THE DECISION

“Rhonda, I’ve had enough!  It’s either the damn baby or me, you choose. All the whining and crying I can’t take it. If you want me to continue living here he has got to go!”



“Please don’t make me choose Roger”, she cried.



“I’m leaving, when you’ve made up your mind, let me know.



He had left that evening and rented a motel room.  That was a week ago.  By way of small town gossip he heard that “she was not herself” and “she was worrying herself sick over him”, but he had not went home or attempted to call her.  He was totally surprised that she had not tried to contact him and had taken that as a sign that she had made her choice.  She was content with keeping the child.



His cell finally rang this morning. He let her leave a message. Her voice quivered from the tears she was undoubtedly trying to hold back but she said she loved him and wanted him home. Since he was too stubborn to go back and admit that he was wrong, he was relieved she had come to her senses.    She had known when they had first married twenty years ago he had made it plain that he didn’t want children.  She had accepted that even though she had hoped he would change his mind.  He hadn’t. 



Then her niece Ashley had asked Rhonda to baby-sit her 6-month-old son Justin one Saturday and a few hours turned into six weeks.  When a missing person report didn’t produce the child’s mother Rhonda gladly stepped into the role.  The child wasn’t really a problem.  Sure there was the normal fuss when he was hungry or needed changing, but Roger just didn’t like the fact that he had been tricked into fatherhood.  He hadn’t believed Rhonda was actually trying to locate Ashley.  The more he thought about this the angrier he got so it was at this point that he used the crying infant as an excuse to leave the home.



Now he was back.  Even though he still had the house key he knocked on the door. 



“Coming”, a cheerful voice called from within.



Seconds later the door opened. A smiling Rhonda stepped forward threw her arms around him giving him a big kiss.  She looked and sounded a lot happier than the message she had left earlier. Pete their golden retriever ran in wanting to get in on the action.



Even though he said nothing it was good to be home.  She took his hand and led him to the kitchen.  A big meal had been cooked and his plate had already been prepared.  There was a small roast mashed potatoes and green beans and her famous yeast rolls. She had also baked a peach cobbler for dessert. He took his seat at the table but Rhonda headed down the hall.  He couldn’t wait to dig in. Inpatient as always he called for her.



“Where are you”?



“ I’m in here dear”,

She yelled back from the bedroom closest to the kitchen, the baby’s room.  Seconds later she appeared with the bundle of blue blanket that could only be Justin.  Roger felt his blood pressure rise.  As if she could read his mind she put her finger to her lips.



“ Shhhhh".  He’s sleeping”.  She turned and went back to the room, returning, arms empty. Roger had already had his knife and fork in hand and he began eating without saying a word. She sat across from attempting small talk.  He grumbled responses until he finished his second plate of food.

He really didn’t want to argue but he had to say something. After all, the baby was still there.  He leaned back in his chair mentally preparing his words. The meal had eased his temperament. He wasn’t going to be the “selfish asshole” he had been accused of being prior to today, not now anyway. Perhaps he would let the baby stay for a little while longer, but he would make her sweat it out. He spoke carefully.



“So I see Justin is still here”.



“Yes for the time being”.



“When will he be gone, Rhonda”?



“Another day or so at the most.”



“Really”?  He watched for a reaction from her.



“Yes. Really. He’ll he gone.  Seeing as much as you ate of him today there is only going to be enough leftovers for tomorrow’s dinner. Maybe a little left over for your lunch on Thursday”.



Roger’s eyes glazed and he stared at the meat on the platter in front of him.



“Wha….what the fuck did you say”?



“You ate Justin,” she said laughing.



“Rhonda, that shit isn’t funny!”



She walked back down the hall and into the bedroom singing  “Roger ate the baby” as she went.  She returned with the same plush blanket cradled in her arms. His relief was short-lived. She took one corner of the blanket causing it to unravel sending tiny human remains sprawling on the floor.  The small head rolled and came to rest at Rogers boot.  It actually looked like a doll’s head with the lids only half open exposing sightless glassy eyes.  The severed hands and feet looked like parts in Santa’s workshop that were ready to be attached but the legs and arms for the most part had had been stripped clean of all but a few strands of sinew and the torso simply bloody rib cage.  Pete helped himself to the tiny left foot.  The thought of ingesting a child was sickening enough but the sound of the dog’s teeth crunching the tiny toe bones made Roger hurl.  The undigested contents of his stomach splattered on the linoleum in front of him.  He tried to stand but his knees gave out. 



“I choose you Roger.  I choose you.  And though drastic as it might seem I did it for the man I love! But I am not the only one that has to live with my decision”.