by Brooke May
Nodding is all I can do before I free myself and make my trip around the table to hug everyone before I can take my seat.
They know better than to try to cheer me up. The first week is usually the hardest for me, but I’ll be okay after that.
The conversation continues around me even as dinner is served, and I mope. My food, my favorite meal of fried chicken and mashed potatoes, is pushed around my plate.
I don’t pay attention to what people are saying around me. All I can think about is where Daxon is now, and what he has to do before he can return to me for good.
Everything is going to be okay.
He’s a capable man; strong and resourceful. This mission will be just like the others, and then he will be here to help me with my committees and our life.
“Mercy?” My dad’s concerned voice pulls me from my musings. Dragging my gaze up, I find four sets of eyes locked on me.
“Hmm?”
“I told you it wouldn’t last.” His smile is warm. “He’ll retire. Maybe not today, but someday soon.”
I can’t bring myself to tell them he already has plans to do so. I’m not given the chance to reply because my dad says the one thing that puts a smile on my face.
“And then you two can get to work on giving us grandchildren.”
Chapter Nine
As hard as it is to believe, time has flown by since Daxon left. I have yet to hear from him but that’s not uncommon. His job takes him directly from home and places him in some of the hardest to reach places on Earth. Doing what he does, I’ve grown accustomed to only hearing from him periodically.
This time is no different.
A month has gone by, and I’ve found myself getting back to my normal. The company I work for has been busy partnering up with another company in Sheridan, Wyoming. They have had an influx of clients and since it is our sister company, we have been focusing on things from the Powder River area. Sometimes, I’m at the office long after the janitors come and go since I have to wait on emails to come up from the other office.
And because of that, I’ve become an early morning runner just to make sure I get some sort of a work out in. Trigger absolutely loves getting out first thing in the morning because he rules the paths we run. There is rarely another dog or runner out at the same time as us.
In a way, it makes me feel even closer to Daxon. As if I could get any closer. Figuratively speaking, my husband and I are closer than close. The time and distance between us don’t make a difference whatsoever. Each time I see his handsome face feels like he was there the day before.
This time around, it’s a little easier to handle the silence that greets me after I’ve settled Trigger down at home because I know he won’t be going anywhere in the world after this trip without me.
Angie and I have spent time with Patience at her bakery, where I’ve indulged in way too many carbs. They have helped me keep my mind off the worry.
We have had a few girls’ nights out both at the Grizzly and at one of our homes for movies. I’m thankful for the people in my life.
Something in the back of my skull buzzes as I step into the house. I’m late, and I’m bracing myself for Trigger’s attack because I’m sure he is hungry. Once my heels are off, and my purse is placed in my bedroom, I make my way to the kitchen find him staring up at me while lying next to his food bowl.
“Hey, buddy. Sorry I’m late.” Before I can even think of my own insatiable hunger, I go to the pantry and fill up his bowl and then check his water. I swear I’ve constantly been hungry for the past two weeks.
My grumbling stomach keeps me from going to the bathroom to shower and change into something less restricting. I’m not sure how to take it because, aside from the possibility of too many baked goods from Patience, there is only one other reason my clothing could be starting to feel tight. As professionally as I dress for my job, I make it a point only to buy things I know will be comfortable.
Going to the fridge, I pull out the leftover chicken, bacon, and artichoke pizza I made myself two nights ago and popped a couple of pieces in the microwave, then start to steam some vegetables. While all of that is being done, the all-consuming need for orange juice takes hold of me, so I open the fridge again to grab the jug and drink directly from it.
“Oh, that feels good.”
Once my meal is made, and Trigger is in the backyard running around before I lock up for the night, I set up shop at my desktop and pull up my emails. Every night I come home and do this to see if Daxon has sent me anything. And like every time, my heart swells with hope only to plummet when.
Falling back in my seat, I start to eat. Mindlessly, I’m staring at the unchanging screen while I shovel food down my throat. I feel so famished for just having had a protein bar this afternoon. A slice of pizza is hanging out of my mouth when Skype pops up, indicating that I have an incoming video call.
Swallowing the barely chewed piece of food, I lean up to accept it when I see Daxon’s name. The video may be touch and go, but I keep this service just to be able to see his face when we can talk. Accepting the call, it takes a minute for the screen to clear up and the lag to set in on his smiling face.
“Hey, babe.”
“Hi.” I’m giddy, squirming in my seat at the sight of him. “How are you?”
He sighs, and I know it isn’t good. “Could be better.” The lag acts like it takes snap shots of him as he collapses back in his seat. “Thank you for the letter. You were right. I’m carrying it right here.” He pats his breast pocket.
“You’re welcome. What’s going on?” I know he can’t tell me much, but I can ask and see.
“We just got our next assignment.” There is another sigh. “I don’t know when I’ll be coming home after this, Mercy. We are going in deep, and it’s going to be ugly, but it needs to be done.” He isn’t thrilled about this, but it’s all part of the job. “I don’t know when I’ll be able to talk to you again, and even now, our time is limited.” He looks away as if to check something.
“It’s okay. I’ll take whatever I can get.” I hope my soft smile reassures him. “I know you’ll be okay and the next thing you know, you’ll be coming home to me.”
“God, I wish I could come home now, but this needs to be done.” Repeating his words, he seems as if he’s trying to convince himself more than me.
“I’ll pray.” It takes everything in me to keep my voice from fading to a whisper so he can hear me.
“I know, babe.” He leans forward again. He looks cramped in a tiny room. “I’ll be home soon.” He smiles at me and I relax for a second. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Kissing my hand, I put my fingers up, and he repeats the same.
“Behave, Mercy.”
“I’ll do my best.” The call then disconnects. It was far too short, but at least it was something. Whatever he has going on has him worried and, in turn, has concern fluttering in my chest.
As I pull myself back together, I go through the motions of getting ready for bed. Trigger settled in his bed next to mine when I locked up, and I change into one of Daxon’s shirt before settling into bed.
Slumber doesn’t come easy, and when I do finally fall asleep, I toss and turn. Sweat starts to make me itchy and uncomfortable. Suddenly, I’m shooting upright in bed. Looking over at the clock it’s 3:00 a.m. My heart is racing, and my stomach is knotting and rolling uncomfortably. The next thing I know, I’m rushing to the bathroom and throwing up everything left in my stomach.
Chapter Ten
My mind won’t allow me to settle, so I don’t bother going back to bed once I’m done puking my guts out. I’m not even comfortable resting my cheek against the closed lid of the toilet. The heat radiating off my body causes the cool porcelain to sting on contact.
Trigger comes in and cuddles near my bare legs. I’m positive he is doing his best to comfort me. His warm, soft body feels nice next to me, but I’m still restless. I don’t know how long I sit there, wondering if
I’m going to get sick again, but eventually, my legs protest my position and I force myself onto wobbly legs.
The moonlight reaching through the curtains glistens across my upheaved bed as I walk by with a longing look. As much as I want to crawl back under the covers and clutch Daxon’s pillow to me, I can’t bring myself to settle down enough.
Something isn’t sitting right in my stomach.
Mindlessly, I make my way to the living room and turn on my computer once more. There is no way I’m going to be able to reach Daxon, wherever he is. I don’t know who else to get a hold of at this time of night, so I do the only thing I can.
I fire up my email and write to him.
Daxon,
It’s only been a few hours since we talked, and I have to admit, I’m worried. I woke up with a start, threw up, and now I can’t get back to sleep. You know that I don’t normally have a sense of something foreboding or anything, but something is off. I don’t know if it has to do with this mission you are going on or what, but I’m feeling uneasy.
I don’t want to worry you about anything, but I don’t know who else to turn to right now. I’m praying whatever is going on with me has nothing to do with you. If you get this before you have to go out, know that I love you more than anything in existence, and I’m praying for your safe and quick return to me.
I’m going to be okay, and so are you. I guess I just needed to find something to settle me and talking to you, or writing, in this case, is the only thing that helps.
Be safe.
Love, Mercy
Pushing send, I back away from the screen and feel lost. I don’t know what to do now. Going back to sleep isn’t going to work for me, so I turn on some music, then return to my room to put on a pair of socks. I have to find something, anything to help me settle.
I end up cleaning the entire house. The cabinets, the fridge, the bookcase, and the entertainment center—nothing was safe from my need to clean. I spend hours going from room to room, singing along to the songs that come on, and do what I can to keep my mind off things.
When the sun starts to peek over the horizon, fatigue grabs me. Going into the kitchen, I make myself toast, eggs, and down more orange juice after shutting off the coffee pot before it can start to brew. I don’t think I can stomach the bitter fluid this morning.
It’s eight by the time I settle back between the sheets. I checked my email while I ate and had nothing from Daxon. A yawn rattles through me as I stare down at my phone only to rip the sheets off me so I can rush back to the bathroom to bring my breakfast back up.
I’m burning up, my forehead is overheated, and my stomach doesn’t settle even as I stagger back to the bedroom. Pulling up my contacts, I call the office to let them know I need to take a sick day. When I’m reassured that everything will be handled and told to rest and get better, I pull the covers over my head and try to get some shut-eye.
I fall into a dreamless sleep. No dreams or nightmares, which I’m okay with. I’m sure I sleep for a few hours before my bed shifting pulls me from it.
Groggily, I roll to my back and force my eyes to open, finding not only my mom sitting at the foot of my bed but Daxon’s as well.
“Mom? Tina?” Yawning, I stretch and slowly sit up. “What are you two doing here?”
“We saw your car was still here.”
“And knew you wouldn’t walk to work.” It’s kind of freaky how they can explain something as if they have a hive mind.
“So, we thought we would come to check on you.” Tina squeezes my foot while my mom crawls up the bed to cradle me to her.
“What’s going on, Mercy?”
I’ve never been one to keep things to myself for the most part. If something is bothering me, I tell someone. Usually, that person is Daxon, but our moms are a close second and third.
I tell them about the unease and finish with how I threw up twice now. Once I’m done, they are speechless, and regarding one another with something I can only compare to being overjoyed.
“What?” Pulling my sheet up my chest like a forcefield, my mom only nods, and then Tina is gone. The front door slams moments after she vacates my room. “Mom?”
“When was your last period, Mercy?”
My eyes widen as realization slams into me. “Umm …” I can’t answer her.
“Mercy, breathe.” Mom’s hand finds its way to my back, where she begins to rub. “It’s going to be okay,” she murmurs in the tone only a loving mother can have.
Daxon and I have never used protection. After we got married, we decided to leave having kids up to fate. He isn’t here, though. I can’t go through all of this without him. Or can I?
No, I don’t want him to miss anything. The test, the first appointment, the first kick, all of it. I don’t know when he’s going to be home. I’m so lost in my thoughts that I don’t notice Tina is back and placing a box she pulled from a plastic bag on my lap.
Two tests, two chances to find out if what they are thinking and what I know deep down is true.
“Come on, Mercy.” Mom is off the bed and coaxing me to do the same. She holds onto me as I make my way to the bathroom and then helps me open the tests before reading the instructions and leaving me to do what needs to be done.
I don’t like calling it a scare because we never saw it as one, but we thought at the beginning of our marriage that I could be pregnant, so I know what to do. It turned out I was just late, which was something rare for me, and we never ended up telling anyone. But now, I have a feeling everything is different.
Pulling down my panties, I do as the box instructs, and then we wait. Sitting back down on the bed, I am flanked by both women. Each grabs a hand as we wait for the timer to go off. Trigger must sense something is off because he comes in and rests his head on my lap.
I feel like I’m floating when I go back in to collect the test.
The very positive test.
Daxon,
I know, I’m emailing you more than normal, but life just changed for us. Our moms helped me figure out why I was feeling so off.
Daxon, I’m pregnant. We are going to be parents, so you better make sure you do the very best job you can and get home to me soon because I don’t want to go through this pregnancy without you. We are going to have a baby soon, and I hope he looks like you.
Don’t ask me; I just have a feeling this baby is a boy. One who will be just as handsome as his dad, strong and protective like him too.
I can’t wait to have you by my side at doctor’s appointments and when this baby comes into this world.
Come home to me soon.
Love, Mercy
Chapter Eleven
“Something’s wrong.” Wringing my hands around the magazine I absentmindedly picked up after I checked in, I can’t keep the worry from consuming me.
“Everything is going to be just fine, sweetheart.” Mom’s warm hand covers my trembling knee, but it does nothing to calm my nerves. “Once you see the baby on the ultrasound, you’ll see.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about, Mom.” I’m doing everything in my power to keep control of the wavering in my voice. There is so much more going through my mind that what should be in the forefront, my pregnancy, isn’t.
After I took the test and emailed Daxon, I went into autopilot. Mom called and set up my appointment for me. They had to pull me out of my funk so I could figure out when my last period was so they could tell the doctor’s office how far along I might be.
That was two weeks ago, and I haven’t heard from Daxon. Typically, it isn’t an issue. We sometimes go a couple of months between talking or seeing each other, but something is off this time. Maybe it is just my own urgency to tell him our news, but my stomach curdles when I try to convince myself that is it.
“What’s going on, honey?” Tina’s hand comes to rest on my other knee. Honestly, if I could find the humor in this, it would be laughable at having them on either side me because I’m usually completely okay doing thin
gs on my own. But I’m grateful they are here with me. Aside from going through the motions at work and making sure I am taking care of myself, my life has been nonexistent outside of any of that.
They picked me up and delivered me here.
When I take a shuddering breath, my entire body trembles as I blow it out. “I’m worried about Daxon.” Admitting that is easy, but it doesn’t take away the anxiety.
“Sweetie.” Mom wraps an arm around me, pulling me to her side. “He’s okay. You know what his job entails, but he has always takes his safety to a height that I haven’t seen anyone else take it before. Not even your dad.”
“He is always keeping a watchful eye and taking precautions to get back home to us and to you,” Tina adds in. “You’ll hear from him before you know it, and all this worry will fade away. Then you’ll be able to enjoy this.”
Their words comfort me. Not completely, it still feels as though a knife is about to pierce my heart, but I can relax a little. Hopefully, my blood pressure won’t be through the roof.
“Mercy Logan?”
Each of us looks up to the nurse standing in the doorway. Another shuddering breath is pulled in as I stand, and the supportive women on either side of me join me. My blood pressure was perfect, and my weight is normal, even though I’ve lost a few pounds. Getting sick every time you eat will do that. I managed not to pee all over my hand while leaving my urine sample. Then I’m escorted into a room where I’m told to change into the gown laid out on the exam table and that the doctor will be in shortly.
Mom and Tina stay with me. They take the two available seats in the small room while I climb onto the exam table, and we wait. My nerves are on edge that the knock on the door has me jumping.
“Good morning, Mrs. Logan. I’m Dr. Wagner.” A kind-looking man steps in with a nurse following him. Of course, I know who he is. He delivered Patience and Duke’s baby two months ago and happens to be the only OB/GYN in town.
“Hi.” My voice is faint.