by Nicola Haken
“Yeah?” I questioned, eyeing him up dubiously. Sincerity oozed from his puffy green eyes and I didn’t need any more reassurance. But he offered it anyway.
“Yes. You know, the last thing I remember is praying I’d get to meet our baby. That scares the shit out of me, Rachel. You have no idea how much I want this. Us. Our family. I won’t let you down again,” he promised, reaching over the side of the bed and splaying his hand across my stomach. “Either of you.”
It started with a slight wobble of my lower lip and rapidly increased until my whole jaw was trembling. Then, I gave in to the threat of tears and bawled my eyes out.
“Don’t cry, saffy,” Jared soothed, taking my hand and lifting it onto his chest.
“It’s just… that’s the first time it’s really hit me. With everything else going on, being worried about you and not knowing if we had a future, I’ve barely thought about having a… family. But I want that too. I didn’t realise just how much until right this second, but dear God I want it too.”
“Fucking hell, Rach…” Jared breathed out, pursing his eyebrows like he was in pain. “I genuinely didn’t realise what a selfish bastard I was being. I had no doubt in my mind we had a future together. Knowing that you weren’t sure? That hurts. I had no idea and I’m so fucking sorry.”
“It doesn’t matter now,” I shrugged. “Maybe you were stubborn, maybe I overreacted.”
“You didn’t overreact. I think this kind of proves it,” he said, waving his hand over his battered body.
“Either way, all that matters is this baby. She needs a mummy and a daddy, and we’ve got to make sure we give it to her.” My voice was dripping with seriousness, so why did Jared find it so amusing? “What?” I asked, confused and a little pissed off. In fairness, as you may have gathered, it doesn’t take much to piss me off.
“You always say ‘she’ or ‘her’.” Do I? “I’m pretty sure you don’t get a say in what we have, saffy. In fact, I think the genes that decide whether to sprout a tulip or a ding-a-ling is solely the man’s responsibility.” Christ, if I’d been eating or drinking in that moment, I would almost certainly have choked to death.
“Okay, parenting rule number one: Don’t ever refer to our baby’s parts as a tulip or a ding-a-ling again.”
“Well I’m sorry for not being up on the lingo regarding kids genitals,” he shot back sarcastically. “Wait – that sounded totally fucking wrong. But you know what I mean. So, out of interest… what am I supposed to call them?”
“I don’t know. When I was a kid they were called front-bums and willies.”
“Yeah, ‘cause they’re so much classier than tulip and ding-a-ling.”
For a few perfect seconds we just stared at each other. Then, we both burst into hysterics.
“I’ve missed this,” I said, still chuckling softly.
“What? Talking about tulips and willies?”
“No!” I snapped playfully. “Us. Laughing – being dick heads. It’s what we do best right? It just feels… normal. I feel like everything’s going to be okay.”
“That’s because it is,” he murmured before bringing my hand to his lips and kissing my knuckles. “I’ve been afraid, Rach. I’d almost convinced myself I’ve got some kind of tumour or something. But hearing you say you doubted our future… nothing has ever terrified me more than that. I won’t ever risk losing you again.”
“A tumour?”
“Long story. I had an uncle who had one. The doctors all thought it was epilepsy – until he dropped dead on them.”
“Jared, I-”
“It doesn’t matter,” he cut me off. “Whatever it is, I’m going to get it fixed. I’m going to sort myself out so I can be a good father to our little boy in there,” he said with a smile, accentuating ‘boy’ as he looked at my stomach.
“You know, you’ve come out with some soppy shit in your time but that has to be the most adorable thing ever to leave your mouth,” I admitted. “Man, I wish my legs could move so I could pounce on your right now.”
“It’s probably a blessing in disguise. If you pounced on me just now, I’m pretty sure it’d end my life,” he said with a teasing wink. Though looking at the darkening bruises on his chest, he may not have been far from the truth.
“When they discharge me, we’ll tell our parents about the baby.”
Fuck.
I knew it was coming, but am I really ready for that?
No fucking way.
Then again, will I ever be ready?
Probably not.
“I’m going to tell Jess to grow some big hairy balls too. She’s starting to show and our parents still have no clue.”
“I noticed that earlier,” I agreed. “It’s cute. Just a small bulge that you probably wouldn’t notice if you didn’t know what you were looking for. But still, it makes it more real. I can’t wait to be able to ‘see’ her growing inside me.”
“He will grow when he’s good and ready.”
This is going to be so much fun… And I seriously can’t think of another person I’d rather share this journey with.
“I love you, Jared.”
“It’s a good job. Otherwise I’d feel like a twat having a giant girly flower stuck on my arse for all eternity.” I chuckled softly – the kind that tickles your belly and makes your cheeks ache. “I love you, too, Rach. Always.”
Leaning forward I rested my head on the edge of his mattress. Jared’s fingers picked up random strands of my hair, twisting and curling them and I sighed happily. Everything was slotting into place. I felt content, satisfied… almost whole. There was only one thing missing:
Emily.
Chapter Seventeen
Jared
“Fuck!” I groaned as I bent down to grab my shoes. It’s been two weeks since my accident, and five days since they released me from hospital, but my ribs still hurt like a motherfucker. My arse remains a little sensitive too, and every time the material of my pants stretch, it irritates the hell out of my tattoo. It’s still not completely healed. I can’t see it, but it feels all scabby.
It’s Saturday and Rachel had been given a day off from the gallery, but she decided to spend the morning in the Uni library to catch up on some of the stuff she missed while visiting my sorry arse in hospital. Apparently she can’t study at home – something about me and my immaturity distracting her. I’m choosing to interpret immaturity as meaning gigantic cock.
I was expecting Rachel home any minute – when I say ‘home’, for today I mean my place. I’d say we’re living together, but in two different places. We both have stuff at each other’s flats and we haven’t spent a night apart since I was discharged.
Today was the big day. Our revelation was looming and if I’m totally honest, I felt a little sick. My parents were up first. They were in for a double whammy because Jess was tagging along with her own piece of life-altering news too. Lifting my knee and propping my foot up on the edge of the sofa to tie my shoelace, I played a variety of scenarios over in my head. Funnily enough, they all ended with my dad reiterating what a worthless disappointment I was and me storming out the door.
Rachel’s parents would be a little easier given that they would be hearing the news on the other side of the phone. Personally, I think we should go up north and tell them face to face, but Rachel’s adamant there’s no need to spend money on travelling that far. That’s bullshit of course, because she knows money’s not an issue for me. Not yet anyway. I’m the first to admit I’ve made the most of being a spoilt ‘rich kid’, even though it means I have to swallow most of the shit my dad comes out with without uttering a word. But I swore in my mind the second I found out Rachel was pregnant, if he ever dares say anything disrespectful about our baby, I will cut all ties. I will happily live in a fucking cardboard box before I let anyone insult my kid.
Anyway, moving past my father, I’m sure the reason Rachel won’t head up north is named Emily. She misses her – she’s told me as much. But she’s too damn
stubborn to do anything about it. And if I know Em like I think I do, then she’ll be too busy worrying over the if’s, but’s and why’s to do anything about it either. It can’t go on though. They’re practically sisters. I want Rachel to enjoy being pregnant – enjoy planning our future. She can’t do that without Emily. They’re a part of each other – they need each other. And that’s why I decided to text her.
Me: Rach misses u. She’s just too stubborn to say it. WTF’s gone on with u 2?
Me: P.S. I miss u too
I kept my phone in my pocket so I would hear it if Emily replied. She didn’t. But unlike Rachel I don’t think it’s because she doesn’t give a damn – I think it’s because she must be going through some really serious shit. Rachel knows that too deep down. She’s just hurting and it’s easier for her to cope with those feelings by acting like she doesn’t care.
Speak of the devil…
The buzzer for my apartment sounded so I strolled into the hallway and picked up the receiver.
“Let me up, dickwart,” Rachel greeted. Pleasant isn’t she? That’s why I love her so damn much. Laughing, I hit the button to open the main doors, and then made my way out in the corridor towards the lifts to wait for her.
“So I was thinking,” she immediately started saying the second the doors pinged open. “Maybe we should wait until we’ve seen the doctor,” she continued, exiting the lift and making her way towards my apartment. She still hasn’t seen a doctor due to the whole ‘me being a stubborn fucking idiot and landing myself in hospital’ scenario. But we have a new appointment for Monday morning.
“Nuh uh, saffy. You’re not getting out of it. We are telling people today.” I followed her inside and closed the door behind us. “Before I had the accident I was so nervous about telling my parents. Made it real I guess. But when I heard the metal crunching around me when the van hit, I realised I’ve never wanted anything so badly before in my life. This is real. We are real. And I want the whole fucking world to know about it.”
“Well I’m still nervous,” she said. “Your dad’s a moron.”
“You noticed?” I teased, unable to stop the laughter rolling out of my mouth. If there’s one thing you’re guaranteed to get with Rachel, it’s honesty. And as much as that sometimes scares me, I wouldn’t have her any other way.
“He already hates me. Fuck knows what he’s going to think when we tell him.”
“I’m going there to tell him what’s happening, not ask for his approval.” My buzzer sounded again and I expected it was Jess. She was giving us a ride. Getting a lift of my baby sister… Ugh. It sounds so pathetic. But, I promised Rachel I was going to sort myself out, do everything I’m supposed to. So that’s why I informed the DVLA about my seizures when I left the hospital, causing them to revoke my driving license with immediate effect. Not that I even have a car to drive anymore since it was written off as unsalvageable. I’ve told Jess everything, under strict instructions the news never reaches our parents.
“You coming up?” I asked down the receiver when Jess announced her arrival.
“No. Let’s just get this over with. I’ll wait in my car out front.” Wow she sounded nervous - more so than Rachel. It didn’t make sense to me. I was so fucking proud in that moment and I couldn’t wait to tell the world the woman I love is growing my baby inside of her.
“You ready?” I asked, popping my head around the doorframe and locking my eyes on Rachel.
“No,” she pouted. Chuckling, I walked up and took hold of the handles on the back of her chair.
“Tough. Come on, saffy.” Then, whether she was ready or not, I started pushing her towards the door and off to meet my joyous parents.
**********
“You’re early!” my mum beamed when she opened the door to us. “It’s so rare we are all together lately. I’ve been looking forward to today all week.” Well I’m betting the fine mood you’re in isn’t going to last too long. She gave me and then Jess a kiss on the cheek and then turned her attention to Rachel. “And Rachel,” she continued, holding out her hand for Rachel to take. “It’s lovely to see you again. And in much better circumstances.”
“Same to you, Sue.” I saw my mum’s smile falter ever so slightly and I knew immediately why. Rachel called her Sue instead of Mrs Mattheson. My parents are a little up their own arses in that respect.
We followed my mum inside and through to the living room where my dad was sitting, reading a newspaper. As you can imagine, he only reads The Times. I’m more of a tabloid kinda guy – tits of the day, who’s fucking who, that kind of thing. The Times is too intellectual to be interesting and have you seen the size of that motherfucker? It’s too big to fold the pages over without getting into a fistfight with it. I’m sure my dad only reads it because he thinks it makes him look important.
“Hi, Dad,” Jess greeted in what I call her ‘spoiled princess’ voice, bending down to Dad’s armchair and kissing his cheek. She was sucking up. Like that was going to make the slightest difference. Seriously, how naïve was that?
“Dad,” I said curtly, nodding once.
“Are you sure you can’t stay for dinner tonight?” my mum asked, again. “I’ve bought plenty of food.”
“I’m sorry, Mum but we have things to do. We actually just came here because we have some news we wanted to share with you.”
“Jesus Christ,” my dad groaned, slapping his newspaper closed. “You’ve knocked her up haven’t you?” My mum gasped and threw her hand over her mouth.
“Jared?” Mum pressed, her voice trembling. “Is this true?”
“If you mean is Rachel pregnant with my baby. Then yes, it is. You’re going to be a grandma.”
“Oh, Jared that’s-” Whatever she planned to say was abruptly cut off by my dad. But dare I say she looked…happy?
“When are you going to stop disappointing us?” my dad chimed in. “We gave you the same upbringing as your sister. Why can’t you make us proud like she has?” Whoa, it took every trace of my limited maturity not to yell ‘guess what, arsehole? Your precious princess is up the snuff too!’ “She always studied so hard in school, then granted she decided university wasn’t for her but at least she’s trying to make a career for herself. She’s an officer of the law, whereas you? You work in backstreet dive for my waste of space brother! Where did we go wrong with you, Jared?”
“Al, I think that’s enough…” my mum interrupted meekly. I could see Rachel’s fingers flexing beside me and I knew there was only so much more she would take before she’d blow. Maybe I should’ve been nervous about that, but I was kind of interested to hear what she had to say. A pissed off Rachel is a fun Rachel.
“Like hell it’s enough!” my dad retorted, standing angrily from his chair as if his extra two inches of height gave him power over me. “How do you expect to raise a child working in a pub for crying out loud? Because I’m telling you now, boy… if you think you can lay it all on my door you’ve got another thing coming. You think you’re adult enough to get a girl pregnant, then you’re adult enough to take responsibility for it yourself.”
The way he said ‘it’ with such distaste didn’t go unnoticed.
“I don’t want or need your money, Dad,” I snapped, draping a protective arm across Rachel’s shoulders.
“Well you haven’t had a problem living off my fucking money so far in your pointless life.”
“Alistair,” my mum tried to admonish. Again, he cut her off.
“And what about you, lady?” he turned to Rachel. “You’re very quiet down there.”
“Dad,” I warned firmly. Like hell was I going to let him rip into Rachel. But then Rachel held her hand up, quietening me.
“No, Jaz. Let him finish. I’m intrigued to hear what he has to say to me.” She was so calm and collected, despite her flexing fingers curling into fists. She was simmering – I could tell. If my father expected her to either back down or leave, he was in for a nasty surprise.
“You have incompl
ete spinal damage, yes?”
“Yes,” Rachel answered, seeming genuinely curious where my dad was taking this.
“I have seen many patients in your position. It is difficult enough trying to take care of yourself. How in the world do you propose to take care of a child? If it falls over, which it will, how do you plan to get to its aid? Or what if you had an accident, do you plan to let the child fend for itself until help arrives?” I opened my mouth to tell him to shut the fuck up but again Rachel raised her hand. Her blood was on the verge of boiling – I could practically feel the heat rising from her skin. “A child deserves an able parent. Quite frankly, I wouldn’t class either of you as able.”
“Okay,” Rachel said on an exhale, before dragging in a breath deep enough to withstand the tornado I just knew was about to explode from her mouth. Tucking my hands in my pockets, I stood back and waited for my girl to do her thing.
“Firstly, why in fuck’s name did you become a doctor? Isn’t compassion one of the required traits for that shit? Second, don’t ever assume that you know what I am and am not capable of. You don’t know a thing about me so please don’t insult me by professing that you do. I have grown up in this chair so I’ve had no choice but to adapt. I’ve never known another way and neither will our baby. Sure, I have no idea what to expect, but we will learn. Together. All three of us.
“And for your information I am a fully functioning member of society. I don’t need anyone to wipe my arse and I sure as hell won’t need help wiping my baby’s either. Granted, things might take me a little longer than most people, but this baby will have the most important things any child could need from a parent. Love. Guidance. Support. Pride. You know, all the things Jared doesn’t get from you?
“What’s more, Jared and I don’t expect anything from this baby in return. I don’t care if he gets a masters degree or a job scrubbing the toilets in McDonalds. If he makes mistakes, so what? We’ll support him. The only thing I want from this child is the knowledge that he or she is safe and happy. And we are capable of that, Mr Mattheson. We are capable of making sure this kid knows it is the most important person breathing on this planet.