Hand of Thorns

by Ashley Beale

  "Is the pain worth the happiness?"

  "Without a doubt. We always have an amazing time together. I never knew I could be so happy."

  "Then give it time, Monica. Give it time."

  Sumner hops back over to our table when Richard excuses himself. "That's his brother?" She asks, staring intently as he steps towards a crowd of friends. "He is gorgeous. Go for him instead."

  "What? No. That'd be weird."

  "Any more weird than what is happening with your life?"

  "True." I nod my head slowly as it starts to pound from all the back and forth of my thoughts and emotions.

  "If you don't want him, I'll take him."

  I look at Sumner in astonishment. "What is wrong with you tonight? You are like a super horny vixen all of a sudden."

  She chews the inside of her lip, looking at the centerpiece with far too much interest.

  "Spill."

  She grunts. "Fine. I finally... well... you know." She peeks back over at me, whispering. "I had sex with Gunther."

  "What the hell." I slap her arm. "Why didn't you tell me?"

  "It was last night. There has been so much sexual tension between us, and I imagined the most incredible night of my life, but... it was horrible." She scowls, looking down at her hands as she wrings them in her lap. "He lasted all of three minutes, I didn't even get that explosion everyone talks about, and... and he's really small." She looks up at me as the apples of her cheeks turn a dark shade of pink.

  I have to hold in my laugh, because it's not funny, even if I find it to be. "Um. I'm..."

  "Yeah. I know. I still love him, I really do, and I don't want to judge him based on last night's experience. He held out for me for a long time, and I understand why it didn't last long. I don't understand, however, why he didn't even try to pleasure me further. You know? Or why we didn't try for another round later on. Either way, I'm extremely sexually frustrated, and no I don't plan on cheating, but I guess it sort of feels nice to feel desired by someone else. It helps me feel better about last night."

  Honestly, I understand her completely. Not that I've been there per say, although my first night with Dustin was pretty awful, but I see why she's seeking attention from other dudes tonight. "He was probably embarrassed," I tell her. "You know, to do more. He probably didn't know how to make you feel good when he was feeling so... pathetic."

  She chuckles softly. "You're right. Why is it we can give each other the most incredible advice, but can't think for ourselves? It doesn't make sense."

  "Because when we try to think for ourselves our heart gets in the way of the blood flow to our brain. Love makes us stupid."

  "Fist it." She holds up a fist.

  I bump mine to it while shaking my head. "Don't ever tell me to fist you when we're in the middle of talking about small penis's and sexual desire."

  We both throw our heads back in laughter, and it feels welcoming to have that kind of feeling wash through my body. I needed some kind of joy tonight, if only for a moment.

  An announcer comes on that there will be one last dance of the night before the initial ceremony begins. The lights dim slightly as a beautiful melody starts to echo across the room. Suddenly I feel that magnetizing pull of Leon, a feeling in which I simply cannot explain.

  Our eyes lock as he passes by.

  I'm waiting on his hand to reach for me. Without hesitation I'd grasp for his in return. I'd willingly ignore the shards, the pricks, the thorns. For the pain he causes may hurt, but with it my heart actually beats... and I feel alive.

  Traces of warmth will surrender within my veins, pulsating faster with each hurried breath. I'll smile and laugh, and I'll have purpose... even if I have to tortuously grit my teeth. For each painful moment he causes me to endure, I have another moment of equaled exuberance. My happiness with him comes with a price tag I can't afford, but I'm still willing to pay.

  Except he doesn't surrender to my need. His hands are not for me. The thorns are gloved beneath his warm skin, holding hers so elegantly. If only for a different yesterday or a more desirable tomorrow, but those days aren't meant for me.

  As I'm only the mistress bearing his child... and the rose he holds in his grasp is his queen.

  Richard walks over to ask for my hand in dance, the same time Smitty asks Sumner. Even with the meandering pain inside my chest, I manage to accept Richard's hand. He pulls me to the dance floor, and we sway together, this time without conversation. He doesn't have the same scent as Leon, and his rhythm isn't nearly as hypnotizing, but I enjoy feeling a little loose for a while.

  When the song starts to die down, I ask if he'd be okay with me cutting out early. He promises it'll be more than alright with him, then he accepts a hug from me as the song finally ends. I tell Sumner to say goodbye to her southern charm, and the two of us escape out the door. The crisp air hits my face as I inhale a deep breath. I don't feel suffocated any longer. I feel refreshed, finally.

  "Mind if I spend the night?" Sumner asks when we get in her dad's car.

  "Yeah, that's fine. I'd actually enjoy the company tonight."

  "Good. We'll switch out vehicles, then head to the market to grab loads of ice cream and movie rentals."

  "What about cheese?" I ask. "I've been craving cheese."

  "You're the pregnant weirdo," she jokes. "You can have whatever you want."

  Except, apparently I can't have Leon.

  Chapter Seventeen

  March 28th

  Today marks seven days past my due date. I'm miserable.

  Fucking. Miserable.

  At least the weather has been somewhat mild for the end of March, so I'm not overly hot, but I'm still anxious, swollen, and beyond irritable. Marney and Polly Ann both suggested I join other surrogates in an annual week long rejuvenation spa retreat at a nearby resort. They said since I'm overdue, it’s better I go day to day, rather than committing to the entire week, but to at least give it a try.

  So I stand here by the bed, shoving a bunch of bullshit into my bag. Shit that won't fit, or that I probably don't need, but it was on the stupid list they handed out. When I'm finished, I sit on the bed to pick up my phone. I have a new message from Penelope, which is a picture of Brady with his umbilical cord nub finally gone, sitting in the bathroom for the first time- completely captioned with tons of explanation points and smiley faces. She's loving being a mom, and William loves being a dad so much, that they've been doing great as a couple, too. I pray for her that the two of them work out. Maybe this is exactly what they needed together.

  Shoving my phone back into the pocket of my shorts, I get up to find a few extra hair ties. I tie my hair into a messy bun to keep the hair out of my face and off my neck. The remainder of the hair ties go into the duffle bag. I think I'm ready.

  Picking up the bag, which is probably a lot heavier than something I should be carrying at forty one week’s knocked up, I bring it outside and down the steps, tossing it into the backseat. I slide into the driver side and instantly cramp up. "Ouch," I hiss, grabbing my side. I keep having cramps this morning, and they're driving me insane more than anything else.

  After a few seconds, the pain subsides and I crank the engine, which has been acting up. I need to get it fixed, but I need my final check from delivering Spud in order to do that. Between helping my mom pay her mortgage, even though she's finally working and will be able to do that herself soon, and paying my own rent, along with groceries and everything else, I'm running out of the extra money for things such as fixing my car. It appears I'll have to find a real job this summer, rather than take what I had originally assumed to be an easy way out.

  Sitting at a red light, just before the retreat, my stomach starts cramping extra hard and I suddenly have to pee. I urge it to stay put until we arrive to the place, wiggling around, singing, "I need to pee, I need to pee," while trying to breathe through the cramp. I am sure the old man with a gray mustache next to me is highly amused. I probably would be too if I saw some ginormous pre
gnant woman signing about having to pee.

  The light turns green and as I go to speed ahead my car decides to die. "No," I yell. I try to get it to turn over but it doesn't. "No! No, no, no. Not right now!"

  The line of cars behind me start to honk on their horn, getting frustrated with me, like somehow I can control it. I run my hands over my face, wondering how to get out of this mess. It's going to take forever to get a tow truck out here. Finally the cars start to go around me, the people beeping or swearing as they go.

  Glancing around, I spot a sub shop across the three lanes. I grab for my purse and phone, then pull the keys from the ignition. Smoke is coming out from under the hood, and from that alone I know I'm not going to be able to start it. Even if I could, I wouldn't want to. Looking both ways, I quickly waddle across the street, playing Frogger with traffic.

  Pulling my phone out once I get onto the sidewalk, I dial Sumner. She doesn't answer, so I try Penelope since William knows a few things about vehicles. She answers, but says he isn't around. When she offers to come get me, I let her know where I'm at then I head into the sub shop, watching my car sit still in the middle of rushing traffic. It's going to be at least a half hour of sitting here alone.

  I get a booth near the window after using the restroom and ordering a drink, which probably isn't the smartest this far in the pregnancy, as I'm already using the bathroom every ten minutes. From the corner of my eye I recognize a vehicle I haven't seen in a while. In seventeen days to be exact, because even when I felt like I could look past his engagement, Leon never reached out to me. We haven't spoken since the banquet, and for that... I despise him.

  Love isn't predicable. It is, however, ridiculous and cruel. It's selfish, it's frustrating, and there are many times when it's downright ugly. At the exact same time it's the absolute most beautiful experience you can imagine. Those sparks and rainbows people talk about are real, and the feelings in which ache throughout your body light up a fire you never want to put out. Love is many things, and when you're truly, hopelessly in love, you feel all of those moments, and more. Sometimes all at once.

  Some days I want to love Leon, I want him to be mine for the rest of existence. Other days I want to hate him as much as I should. There are moments when I want to scream and yell about his hurtful ways, but there are more moments when I stare at my phone for hours, preparing myself to call him, to beg him to come back.

  As I stare at his parked car, I wonder if he misses me the way I miss him. If he longs for my touch, and dreams of the way we shared a bed together. If he envisions my legs tangled with his, or the way he pressed his lips against the curve of my neck. I wonder if he remembers my scent the way I remember his; crisp, seductive, and masculine.

  I'm unsure if there is such a word to describe the way I yearn for him to want me. It seems in the end I wasn't ever worthy of his love, of his heart. He said he wasn't worthy of mine, but it was a lie all along. From the beginning I knew it wouldn't be easy. I knew loving him would ruin pieces of me, and those fragments would be far too jaggered to ever put back together. I knew better... but I loved him anyway.

  Another cramp hits, this time doubling me over in pain. The need to pee hits again, this time twice as bad. I race towards the bathroom, as fast as any overdue pregnant woman can, to get there in the neck of time. I'm pulling down my shorts before I even have the bathroom door closed. Urinating has never felt so refreshing. I relax for a moment, sitting here before wiping.

  "What the fuck," I say out loud to absolutely no one but myself. I look down. Everything is... green. Is it supposed to be? There is quite a bit of it, but I flush it down, wondering if this is what they referred to as a mucus plug. I heard of it in Lamaze class a couple times, but I wasn't expecting this. Hopefully it is that and nothing dangerous.

  Washing my hands, I head back out. I'm frozen in place when I spot him walk through the door, holding a garment bag with the words, Modern Styles Dry Cleaning. He swings it over his shoulder while glancing down at his cellphone, paying no mind to the fact I'm in the same sub shop as him.

  I can't force myself to advert my eyes anywhere but fixated directly upon him. Leon fucking Owens, standing before me, breaking my heart second by second even more than he already has without any acknowledgement.

  He slips the phone into his pocket, looking over to the counter. He scours the words above him, figuring out what he wants to eat. I take the opportunity of his distraction to walk away, as he obviously wants nothing to do with me. I head straight for the door as water gushes around my feet. I start to slip, but I grip onto the table top next to me to avoid falling. Looking around, I realize... this isn't drinking water, and it’s definitely not pee.

  My cramps. They weren't cramps.

  Oh. My. Fucking. God.

  "Ma'am, are you alright?" A ladies voice echoes.

  "Huh?" I look up, glancing around in either direction. I spot someone walking towards me, her daughter following next to her. "Yeah, I um... I think I'm in labor."

  "Are you here with anyone?"

  "No, I..."

  "She's with me." Leon's hands are under my armpits in seconds, holding me up so I can move accordingly.

  I want to shove him away, but another cramp- well, contraction- hits, and I'm doubling over in pain again. "Fuck," I scream. "This hurts. This hurts!" I can hear him whisper for me to breath, no matter how hard I try to push away the fact he is here with me right now, at one of the most embarrassing moments of my life.

  I peek up at the woman who started to help me, giving her a sad smile. "I'm sorry for yelling in front of your daughter."

  She waves it off. "Don't worry about it. Here, let me help you out to your car." She comes over and assists Leon with bringing me towards the car. He tries to pull me closer to him, but I refuse to allow my body to lean in that direction.

  When we get outside, she asks where my car is. I point to my precious hunk of metal. "I'm waiting on a tow truck."

  "I'll take care of it. Let's go in my car. I'm bringing you in." Leon gives me no room to argue as we get closer to his Toyota. Pathetically enough, I laugh to myself that I'm about to sit on his well taken care of seats with whatever kind of liquid exploded from between my legs.

  I thank the woman, then reach for the seatbelt but it's too much effort, so I let it stay where it is. Leon gets into the driver seat, tossing his freshly pressed clothing into the back before revving the engine to life all in a second’s time. He pulls from the parking lot with purpose, speeding through the stop sign and down the long stretch of road, which soon brings us to the usual traffic.

  He looks as though he's about to hop onto the sidewalk to rush through but I stop him. "The baby isn't coming out right this moment. I'll be fine for a bit. Calm down."

  Leon glances over at me, and it's the first time I think he actually looks at me since the night of the banquet. "Did you follow me?" he asks.

  "You have some fucking nerve to ask that." His audacity is vexatious.

  He speeds up with the traffic until we hit a red light again, not saying a word in between. My phone starts to ring and it's Penelope. I had completely forgotten about her. "Hey, I'm sorry, I'm..."

  She interrupts. "Your water burst at the restaurant," she laughs. I'm glad she finds it amusing. I remember when she was pregnant, she was worried it'd happen in an embarrassing situation, but I assured her it's rare for a women's water to actually break on its own, despite all the movies you see. I hadn't actually expected it to happen to me.

  "I'm glad you find that amusing."

  "Oh, I had to hold back my laughter when some woman told me. She said a man was there and you were riding to the hospital with him. Where are you? I'll come grab you from him so you don't get sexually assaulted on the way or something." I can sense her attempt in joking around, but knowing Penelope, I know she really is terrified of that happening, even in a moment such as this.

  I glance in Leon's direction, almost feeling fear of telling her it's him who is bringi
ng me in. "I, uh, ran into someone I know." It's not technically a lie. "I'll be safe. You have Brady, so you probably don't want to be there for this, huh?"

  "He'll be four weeks tomorrow. I think it's safe to say he'll be perfectly content being placed in his car seat. Plus, he has boob on tap. That is all he does, eat and sleep, oh and fart... a lot."

  I smile as Penelope has eased up on a lot of things, including her appearance, since becoming a mom. She's a natural, and I adore her for her abilities to see the light in any situation, especially since giving birth. "Okay," I tell her. "It's all up to you. If you need to leave at any time, please feel free to."

  "I'll see you soon." She hangs up the phone at the same time I start to cramp up once more.

  I hold my stomach, breathing through the torture.

  "Are you... what is going on?" Leon sounds truly fearful.

  Once I'm done breathing through another contraction, I shake my head. "It's fine. It's all part of labor. We're only a few minutes away."

  "We're fifteen minutes if I keep driving fifteen over the speed limit." I roll my eyes at his need to be in control somehow during all this. "Are you going to make it? Do I need to speed up?"

  "Stop fucking worrying about me. I'm fine, Leon," I snap. "Where the hell have you been up until now? Huh? If you were honestly worried about me or the baby, you wouldn't have put me and my body through hell over the last week and a half!"

  He licks his lips slowly as he takes a deep inhale of breath, letting it out unhurriedly. I'm the one supposed to be concentrating on my breathing, not him. Everything about him is infuriating the heck out of me. I look out the window once more, since it's obvious I'm not going to get a fair response from him.

  "That's what I thought," I grumble after a few minutes.

  "Stop it, Monica." His voice sounds distressed. But do I care? No.