by Mia Kayla
There was a knock on the door, and Dad peered in. I wiped the corner of my eyes with my fingertips and straightened out my skirt.
"Kent. Beth. Everything okay in here?"
"Yeah, Dad, everything's fine," I said, mustering a small smile. This was exactly why I didn’t want to have the baby talk at work.
Kent’s gaze dropped to the floor.
Dad stared at both of us for a second before speaking.
"Both of you. In my office. Now."
Kent:
I'd been to the principal's office numerous times when I was in high school, but from the way Beth sat at the edge of her seat and wrung her hands tightly together in her lap, I knew she'd never been in trouble with authority. My father served as the principal at Plack Industries, and here we were in his office, getting reprimanded. I had a sudden urge to reach for her hand because she looked like she was nervous but more than that, it was as though an overwhelming sadness had consumed her. Sensing her melancholy mood was like a punch in the gut because I knew that it had everything to do with me.
Jack Plack sat behind his wide mahogany desk, one leg propped against his knee. Behind him, on a matching mahogany bookshelf, were pictures of me when I was younger, pictures of my mother, and pictures of Beth and my wedding day, all displayed in gold frames.
"I don't know what's going on, nor do I want to. It's really none of my business." He scanned both of our faces. "I've been married almost forty years, and I know that sometimes you guys will have your tiffs. God knows, me and your mother have gone through ours. Either way, you guys will get through whatever it is you were fighting about." He scooted his chair in closer so we would have his undivided attention. "But I highly suggest you don't settle this at work. You both have been very professional about keeping your private lives separate from your work life so far. I assume this one time is an isolated incident?" He raised an eyebrow, his eyes flickering toward Beth, then focusing on me.
We both nodded in unison.
"And I assume this will not happen again, correct?"
I leaned in, blocking Dad's view of Beth. Maybe her nervousness would ease. "Dad, it won't. I take full responsibility. Beth didn't want to discuss our issues at work, and I can't function when we’re fighting, so I wanted to resolve it."
"Alright then." Dad nodded and stood from his seat. "Since this is settled, I have to get back to work."
"Sorry. It won't happen again," Beth said, with a firm gaze.
We both got up to leave, but stopped when I heard my father call my name. I was familiar with his tone——the tone that told me that I was in deep shit. "Kent, I need a word with you."
With one last look, my wife shut the door behind her, leaving my father and me in the room together, alone.
I took a seat and let out an exaggerated sigh.
If he heard it, he ignored me as he continued. "I'm going to talk to you as your father now, not as your boss." My father propped on the edge of the desk, nodding toward the seat I had formerly occupied.
My father always had this look on his face when I was about to be talked to, or more so, lectured to. When I was in high school, I'd learned how to tune him out yet still look like I was paying attention.
"I've been married a while so I know a few things about marriage." Dad folded his hands in front of him. "I know it's not easy, and I know marriage is a lot of give and take. It also takes loads and loads of compromise. But in the thirty eight years that I've been married to your mother, I've only seen her cry a handful of times. Most of those tears were happy tears, like on your graduation and wedding day, but some of those tears were not so happy tears. And I'll be the first to admit, I'm an ass sometimes."
If I could nod in agreeance without seeming like an ass myself, I would have. My father’s work and his drive to succeed consumed him. When I was younger, his time was focused on work and I knew that was what frustrated my mother the most.
My father’s firm eye contact met mine. "I'll admit it. Sometimes I'm not giving her what she wants or not listening to her needs. It breaks my heart, and I hate it when I see my wife cry because I love her beyond words. Every time she does cry, I know it's my job to make it better, to fix it. It's what I promised on our wedding day in front of God and the whole congregation. For better or worse, it's my job to fix it, to erase those tears and to make her happy."
Dad moved directly in my line of sight and spoke firmly. "Either way, if you’re like me, which I assume you are because you’re my son, you'll fix it. Whatever that sweet girl was crying about in that copy room, you'd better fix it before those sad tears turn to angry tears," he said, pointing at me. "You love her?"
His words jolted me, and I sat straighter in my seat. Of course I loved her.
Through the years, when Dad would lecture me, I’d never let him finish. I’d try to argue against whatever he was trying to say. Sometimes, I’d stare at the wall in front of me and tune him out. This time, I knew he was absolutely right. There was a reason he’d kept a marriage intact for thirty eight years.
I just replied to his question, simply. "Yeah, Dad. I love her more than anything."
He moved directly in front of me, leaning into my face.
"Then fix it," he said. "Before we see you for dinner tonight."
Point made.
Beth:
My body felt like it was overheating as I stripped off my suit jacket and undid a couple of buttons at the top of my silk shirt. The stuffy conference room made me feel as though I was in a concert, standing room only.
My stomach turned over with nausea, tiredness consumed me, and I was in a constant state of worry. But I could do nothing but stay in my seat at the head of the table as my team gave their monthly updates. Cold sweats crept up the back of my neck as my stomach flipped with unease.
My hands flew to my belly. Maybe if I held the baby, it would calm Little Em down.
My eyes flickered to my stomach, tuning out the noise in the background. I knew something beautiful was happening inside, but I couldn't be happy because I wasn't fully sure if Little Em was okay. I'd feel better once I saw the doctor. Until then, I doubted this unease would lighten.
I grabbed my water and gulped it back, thankful that Vivian was done with her presentation.
"Thank you, guys. Please email me your numbers today." I stood and braced the board room table, feeling unstable. A few stares flickered in my direction, but I smiled through it.
As soon as everyone left, it happened. The scent of someone's cologne heightened the churning in my gut and had me running down the hall, into the stall, and dropping to my knees. I threw up everything in my stomach until nothing was left and dry heaving took over.
After I stood, my hands braced the walls of the stall to keep myself steady. Hot tears formed behind my eyes. This was too much. All of it.
After one long calming breath, I composed myself and forced myself to leave the bathroom. The most awkward smile was plastered on my face as I strolled down the hall. Once I stepped into my office, I grabbed my purse and pivoted back around.
I shut my office door behind me and turned to my secretary, Amy. "Please cancel the rest of my meetings. I'm not feeling well today and will be heading home. Just call me on my cell if it’s an emergency and please let Jack know.”
Concern crossed her features. "Sure thing. I hope you feel better, Beth."
I nodded and rushed out the door. I couldn’t get out of the office fast enough. When I stepped outside, I inhaled deeply, filling my own and my baby's lungs with fresh air.
It didn't even take a few minutes before Dad called me to see if I was okay. I told him that I thought I had eaten something bad for lunch. After we hung up, I knew he'd call Kent.
Sure enough, before I even got out of the parking lot, Kent called me and I picked up via the car phone.
"Hey." His voice sounded concerned but was hushed with caution. I wondered if it was guilty concern, given how we'd ended our last conversation. "I heard you're not feeling w
ell. You could’ve called me."
My fingers gripped the steering wheel tighter to keep me steady as my stomach flipped. "Sorry, I just needed to get out of there. I'm fine now. I think I just ate a bad lunch." I rolled down all the windows to ease the nausea. I really didn't want to clean vomit from my car. That would make an already bad day worse.
I listened to Kent's breathing as the quiet stretched between us. We both knew this wasn't about a bad lunch. The tension in our relationship was at an ultimate high.
"I'm coming home," he said.
"No, it's fine." I didn't want him to come home. I just wanted to be alone.
He sighed heavily on the other line, and then more silence filled my ears. After a few more beats, he spoke. "Okay, just call me if you need me. I'll be home right after work."
"See you then."
When he hung up, I slumped against the steering wheel, my whole body giving out. I wanted to tell him, “I do need you. I need you to tell me this will be okay. That the baby is going to be okay. That you want this baby, too. That we will survive this.”
During my ride home, my chest tightened into a knotted rope. The feeling only intensified as I stepped into the hallway of our condo. I dropped my bag and my laptop onto the floor and forced my whole body to relax by bringing deep breaths into my nose and exhaling through my mouth.
All this stress couldn't be good for the baby, so I needed to make a conscious effort to relax. My number one job was to take care of the tiny human life growing inside me.
The phone rang in the background, and I debated whether to answer it. Finally, I strolled toward the living room and picked up on the fourth ring.
"Beth?"
My mother-in-law's sweet voice filled my ears, and I pulled the phone closer. Hearing her alleviated the fear within me, even for just a moment. I didn't realize I needed comforting until her voice echoed through the receiver.
"Hi." I released a long, jagged sigh.
I was sure Dad had called her to tell her I wasn't well, and I appreciated it. If I hadn’t picked up, I was sure she'd try my cell next.
"Beth, hi honey. How’re you doing?"
Heat formed behind my eyes. I craved the tenderness in her tone. "I'm okay, just having stomach issues." I leaned against the wall for support, my upper body tensing as though the weight of the whole day was on my shoulders. I wanted to tell my mother-in-law so badly. My insides craved to tell someone else who would have been ecstatic for us, but first Kent and I needed to pass this hump.
"I can always come over and make my famous chicken noodle soup. It works wonders." She laughed. "Maybe we could do that instead of dinner tonight."
"No, it's okay. I'll be ready for dinner." Funny thing was her chicken noodle soup did work wonders, but it wouldn't cure this. I loved his family. They had accepted me when I was alone and when my own flesh and blood had hurt me. But at the end of the day, I couldn't complain to her about what was really bothering me——her son and our future.
"Is something wrong, honey?"
My hand flew to my stomach. To calm myself, the baby? Who knew?
Even though Karen Plack wasn't my biological mother, she always knew when I was upset and, although she didn't meddle, she always knew when Kent and I were arguing.
"No, I'm just not feeling well."
"Your stomach hurts? Maybe you're having a baby." She laughed lightheartedly.
I bit my cheek as a strong emotion coursed through me. Did she know? Although she’d never pressured us, she would joke around Kent and call it wishful thinking. There was no doubt she wanted grandchildren to spoil.
I kept my voice as steady as I could. "Wouldn't that be great?"
"Great? That would be more than great. That would be the best news of the century!"
My chest hurt, and a warmth pushed behind my eyes. I doubted my ability to keep it together any further on the phone. Damn hormones. "Mom, sorry I have to go. I think I just need to lay down."
"Okay, Beth, but don't worry. Babies will happen soon. We'll see you tonight."
"Thanks."
After she hung up, I dropped the phone and slid to the floor as tears fell down my cheeks. I don't think I've ever cried so much in my life as I had these last few days.
But when the crying fit stopped, I felt numb, not better. Sometimes, everyone needed a good cry, but nothing would curb this feeling I had inside, hoping my baby was okay, hoping Kent and I were okay.
There was no one I could talk to. If I told my best friend, Kendy, about our situation and how Kent had been acting, she would have his balls on a stick.
I’d never felt so alone.
I didn’t know how long I'd been sitting on the floor, staring at the tiny lines in our hardwood, but when I heard the door fly open, I stood and rushed to the kitchen to give myself something to do. But the sudden motion had me feeling unsteady, and I braced myself at the sink as the water ran between my fingertips.
Kent dropped his briefcase on the floor, the thud echoing in the kitchen. Anxiety crept up my throat, and a moment later I felt his presence behind me as I washed the morning dishes in the sink.
He kissed my cheek. "Hey. I couldn't stay at work, knowing you're feeling this way.” He started to massage my shoulders. "Are you still up for dinner tonight?"
When I froze at his touch, he dropped his hands and the air filled with uncomfortable silence. That silence seemed to be the norm between us recently.
"Yes. I'm fine," I lied, feeling horrible and bone tired. It took every effort to keep myself upright.
He stood there for a second, unmoving. My eyes focused on the running water in the sink, feeling the water rush past my fingertips.
After a beat, he kissed the top of my head. "I'll just change out of my suit." The hurt was evident behind his tone, and it gutted me.
My shoulders sank as a lump formed in the back of my throat. Would it always be like this? Was this what our relationship had come down to? Would this forever slump of fighting end?
I dried my hands and headed to the bathroom to fix my makeup.
Stopping at the mirror, I glanced at my reflection. The woman staring back at me had changed in the last week. There were bags under her eyes, her face was sunken, and her cheeks were without their natural luster. But it was her eyes that were the most different. Those eyes staring back at me, although they were the same emerald green that belonged to me, were the eyes of a woman I didn't recognize.
I had definitely lost weight, which made sense because everything I'd been putting in had been coming out. Squaring my shoulders, I observed her one last time. I felt a new determination rise up in me. Because something needed to change before I lost the woman I was completely.
Chapter 6
Beth:
The Peninsula Hotel had the best food in the universe. In my former life, I could’ve stayed for brunch and dinner, ate everything at the buffet, and still ordered a few things off the menu. But not today. Not when the scent of grease from Kent's steak made me want to rush to the bathroom and throw up whatever was left in my stomach.
Dinner once a month had been a tradition my mother-in-law had started shortly after we were married. I was the first one to jump on the Peninsula meal train, always excited to spend time with my in-laws. But today was the exception. My body felt overly tired, and all my senses were heightened, especially my sense of smell, which only intensified the nausea. But I knew Mom and Dad would know something was wrong if I cancelled. Dad had already seen us fighting at the office, and I didn't want to add more worry to their lives.
"Do you want something different? You haven't touched your meal," Kent said, placing his hand on top of mine.
My fork poked at my uneaten Chicken Kiev on my plate "No." That one answer, simple but curt, had both Mom and Dad staring at each other before turning toward us.
Great. That look confirmed that my father-in-law had clued my mother-in-law in on what had happened in the office.
"Maybe something to drink?" Kent aske
d. "Sprite to ease your stomach?"
"No thank you." I forced my voice to lighten for my in-laws’ benefit, but my eyes dropped to my plate as I felt everyone's focus on me.
"Have you seen a doctor, dear? Maybe you're coming down with something." Mom spoke with concern.
"No, I'm pretty sure this stomach thing will pass," I said, peering up at her. I had researched on the internet that after three months, usually the morning sickness eased up. Though in my situation, it was the morning-noon-and-night sickness.
"Have you made an appointment with the doctor at all?" Kent leaned in and slid his chair closer to the table. "Aren't you supposed to see the doctor soon?"
I wasn't going to start our heated conversation in front of his parents, so I shot him a look and he piped down.
Mom furrowed her eyebrow, and her lips twitched into a smile. "Is there something we should know here, or something you want to tell us?"
Without warning, without even discussing it with me first, he surprised me by sharing the news all by himself.
Kent placed his hands on mine. A nervous smile touched his lips. "Yes. Mother, you're going to be a grandmother. We're pregnant."
My jaw tightened as Kent smirked as though this was the greatest news he'd ever heard and he hadn’t been sucker shocked and wasted the night before.
My face blushed red with rage. The heat that radiated from my cheeks could have lit a match. I had always planned on doing something a little cute to tell my in-laws that we were expecting——presenting them with baby booties and a heartwarming card. Never had I planned on blurting it out of the blue. The fact that Kent had spoiled another happy moment had my insides heating.