The Eternal Engagement Read Online Free

news. That’s always been your dream, Katherine. Don’t ever let anyone take away your dream. We Clintons do not give up on anything, you hear me?”
    Did that anything include Lincoln? He was a good man. An honest man. What made him tell her, “I hope that works out for you.”
    â€œNow look at me, baby.” Her mother placed her palm against her cheek, then continued, “Your crown is crooked. Straighten it up.”
    Was her crown crooked because of Mona Lisa? Katherine hadn’t seen Mona since last August, right before both of them left for college. Few people in Selma knew about her pregnancy. She’d hoped Mona was one of them.
    â€œOwwww! This time might take a little longer, Ma. I can’t help it. I love Lincoln.”
    Her mother had taught her, she was a queen, and a queen with a crooked crown was a wannabe. She’d say, “Katherine, always know your self-worth, baby. And for that, you don’t need a man or anybody else cosigning for you.”
    â€œForget about him,” her mother said.
    The doctor said, “Okay, it’s time. Come on. One more strong push for us, Katherine. You’re almost done.”
    She prayed that wasn’t true. Being done with Lincoln. Her school break was three months away. He should use his leave and come home for a summer vacation.
    Katherine screamed, cried, squeezed her mom’s hand, then curled into the fetal position again. She squealed, then pushed with love and disappointment. Happy her mom was there. But she was still sad that Lincoln was not.
    No address to send him a letter and pictures. She’d make sure Lincoln’s grandparents got to see their baby often. She’d take lots of photos and videos, and when Lincoln did come back to them, he’d see what he’d missed.
    Maybe Lincoln never wanted to have kids because his parents didn’t want him. A Chicago kid born on the South Side, Lincoln didn’t get the choice to live in Selma. Their meeting must’ve been fate because it wasn’t her decision to move to Selma either. His parents sent him to Selma to keep him out of trouble. At least that was what he’d said. Maybe Lincoln hadn’t joined the military. Maybe he had a girlfriend in Chicago.
    Her mama shouted with joy, “It’s a boy! I got myself a grandson.”
    And on February 14th, at eighteen years of age, Katherine Clinton had herself a beautiful baby. Her ability to do what she wanted would never be the same.
    â€œLook at this bundle of joy,” her mom said.
    The doctor handed her mom the scissors. “Would you like to cut the cord?”
    â€œKatherine?”
    â€œYes, Mama. It’s okay.”
    â€œThank you, Jesus, he’s got all his fingers and all his toes.”
    â€œLet me see him, Mama.”
    Not caring about the slimy coating on his body, Katherine kissed her baby’s big hands and feet. She uncurled one of his legs. He was really long. Dark curly hair framed his face. His large, light brown eyes were halfway open, full of love. He looked just like his daddy.
    She might make the jersey Lincoln gave her into a receiving blanket for their baby if she could stop sleeping in it every night. Maybe one day their child would get a lot of scholarship offers like his dad. But unlike Lincoln, their son would get his college degree first. Then he could decide what he wanted to do.
    â€œMama, do you like the name Jeremiah?”
    â€œBaby, Mama doesn’t like it. Mama loves it. Hey, little Jeremiah Clinton. Grandmommy loves you. Yes, I do.”
    Katherine cried. What would she ever do without her mom? Her mother could call him whatever she wanted, but her baby’s birth certificate would read Jeremiah Lincoln.

CHAPTER 3
    Lincoln
    May 2001
    Â 
    O ne year in, three to go.
    Being in the military wasn’t that bad. He’d been promoted from private to private first class, soon to become lance corporal. Physical workouts were