I mean, we were always unclear. We just... hooked up every now and then. Went out on the occasional date."

"Well, unclear relationship status is fine. There's not always a word that can define what's going on between two people. But you have to be clear about what you want from the other person and what you can give. Do you want commitment or just a casual fling?"

Caitlin grabbed the bottle and took a swig. "I never really knew. I mean, I thought we were friends. Hasn't been easy for me, settling in here. But Derek was always nice to me. A source of comfort in these troubling times."

"Yeah, tell me about it." Ingrid sighed. "Your parents would help you, you know. I mean, I know for a fucking fact that your dad would. Hell, he'd probably find a way to move out here with you and raise your kid so you can keep going to school."

"Do you think I should keep it, then?"

"Doesn't matter what I think. I'm just laying it out for you. The possibilities."

Caitlin downed the rest of the wine. "I'm not... I'm only nineteen. I don't feel ready for this. I feel the furthest thing from ready. I'm scared shitless."

"Of what, exactly?"

"The whole thing! Being pregnant, giving birth... that shit can kill you. And what do you think it's going to be like for me in school? Showing up with a baby bump. And no boyfriend. I get slut-shamed enough as it is."

"You? Slut-shamed? How the fuck?"

"I don't know. It just... happened."

"Jesus."

The silence stretched thin without the wine.

"Listen," Ingrid began, "I can take you to Planned Parenthood. They've got a range of services. There are people, trained individuals, who you can talk to about your options, you can do all the tests. Some of the stuff is free-of-charge, too, but what isn't, I'll cover it. Then you can make an informed decision and stop beating yourself up over it."

Caitlin rolled over to leave the empty bottle on the floor, then lay down on the bed, with a hand under her head.

"You know, my mum didn't really want me," Cait murmured. "Didn't really want my dad, either, but back then, she didn't have much of a choice. My poor dad, bless him, he always got caught in the middle. I know he loves me, I know he'd do anything for me, but he's always felt so guilty, too, you know? My mother made him feel that way. Sometimes," she choked up, "sometimes I feel like my mother hates me. I came all the way out here partly because I wanted to be as far away from her as possible."

Ingrid slid down right beside her and took the girl's free hand in hers, after Caitlin wiped stray tears from her eyes.

"I don't ever want to end up like that," Cait continued. "Miserable like my mum. I know I'm better off than she was back then, but... I don't trust myself not to end up like her. She is my mum, after all. Some things stick with us whether we like it or not."

Ingrid remembered her abusive alcoholic mother and briefly wondered how much of her own alcoholism had been genetically inherited.

"Caitlin, you are not your mum."

But seemingly without hearing her, Caitlin carried on.

"She made me want to never have kids, unless happily married to the love of my life. That's what it comes down to, ultimately. I don't want a kid. I just don't." Her tears welled up and slipped into her voice. "I don't. I just don't. I'm aware of how lucky and privileged I am, luckier than most, I know my dad would love and support me no matter what... and I'm telling myself that I don't care if my mum is just going to hate me more..."

"But you do."

"I fucking do. Even if I know that my dad would not necessarily approve of me getting an abortion, he could be made to understand and he wouldn't love me any less. Whereas my mum... it would just prove her right. That I'm the worthless child."

"That'd be hypocritical, don't you think?"

"I was supposed to learn from her mistakes, not repeat them."

"Honestly, I don't know what to say, Cait. You know yourself best. This is a decision that you're going to have to live with for the rest of your life. Only you can make it. It's your life and it's your body. Your choice."

The girl heaved a deep breath. "I don't want this baby, Ingrid," she murmured. "I'm not sure I want any baby ever."

*

song of the chapter: older by sasha sloan

https://youtu.be/r1Fx0tqK5Z4