by Cole, R. D.
I feel like I’m missing something, but since I’m not sure what it is exactly, I repeat my earlier statement. “I’ll take care of her, Jax. I won’t let any harm come to her and promise to make her happy.”
He just stares at me for a second with confused eyes. Then he starts laughing, but it’s not a joyful sound. “You have no fucking clue, do you? Do you even know my sister? How can you love her and not know a damn thing about her?”
“What the hell are you talking about, Jax? I know her and love everything about her.”
“Then you’re fucking stupid. Can’t you see what this pregnancy means for her health? Her heart?”
Her heart? I feel bewildered by his rambling. Letting my brain drift back to the first time I met Jazz, a bad feeling settles in my gut. When the puzzle pieces fall into place I feel lightheaded and sick. Her heart. Her two open heart surgeries she had before her third birthday. I lean against the door behind me before I collapse from shock. Sticking my head between my knees, I try and remember to breathe. Just breathe, Mason. It’s going to be all right.
“So that brain decided to wake the hell up I see.” Glancing up, I watch him sit on the bed. The look of anger and sadness on his face must match my own.
Then my mind is on Jazz—her beautiful smiling face that looks so healthy; the mole resting on her left collarbone that I’ve pictured kissing every night for months; the sound of her husky voice that causes chills to surface all over my body; her contagious laughter. I love everything about her and knowing that child is a part of this woman causes me to love him or her just as much. Then I’m visualizing her pale skin after those couple of dances at Jay Jay’s that first night, and the dark circles under her eyes. She has been tired and sleeping more than usual. Is the pregnancy already causing problems for her? If so, how do I make it better?
I finally take a breath after a minute and look toward Jax, who’s resting his head in his hands. “What’s going to happen to her?”
He looks up and shrugs. “I have no goddamn clue. Every case is different.” He heaves a sigh while I just sit and lean my head against the door. “You really had no clue that pregnancy is bad for her heart, did you?”
“No. I never want anything bad to happen to Jazz. I don’t know what my life would be if it did.” I run my hand down my face and notice I’m sweating.
Jax is watching me with a defeated look. “Look, Mason, I know you care for my sister. It’s obvious to everyone. I also know from the way you look right now, you had no clue what had us all upset Thursday. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want her pregnant, regardless of her health. Then again, she’s almost nineteen and not really a kid anymore, so her being sexually active is something I have to deal with. However, it has to do with her health more so than her being so young.”
Feeling restless, I stand up quickly. Pacing in front of Jax is the only way to keep myself from walking out that door and running to her class. I run my hands in my hair trying to think of a way to fix this but nothing comes to mind. Desperation radiates from my every pore. I look at Jax and remember he’s planning on becoming a cardiologist. He’ll know what to do. “Shit, Jax. What do we do?”
He shrugs. “Nothing. It’s her choice and I know my sister. She’ll go through it no matter what. We just need to watch her. Make sure she doesn’t get too stressed or exert too much energy.” He comes and stands in front of me. “Mason, we’re friends so I’m glad Jazz has you instead of some fucker who would use her. I hope you know what you’re getting into, though. She was a handful before pregnancy so I can only imagine her hormonal.” He gives a small laugh and tries to lighten the mood.
I force a smile, desperate to feel better, but I still feel as though I might pull my hair out if I don’t see Jazz soon. I leave a few minutes later and head to her dorm even though she’s not there yet. I’ll wait until she’s done with her classes. As much as I want to talk with her about her health, I won’t. I know Jazz. She’ll hate me constantly hovering so I’ll just discreetly keep my eye on her.
I lie on my bed fighting another bout of nausea when there’s a knock on my door. I feel like shit and hate moving my body, but I know it’s probably Mason and he’s been relentless lately. Ugh! Why won’t this kid keep the food down?
When I hear the knock again I finally make myself get out of bed. “Hold on. Sweet Jesus, Mason, I just need to make you a stinkin’ key.” I grumble the whole way to the door while trying to get my heavy feet to cooperate. When I finally pull it open, my complaining stops because the last person I expected stands in front of me. “Tru?”
We haven’t seen or talked in a week, and I’ve missed her so damn much. I want to cry and jump for joy at the same time, but I’m still too weak from throwing up a few minutes ago.
She gives me a small smile, and I automatically hate the awkwardness that has invaded our relationship. “Hey.”
Oh screw being weak. I walk up to her as tears blur my vision and grab her into a hug and wail like my dog was just ran over. “Oh my God, Tru.” I sniffle and blubber into her shoulder. I don’t care because my sister is back. “I missed you so much and I’m sorry for making you mad. I’m sorry for your disappointment.”
She pats my back and I notice she’s crying too. “No, Jazz. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being a selfish bitch instead of the friend you needed. I’m sorry for not checking on you or texting you back.” She pulls me away and looks into my eyes that I’m sure match her red, leaky ones. “Most of all I’m sorry for being jealous instead of happy for you.”
That catches me off guard. “What?” I wipe my eyes and snotty nose with the back of my hand. “What do you mean?” I look over Tru’s shoulder and see a few girls watching from the hallway. “Excuse me, don’t be so fucking nosy. If we wanted an audience, we would have sold goddamn tickets. Now move along.” I shoo them away with my hand like they’re rodents and ignore the eye rolls.
Tru starts laughing and grabs my arm to lead me into the room. “I see you haven’t lost your people skills.”
I sit on my bed and pat the space beside me. “Well, my God. Bitches are so nosy.”
She sits down beside me Indian style while wiping her eyes. It reminds me of all those times we’d chat about stupid shit all night long. Well, I did the talking most of the time. “Our rooms are known for the drama. Of course they watch for it. Who needs reality TV if it’s next door—live?”
After we compose ourselves enough to talk, we still remain silent. Where do we start? Tru must feel the same way, but instead of thinking about it, she actually starts the conversation.
“So, like I said, Jazz, I’m so sorry for not being here for you. Knowing I should have been, but not able to get past my own feelings is my only excuse. I was so taken aback at first because you are my friend and never mentioned anything. But the main reason was because I was jealous.”
“Jealous? Why be jealous of becoming a walking vomit dispenser. I can’t keep anything down and certain smells just ruin my day. My bladder is getting more action than I am and it ruins my sleep.” I feel my tears start again and curse the hormones. “Geez, Tru! I can’t stop fucking crying either. I’m either puking, peeing, or crying. So either way something’s always being expelled from my body.”
Tru reaches for my hand and squeezes. “Because, Jazz, I want another baby so bad sometimes.”
“Another baby?” My voice rises a few decibels, and I’m sure the nosy bitches love it. I continue in a whisper. “What are you talking about?”
She wipes her eyes and nods. “I had a son last February. He didn’t make it because he was too small. It hasn’t been easy, and until I met Jax and your family, I thought I was going to drown in my grief. I miss him all the time and would love to hold him again. And even though it’s better, it’s still there. That emptiness.”
Now I understand why she was jealous and my heart hurts for her. “I’m so sorry, Tru. I didn’t mean to get pregnant. I promise. I wasn’t trying to hurt you in any way. God, I’m so sorry
you had to go through that.” I reach over and give her a hug. It’s all I can do for her and I hope it helps, even just a little bit. To be alone with no one to help? Wow! She is way stronger than most people. I would have crumbled into nothing. Now I feel selfish for complaining about something she’d love to be going through again. Why must I always be selfish?
“It’s okay. I know you didn’t purposely get pregnant, silly. I’m also happy for you. It was such a surprise and I just had to grieve for my loss. It’s something that hits every once in a while, but it’s getting easier.”
“Does Jax know?”
“Yes. He was the first person I told. I had to tell him everything before we started dating. He needed to know what a mess I was. And he was so patient and sweet when I told him. He didn’t look at me differently or judge me like I thought he would.” She smiles softly while wiping her eyes before she looks at me with a serious expression. “Please take care of yourself. I didn’t have the support or the money to do what should have been done. Brian was much smaller than usual and…” she stops and looks down with embarrassment “...sometimes I can’t help but blame myself. If I had only gone to the doctor more and bought the vitamins that were too expensive at the time...”
A need to change the subject sets in because I know her. She’s stubborn and no matter what I say, her feelings won’t change. She has to deal with her regrets her own way. “So since Jax was the first to know, am I the second?” She shakes her head and blows some hair out of her face. “Who was?”
“Benji,” she says somberly, and I feel bad for bringing him up. He’s only been gone for a month, but to me it feels longer. I knew they we’re close, but I didn’t know they we’re that close.
We sit lost in our own thoughts for a few minutes before she speaks again. “Will you answer a question for me?” I can only nod my head because I’m dreading whatever it is. “Does Professor Wallace know you’re pregnant?”
Shit. Panicking, I keep my outer appearance from showing it. I don’t need her telling my brother about Ollie and me. I put on my familiar front and smile at her like she’s lost her mind. “Why would Professor Wallace need to know about my pregnancy?”
“Isn’t he the father?” She’s watching me closely, and I hate keeping secrets, but I will keep this one.
“Nah. We’ve been over for a while.” I smile like it doesn’t hurt, but I still feel my heart twist when I think of his deceit and my own stupidity for believing him. I’ve been avoiding anything to do with that man and even dropped his class the first of November.
“Who is then? Mason?”
Seems like Mason’s fucked up wish to play daddy is about to come true. “Yeah.” I stare at my hands, unable to look her in the eye while I blatantly lie. “We hooked up one time. In fact, he was my rebound after Ollie and I ended it. It was no biggie.”
“Are you two dating?”
I feel her eyes on me while I pick under my nails and think over the question. “Um, not dating romantically, but we still hang out. He was totally fine with the arrangement—no ties or regrets.” I look up and smile. “He swears he’s going to stick by me no matter what. Even though I told him not to.”
“I believe it. He’s a really good guy and he’s wonderful with his sister.” She looks at her watch before she stands. “Jax and I want to have you both over Sunday for dinner. Okay?”
After standing, I grab her into a hug and squeeze. “I’ve missed you so much, Tru. Thanks for coming by, and I’ll get with Mason about Sunday.” I watch her leave and sigh. I now officially have a baby daddy.
Racing through traffic, I look at the clock on the dash. We still have half an hour before Jax and Tru are expecting us, but since Mason’s mom had to work an extra shift and use his truck, I’m picking him up from her apartment. I told him Grace could come but he says his neighbor will watch her. I’d rather her come because maybe it wouldn’t feel so much like a date with her there.
I look at my reflection and check my appearance. I might have puked a few hours ago, but dammit, I will look good. Smiling real big, I see some pink lipstick on my front teeth and wipe it off just as my GPS tells me to take a right. Barely making my turn, I hear several honks from behind me and really don’t give a crap.
After I pull into the apartment complex, I see several kids playing basketball in the middle of the parking lot and girls playing jump rope. They look happy and carefree, unlike me when I was that age. Hell, unlike me at this age!
My mind drifts to my childhood and how different it was compared to most children.
“But, Momma, I want to play with Lydia and be on her team,” I cried with angry tears running down my cheeks as I watched my best friend and the other kids pick teams for the kickball game that was about to start. It looked like so much fun every time they had a game and I know I would have been be good at it.
Just once I wanted to play. I was never picked, though. Not because the kids didn’t call my name, but because Momma wouldn’t let me play. She said it wasn’t good for me, but I felt fine. I just wanted to play!
“Honey, we’ve been through this.” She knelt down to my level and looked at me with her pretty brown eyes that reminded me of Hershey’s Kisses. “You can’t get out of breath. It’s not good for your heart.”
I stomped my foot and crossed my arms in front of me. I was so angry and felt stupid for even thinking I’d be able to play. I didn’t fit in with anyone, not even Lydia and she loves pink just like I did. When I heard the other kids laughing, I knew they already started the game without me. Again. Wiping my snotty nose, I stared at my mom. She needed to know how angry I was because she was being mean. “Well, I hate my heart then. I don’t want it anymore.” I took off to my room, not caring that Mom was yelling at me to slow down. I just wanted to be normal.
A knock on my window has me jumping out of my memory and out of my skin. Looking around, I see I’m parked. I guess I was so consumed by my memory I don’t even remember doing it. I turn toward the knocking and see Mason standing there with a concerned look on his cute face. I step out the car and lock it but don’t make a move to walk toward him because his attire catches me off guard.
Instead of his usual logo T-shirt and jeans, he’s wearing a dark green polo and fitted khaki pants. He’s even sporting some Sperrys on his feet. Now it feels like a date because we are both dressed up … but I always dress like this.
Well, not exactly like this. I mean I don’t always wear something so tight, but I’ll be fat in a few months and won’t be able to fit into it anymore. It’s a mid thigh sweater dress with a swoop neck that’s the same shade of pink as my lipstick. I have a thin brown belt around my waist and matching five-inch high-heeled boots that reach my calves. I decided against the tights, though, because I seem to be having hot flashes lately.
We stand there for what feels like forever staring at one another. How did we go from comfortable conversation to uncomfortable silence? Before I can compliment him on his clothes I hear someone call his name. I look in the direction at the same time he does and see a girl about my age or older with dark, brown hair in a stylish pixie cut walking our way. She’s staring me down with her creepy golden eyes like I’m a threat. Oh hell no! I straighten my shoulders and do what I do best—not take shit. I’ve never let anyone see my insecurities except for one person and that will be the last time. People like to play on your weaknesses and I refuse to be weak.
She finally looks toward Mason when she reaches us and smiles sweetly. “Here, idiot. You almost left your phone.” She hands it to him and bumps his shoulder with hers playfully. I see some type of relationship here, but I’m not sure if it’s a romantic one or not. In my opinion he can do way better than her, but I really don’t care.
“Shit. Sorry about that.” He turns toward me smiling and is completely unaware of the bitch stare this girl is still giving me. “Jazz, this is Chanda. Chanda, this is Jazz.” Chanda? What kind of name is that? I internally slap myself for acting like I care … b
ecause I shouldn’t … and don’t.
“Jazz? Like a music genre? Maybe I should call you rap or rock. Hey, I know … techno.”
Okay? Maybe I can hate her name after all. Plus only my friends call me Jazz, and I have a feeling Chanda will not be a friend any time soon, if ever. Instead of taking off my boots to throw down, I stick out my hand, gracing her with the manners my parents raised me with, as well as my Gucci white gold tennis bracelet with its chocolate diamonds. “Actually, I’m named after an exotic flower. Please call me Jasmine. Nice to meet you, Chanda.”
Ignoring my polite introduction and protruded hand, she looks at Mason. “Remember, I need to be at work at midnight.” Then she walks away.
“Well, she’s lovely.” I lower my hand and shake off the embarrassment before I get back in my car. Watching Mason walk around the car to get in, I fight down the urge to drive over Chanda while her back’s turned. I have a feeling this won’t be the last time the compulsion crosses my mind with that bitch.
Walking around the apartment that Jazz is looking at to rent, I notice her excitement as she goes from room to room. I felt the same way when she told me about her talk with Trudy and how she said I was definitely the father. I knew everything would fall into place. I know she still needs to fall in love with me, but I’m a patient person. You have to be with Grace.
We haven’t had an official date or anything yet, and I’m tempted to ask her, but I still can’t get a read on her. Actually, I suck ass when it comes to reading girls period. My one and only girlfriend was my sophomore year and I thought she hung the moon. Little did I know she was screwing some older guy behind my back.