Next to You (Life)

by Claudia Y. Burgoa

  “Something happened, but not the way you think.” She finally looks at me, as if knowing my instant disapproval. “I lost it—the baby. Two days before my appointment. During the night I had cramping, back pain and by the end of my second period class, my classmates mocked me for staining the seat with blood. The nurse helped me, again. She gave me clean clothes and drove me to a free clinic outside of Boston where they did some procedure. She tried to convince me to call my parents or at least seek a counselor, but I refused, holding onto that story that I didn’t want them to suffer after Lisa.

  “In my mind, I had killed him, Dan, with my hate, my prayers and the poison I carried inside.” She shakes her head and hunches her shoulders. “That made me ten times worse than Donna; the person who hated her own child.

  “There’s my very last secret.” Her trembling body can barely keep her standing, her words come out shaky. “One of the many things I carried with me for so long. It’s just another reason why I told you that you could find better than me. You said you want kids, a family and during those days I thought… I made myself believe I was a murderer. After what I had done, I didn’t deserve happy, or a chance to have another kid.

  “In September of last year, a little boy that looked so much like Ian got lost in the crowds of the mall.

  “‘Mommy,’ he yelled and cried right in front of me.

  “I froze, Dan.” Becca releases her arms and begins to tug her sweater. “Instead of helping him my body numbed itself and my chest tightened. He brought that memory back, the one of the child I murdered—lost. The next thing I knew, the paramedics were asking me questions about my family. Who to call and other things I couldn’t remember because the mother and the child remained in front of me, staring down and I felt judged by them. Crazy, of course, their reasons to stand and watch had to do with something else. From there, the bad dreams intensified and my mind couldn’t get past the ideas I set in stone years ago. Then I met Ryan—Ian’s nephew. The idea that I got rid of someone just like him haunted me too. If I hadn’t wished him dead, I would have a six year old child, but my selfishness had won and he died.

  “I forgave myself,” her tearful voice continues. I take a step forward to hug her, and she takes one backwards and holds a hand high as she shakes her head. “Not for killing the baby, but for being stupid. Years later, extensive and expensive therapies and the maturity to understand what happened back then has allowed me to forgive. It’s clear now that everything was the result of a sequence of events outside of my control, including getting pregnant and losing the baby. Did the prayers help? Perhaps they did work but in some different way, like keeping me sane and burying everything that happened, because God knows what would’ve happened to me if I had to face my nightmares back then. Losing the baby that way was a blessing in disguise. Not that losing a life is, but… Would I have survived physically or mentally after doing it?

  “It is clear to me, that a baby back then isn’t the same as one today. I wanted to believe that when I was ready, it would happen. That I’d have a baby, a product of love.” I don’t like the past tense, and now I’m worried because adding the speech she gave me over at the Sanders’, she is giving me the notion that either she doesn’t want them or… “I was late, for a week. I had this internal discussion going inside my head about it. What will you think about the baby? Would you freak out, how many steps would you skip?” She scratches her chin. “Last Saturday, I went to the pharmacy to buy a pregnancy test.” Then she pauses. “They had four shelves with like six different brands and types and… the trip itself overwhelmed me. As I arrived home I took one and it came out inconclusive. I told myself to wait another day. However, around midnight, when I was getting ready for bed…” She got her period, I remember and also the sad face and the moment she collapsed on the bed and said she was too tired for anything.

  “I Googled.”

  “How many times have I told you that it’s not a magic eight ball?” I flap my hands, because she likes to diagnose herself with that damn thing. “Enlighten me, what the hell is wrong with you according to Dr. Google, that is about to break us up again?”

  “If they didn’t perform the procedure at the free clinic correctly,” she sighs, “chances are I might not be able to have a baby or will have difficulties. Everything was fine, until Ash gave us the news and you jumped on the baby train. That’s going to be us soon, you said…or something along the lines. My point is that I—“

  “That I love you, Rebecca,” I interrupt her because the hormonal train she jumped on when I jumped the baby train hasn’t stopped yet. Can PMS last an entire week?

  “First, don’t do this to yourself, Bex.” I finally approach her and envelop her into a tight hug. “We’re not even trying to have babies yet. When have I not delivered, Princess? Don’t forget the insta-family I want…triplets right?” She chuckles after that pathetic joke. “I always get the job done, even under the worst conditions.” She growls and laughs and I decide to stop the stupid jokes. “In all honesty, don’t forget that science these days can make everything possible. Nonetheless, we have another option, adoption. Look at Ophie and Rich Swanson. They couldn’t have children but they are the parents of two rowdy men. Bud and I will always be thankful to them.”

  “You don’t hate me?” she whispers. “I saw the rage in your eyes when I told you—”

  “I’m sorry, I have no right to judge, but just so you know, I would’ve been there for you.” I rub her back to smooth the stiffness accumulated after making her talk. Yes, I’m an asshole, but talking face to face brings us together on a deeper level. “You were a kid yourself, one who had gone through hell and barely came out alive. Let me assure you that even back then you had a support system; Ash, Ty and of course me.

  “You know how I think it would have played out. You go to the clinic, freak out about it and call me right before you go inside the room. Either Nate or I would’ve picked you up. At the end, we would’ve found a way to work things through—together.” I kiss the top of her head. “That’s the Becca and Dan way—us against the world. I’m not saying you’d be a mom, most likely we’d have given the kid to a couple that wanted it. Thank you for telling me, now I get what happened back on September twenty first of last year.” She pushes herself a little and stares at me. “That’s when the domino effect took place and everything crumbled down. A part of me wishes you had stayed next to me, so I could have been there for you while fighting all these dragons, warlocks and witches, but it seems that you were smarter and took the mature way to fix your crap. I don’t like that you shut me down, baby, but I get you had to work it out before confronting me. From now on, talk to me, like I do every time something is bothering me. So, you want to go upstairs to practice that baby making thing?”

  Chapter 36

  “They are going fast,” Becca says, as we make our way from what will be the kitchen to the family room. The house in Napa Valley is part of a one hundred and fifty acre vineyard Buddy and I bought. We decided to venture into the world of wine. Moving to California fueled my brother with new ideas, one that included being our next door neighbor. “I thought we agreed you’d only use one crew. I won’t complain, this is for the best.”

  “No, you agreed to it,” I correct her. “Bex, at this pace they’ll be done around summer. One crew would’ve taken six to eight months. You usually take your time choosing the décor and… let’s just walk through and see if you have any changes. Shall we?”

  The crews are working hard to have this built within the next four months… unless I add another crew. That crew is almost done with the indoor gym, but for now I don’t mention it to Becca, I don’t want her to freak out. She loves the location, the house plans and likes the idea that someday Buddy will build his own house and become our neighbor. At the beginning Tyler tried to convince her—us—to live closer to him, in San Francisco. Thankfully Becca loves the peacefulness of Napa and the slower lifestyle. According to her, if she wants the fast pace o
f the city, it will only take her about an hour drive to enjoy it and at night, she can come back home. Our offices in San Jose aren’t far away from here and as I previously established, since I’m the boss, I get to set my own schedule or work from home.

  “Are those the stables?” Becca asks, when we reach the master suite. The view toward the stables and the vineyard are breathtaking. We’re going to have great sunsets. I nod. “Do you think they’ll finish it soon? Because I miss Gemma and Dustin—our horses—are you going to hire—”

  “Everything is set for them to arrive early next month, Bex.” I rub her back. Each time we visit the house, she hyperventilates with the most ridiculous details. Like last Saturday, she asked several times about the number of bedrooms—four is plenty for now. We need two guest rooms. She brought up the children… because we’re having three, maybe four. As I explained to her, there’s a blueprint to expand the house, once she’s pregnant. It won’t take more than a month to convert the spacious office inside the master bedroom into a nursery and add the necessary space to the house. Today it is all about the horses… I worry about next week’s freak out. “Are you trying to micromanage again, Princess?”

  “No, I mean, I have valid points and questions, Dan. Children, horses… you name it.” She tilts her head. “I worry that they aren’t going to like Rusty or vice versa. I mean, Rusty loves to visit Ophie and Rich, play around the farm, but Gemma and—”

  “What is it?” I ask and she shakes her head. My head spins each time her mood swings hit me with all they have. One moment she laughs at the saddest things in the universe and then she cries because we ran out of ice cream. “Love, I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me.”

  “Nothing…I’m—”

  “It’ll be perfect,” I tell her, pulling her petite figure against mine. “We’ll make sure to fill it with everything, but the most important thing is love, baby. This isn’t our first rodeo. How many houses do we own? You made all of them part of us, they have the Becca touch and they all feel like home. Our family house won’t be the exception, actually you’ll make it better.”

  “You’re right, I’m just… hormonal,” she says and smiles. “Do you have time? I need to go to the doctor. He wants to talk to me about the results. I don’t want to do it alone.”

  Becca’s health worries me more than I let her know. On a daily basis she complains of headaches, her stomach is upset and furthermore her face is pale.

  “Of course, I’ll go with you, Bex. We’ll go to the doctor who will confirm you’re healthy, Princess,” I reassure her, because she looks nervous. I act confident but I prepare for the worst. Why can’t the nurse call and say everything is normal or that they need to do a certain procedure. Unless… I don’t want to think about it. “Drew said it was nothing to worry about, only to swing by the doctor’s office for a checkup since your last was almost two years ago.”

  *

  “Everything is going to be fine,” I tell Becca even though I want to call Drew and ask him to come and explain to me exactly what’s wrong with Becca. I don’t trust this doctor. “After this we’ll go for lunch and forget about the visit.”

  “You’re a terrible liar, Brightmore.” She smiles. “You’re freaking out. Can you hand me my bottle of water, I’m nauseous again. I think it’s the smell of hospital stench.”

  “Princess, lately everything makes you want to puke,” I remind her. “Thankfully it hasn’t happened—yet.”

  This is just fucked up, my mind is running every possible scenario and how we can fix it. It all began when the nurse walked us to the sonogram room, where they told her to undress from the waist down because they had to do a trans-vaginal ultrasound to check her uterus. What the fuck can be wrong with her uterus?

  The doctor arrives, introducing the technician who’ll perform the sonogram.

  “Are you ready Miss Trent?” the doctor asks and she nods excitedly. That’s the spirit, I want to say. I should beam as they tell us the bad news, shouldn’t I? “Have you told him yet?”

  “No, it’s a surprise,” she says and avoids my eyes.

  The technician explains to Becca that she’ll be inserting a probe and that there’s a slight possibility of some spotting, but nothing to worry about—unless the bleeding turns heavy. Becca flies on cloud nine and nods; as I control myself and wait for the doctor to speak.

  “There,” he points to the grainy gray screen where a tadpole like head appears with tiny arms and… holly shit.

  “Is that?” I ask Becca who nods and smiles at me, taking her gaze back to the screen. I place my hand on her belly and close my eyes for a second. “Our baby,” I breathe the words out, as I tell myself that her health isn’t at risk, we’re pregnant.

  “According to the measurements, she’s nine weeks pregnant,” the technician says.

  As the technician moves the wand, I notice another flash of white among the dark grainy. “Go back,” the doctor says at the same time I do.

  “Twins,” the technician and the doctor say.

  The technician switches from one wand to the other and she squeezes some gel on top of Becca’s belly.

  “That’s why the blood work came back the way it did, you’re segregating a large amount of hormones,” the doctor says. “Your last period must have been some spotting, it says here it was five weeks ago.”

  “Ten weeks,” the technicians says while continuing with measurements of baby A and baby B.

  I make a few calculations in my head and four weeks ago Becca had that hormonal melt down where she believed a baby might not happen for us. When in fact she already carried inside not one, but two.

  As I’m able to unglue my eyes from my children to Becca, I realize she’s staring at them while crying. There are moments in life that define who we are, who we’ll become from that moment forward and right now in a blink of an eye we become parents, blessed with two babies.

  “I love you.” I finally pay attention to my girl, the one that’s carrying our precious family. “That’s why you were trying to tell me earlier to add the rooms now, isn’t it?” She nods and sighs.

  “And you mentioned last week I was a terrible actress.” She is, but I refuse to burst her bubble today. “Congratulations, Mr. Brightmore, you’re a dad.”

  I’m a father, and just like that I bend to kiss her. Tomorrow I’ll contact the architect, to add the second section to the house. It will add another three to four weeks of construction, because we need at least two more bedrooms, a bigger nursery, an extra room for the downstairs area and a second family room. No matter what we decide is our magic number we can add more rooms.

  “Are you happy?” I question, only to confirm we’re on the same page. She nods. “Thank you, for trusting me with your heart, for taking care of mine, and for giving me a family.”

  “Happy tears?” she questions. I nod, as I bury my head in the crook of her neck because we’re both weeping some. “Would you be upset if I propose?”

  “Yes,” I whisper in her ear. “You must remember we’re leaving for New York this weekend and you better hold your tongue. This time I’m doing it right.”

  My window of opportunity is about to close, since they’ll be shutting the Rockefeller Center Ice-Skating rink by the end of the month. I rented it for Friday at midnight. I hope there’s a shooting star or a plane to wish upon. The new ring is ready, a two carat pink round cut diamond—smaller than the original—embraced with pink and clear diamonds. The old ring is now a pendant, a present I’ll give her later.

  The doctor and technician left us earlier to let Becca get dressed. We head toward the doctor’s office where he gives us a guide on multiple gestation pregnancy, he sends a prescription for vitamins and other supplements and gives us his private number at my request.

  “You know,” I tell her as we leave the office, “having you is everything, Becca.” My last words smother on her lips when I pull her into my arms. She buries her hands in my hair and begins to massage my skull sending
shivers through my spine. Reluctantly we part, mainly a move from my part. PDA is better kept at the minimum. The last thing I want is the newspapers talking about my girl. “My babies are the cherry on top.”

  “Thank you, Danny, for not giving up on me, even when I did.”

  Epilogue

  “Ayd’s bassinet is empty, Dan.” Becca twists her mouth, she’s holding Theia and stares at my arms. After she finished feeding Ayden, I sat with him in the rocking chair. He sleeps soothingly on top of my chest with a smile on his face as I rock him.

  “Don’t put Theia in her crib, Baby,” I whisper while I accommodate Ayd on the right side of my chest. “Give her to me.”

  “You spoil them too much, Dan.” She walks toward me.

  “No, I’m bonding. The same way you do when you think I don’t notice,” I say and blow a kiss in her direction, as she settles Theia on the left side of my chest. At four weeks, they are still below their height and weight, but recovering. We brought them home a week ago. During their stay at the hospital, not once did we leave their side. One of us always remained with them when the other had to do deal with work. “Have you heard from the Sanders, Bex?”

  “No.” Ashley went into labor earlier today, Zoe, their third baby will join these two soon. “I’m sad that we couldn’t take Angie and Mattie, but I can’t risk bringing germs into the house; not yet. The doctor said that we should keep them inside for the next four weeks and avoid visitations as much as possible.”

  “They understand, Princess.” She turns on the iPod dock I installed and the ‘Mozart for babies’ music starts. As Theia snuggles the same way her mother does when I hug her, my chest swells. I adore these babies. We got lucky, after all the shit we both were thrown at and into, as Becca likes to say, we finally have our HEA. After a short engagement—two weeks—we married here, in the Vineyard. The garden was the perfect setting for an evening wedding where we invited family only—Buddy, Raj, Drew, The Swansons and the Sanders. Becca’s idea—she organized the event. A few weeks later we threw a party for the rest of the world to announce our marriage, though only some associates, our friends and a few colleagues attended the affair. By then the house was ready for us to move in; of course I added another crew and they worked around the clock to finish right when we came back from our honey moon. “We should make another set of tiny Brightmores.”