In My Head

by Schiefer, S. L.

  He explodes in mouth with expletives spilling out of his mouth. He thrusts his hips into me as he rides out his orgasm.

  “Ohhhh my god. I swear to god you get better at that every time you do it.” I take one last lick at his head, knowing that he’s super sensitive right now. He laughs and pushes my head away from him.

  I sit up and move across the cab, taking a drink of my water. It’s been awhile since I’ve given head and had to swallow, I normally don’t like the taste of it. I’m not sure how my stomach is going to handle it.

  “You know, I’ve been pretty lucky this pregnancy. I haven’t been nauseous this time around.” I tell Ben, trying to recall any moment that I hadn’t really felt well except in the very beginning.

  I’m edging on four months. I’ve started to show a little bit, sooner than the last two. I absently place my hand on my belly and rub circles. “I can’t wait to find out what we’re having. Can you?”

  Ben looks over at me, he reaches across and places his hand on top of mine. “I love the gender appointments. They were my favorite, both times.”

  “What do you think it’ll be this time?” I have a feeling it’ll be another boy.

  “I don’t know, I don’t care. You know that. I just want a baby that’s healthy.” I nod. Healthy is good.

  I reach for my water again and take a small sip. Ben’s driving can’t ever be trusted to not hit bumps when trying to take a drink of anything. “I think it’s a boy. I have a feeling.”

  “Well, you were right both times. So, I won’t argue with you.” He takes his hand away and places it back on the steering wheel. He signals to get over onto an exit lane, finally exiting the highway. He takes a couple roads and finally pulls into a parking area.

  He smiles at me and hops out of his truck. Coming around to my side of the truck, he opens the door for me and helps me out. Shutting the door behind me, he takes my hand in his and threads our fingers together.

  “Wanna tell me what we’re doing yet?” He just continues to pull me across the street and walks down a road, and finally comes to stop in front of what likes a restaurant. I look up and read the name of it.

  “The Great Lakes Brewery?” I snap my eyes to him. “You bring me to a brewery when I can’t even drink? What kind of shit is that?”

  The guy standing at the podium outside taking names and guest numbers laughs at my outburst. “They’re supposed to have really great food, babe. Just enjoy it. It is our anniversary after all.”

  The color instantly drains from my face and I feel hot all over. What kind of asshole forgets their own anniversary? I do, I guess.

  “Oh my God, babe. I’m so sorry!”

  An achingly tender smile crosses his face. “I know, it’s okay. You’ve had so much other stuff going on. It’s my job to spoil you, this is me spoiling you.”

  I press in close to him and wrap my arms around his neck. “Thank you for bringing me here. Let’s go eat some good food!”

  It doesn’t take long for us to be seated, we perused the menu and ordered a sausage sampler for an appetizer. When it was time to put in our main dish order, I chose pretzel chicken and Ben got fish and chips. We both split the appetizer and finished both of our meals. Not needing a to go box, we threw enough cash down on the table to cover the tab plus some for our waitress.

  Ben said when we left the restaurant that our day wasn’t over yet, that we still had one more stop to make. Hopping back into the truck, he starts it up and heads onto the main road. Then drives straight. Reaching into the backseat he roots around the floor trying to find a specific bag. When he finally latches onto the bag, he throws it into my lap.

  Confused I look at him while I start to open the bag. I pull out a t-shirt that is clearly not my size so I set it on the console. Dragging out the next shirt, it looks to be a little smaller. I open the shirt up and look at the front and it has a picture of one of my favorite Indians players on it.

  Looking back and forth between Ben and my shirt, I can honestly say it takes a few minutes longer to figure out what he’s trying to will me to understand. It isn’t until we pull up to the intersection right in front of Progressive Field that I finally put everything together.

  Ben brought me back to the spot where he proposed for our anniversary. Cue the swooning.

  “God, Ben. You’re seriously the best husband ever!” I squeal and rip the shirt I have on off and over my head. I throw the new shirt on and pull it down over my ever expanding belly. A belly that looks more pregnant than just fat after eating so much food.

  We pay for parking and head into the field, and we’re actually sitting really close to where we were when he proposed. If not the same seats. The game was electric the whole time, the crowd was really into it and we won!

  Later that night, back at home in bed with my husband snoring lightly next to me, I tell myself there is no reason to continue to see Bronson. The next time I run into him I’m telling him we’re done. We have to be done. I cannot continue to do this to myself.

  I’m slowly killing myself.

  I’M BACK TO where I first met Bronson. To where everything all started. This emotional up and down of “will I see him or won’t I see him” is exhausting. I can’t continue to “see” someone, I really don’t even see. My plan today, is to keep distance between us, as I try to tell him I can’t be with him anymore.

  It’s just not healthy for me.

  I’m sitting at “our spot” in one of the chairs, staring into the clearing. Hoping to will him into existence. God, I wish I would have taken him up on his offer to take his phone number. It was just too risky. No one could find out about us.

  I hear footsteps crunching in leaves coming closer. Sitting up straighter, I listen intently, trying to figure out which way the noise is coming from. And hoping like crazy that it’s Bronson.

  When the person finally breaks free of the trees, I’m relieving and freaked out at the same time. It’s Bronson, but he looks like a mess. He has a black eye and bruising on his neck and face. Forgetting my plan, I jump up and rush to him.

  “What the hell happened, Bronson?” I reach out and gingerly touch his face. Making sure he’s okay.

  “Would you believe me if I told you I got in a fight with the door?”

  I raise my eyebrows and just wait for him to explain. He knows he won’t get away with telling me the same story every person who gets in a fight tells other people so they won’t get in trouble.

  Shaking his head, he walks past me and towards the chairs. Limping his way over to them. Whoever he got in a fight with really did a number on him.

  “Bronson, you have to tell me what happened.”

  Grabbing the arm rests to one of the chairs, he slowly lowers himself into the chair. “No, Lyla. There are some things you really don’t need to know.”

  The harshness in his voice, that is never there, makes me take a step back. He’s never talked to me like that. Never treated me anyway that wasn’t okay at all in anytime that I’ve been with him.

  This isn’t the Bronson I know. Not that I even really know him.

  “I don’t know what happened to you, but if you’re going to act like this the entire time I’m here with you then you can just fuck off, my friend.” I stand up and start to leave, but he darts his hand out and grabs my arm in a bruising grip.

  “There are things you don’t know about me. Things I can’t tell you. If I were to tell you it would put you in danger, I can’t let you get hurt.” There is a coldness in his eyes, making them look the darkest I’ve ever seen them, and it’s really scaring me. His whole face has a solemn look, like he’s come to terms with whatever it is that is hurting him.

  But I’m not standing for it.

  “This is what I’m talking about, if you won’t tell me what’s going on then I’m leaving. I don’t need this. You’re not who I thought you were, Bronson. I’m sorry.” He won’t let go of my arm though, he pulls me closer to him every time I try to walk away.


  “You seriously have to let me go.” The dead calmness in my voice has him pulling back to look into my eyes. “I’m serious. I won’t let you do this to me, if you won’t let me help you then I’m not forcing it on you. And I’m certainly not sticking around to watch whatever downward spiral you’re going to let yourself have.”

  He says something so low that I don’t hear what it is. “Huh?”

  Looking up he yanks on my arm again, and this time I fall into his lap. “Maybe what I need is for someone to show me that they care enough to force love and help on me. What I need is to know someone cares enough to risk what would happen to save me. Even knowing I can’t be saved. I’m not as strong as you are. I’m not the person you’ve built me up to be.”

  I take his face in my hands and turn his head up so I can look him in the eyes. “You’re only as strong as you allow yourself to be, if you say you aren’t strong then you’re giving yourself a crutch. A crutch that no one can take away but yourself. You’re placing limitations on yourself. You’re bringing yourself down, no one else, just you. Stop saying you’re weak, stop saying you’re not the man I think you are, just stop. I know you are. You are every bit the person I think you are. You just need to see yourself as such.”

  I lean closer and place a closed mouthed kiss to his lips, lingering for just a minute before pulling away. “But I can’t help you see yourself like that. I’ve done nothing to make you feel that way around me. You need to break down all your self-built chains, prove to yourself that you are strong. Only you can do that.”

  He drops his hands from holding on to me. I push myself up off of his lap. “I wish I could help you, but you need to help you.” I turn and walk away from him. Leaving half of my heart in that clearing.

  IT’S BEEN A LONG time since we’ve actually had his parents and my parents over for dinner. With it being close to Thanksgiving, we decided to invite everyone over a week before, and just call it our Thanksgiving. My mom and mother-in-law have been at my house since early this morning. The guys came over a little later. They were at my parent’s, looking at new guns that my dad just bought.

  That man and his toys.

  My mom made the turkey using her recipe and Martha and I have been working on everything that my mother tasked us with. I’m not that great of cook, not like my mom, so I’m happy to take what she doles out for me to do.

  Ben has popped in every once in a while to check in on us, to see if we need any help. But we always shoo him back out. He is in charge of the kids today.

  “So, Mom.” I start, waiting for her to acknowledge that I’ve spoken before moving on. When she finally turns her attention to me, I keep going. “I had Robert over for dinner last month. I told you that right?”

  She nods her head. “Yeah, you told me that.”

  Martha, the poor soul, looks at both of us confused. “Who is Robert?”

  “I’m not sure if Ben has filled you in or not, but I was adopted. Robert is my biological father. We had him over so he could meet the kids and I could spend a little time with him on my turf. I really don’t want to go back to his neighborhood, or sit in his house. Not that I’m judging . . . but still.” I shudder at the thought of ever having to sit on that nasty couch again.

  Martha’s eyes widen almost comically, she stutters a couple times but finally seems to get her thoughts in order before continuing. “Ben didn’t tell me, he probably thought it was your story to tell. When did you find out?”

  “Mom told me a couple months ago.” I set the last casserole down on the table, letting it cool before I start lugging everything over to the dining room. “I didn’t take it well at first. Given everything that’s happened, I was allowed my reaction. But I’m completely fine with it now.”

  Martha comes over to me and gives me a tight hug. “You’re such a strong person, I’m glad Ben has you.” And then she whispers into my ear so only I can hear, “I’m sorry for what I said to you the last time we were here. It was uncalled for.”

  “No, it’s more like I’m lucky to have Ben. He keeps me together when all I want to do is fall apart at the seams.” I mouth a silent “thank you” to her for her words. My mom doesn’t need to know about what Martha said to me, that’ll just start a fight.

  “All right, enough of this sappy stuff. Let’s get all the food into the dining room. That way the boys don’t complain that we’re cutting into all of their football time,” Mom announces. She yells for my dad to come pull the turkey out of the oven and start cutting it. Ben brings both kids into the dining room, throwing Kay into the high chair my mom brought from her house and Kody into his high chair too. That way we have enough room for everyone, and the mess is easier to clean up.

  Thanksgiving has always been one of my favorite times of year. My parents and I have this tradition, that we should do all year, but we go through and name the one thing we’re most thankful for that year and why.

  When everyone is seated at the table my dad finally brings in the turkey and places it in the center of all of the food. Everyone starts passing plates around, loading up on all of the food spread out in front of us.

  I speak up first, wanting to get this year’s thankful sappiness out of the way fast. “Who wants to go first?” Ben’s parents have been fully warned about this so they were prepared when called on.

  Kay is the first to raise her hand, yelling “me me me” at all of us. We all laugh, and my dad tells her to go ahead and tell us why she’s thankful. “Mommy seems much happier right now. I don’t like it when she’s sad. But, a happy Mommy and a happy Daddy makes my day better.”

  I pick up my fork and start pushing around my food. Not wanting to see the looks of pity or worry on anyone’s face at this table. I couldn’t handle it right now. That would for sure make me break. So, doing what I do best I deflect the attention onto someone else.

  “Ben, you want to go next?” I pick up a forkful of green bean casserole, savoring the flavors in my mouth before I swallow them.

  Glancing over at Ben, I check to see if he’s going to talk. But he stands up from the table and runs into the kitchen to grab something then comes back out. He’s holding his hand behind his back, and smirking at me. My eyebrows draw down, looking around at everyone else they all have similar looks on their faces. The fuck?

  “Everyone knows that I love my wife. With everything that I am. I’m so thankful, every day, that she helps me when I’m working by raising our children, taking care of our house, and doing anything else that needs done. Without much complaint.” I heave a protest at that particular jab from my husband. “But we all know that I would do anything to make her happy. And if that includes breaking the bank to get her something that she wants, then so be it.”

  He walks over to my chair, and pulls his hand out from behind his back. Setting down a set of keys in front of me. I look at the key fob and see the Chevy emblem on it and I instantly jump out of my chair and onto my husband. I latch my arms around his neck and let out a laugh.

  “I can’t you believe you went behind my back and did this and how the hell did you get it here without me realizing it was here?” By now everyone joined in on my laughter and evident happiness.

  Grabbing a hold of the keys, I stalk out of the dining room and out the front of my house, with everyone else hot on my heels. I want to see my new car. Coming to a stop at the end of my sidewalk I see a shiny black Tahoe parked right where my old car would be. This thing looks brand new.

  I hit the unlock button and open the front door. Looking into the backseat, both carseats have already been moved into here. Everything from the Escape is already in here. “God, Ben. You don’t miss a beat. You’ve been a busy bee this morning, huh?”

  “My dad brought this over for me this morning, I couldn’t find what I wanted so I had him go test drive this one because it was close to his house. I did all the paperwork online, and they mailed contracts for me to sign and I faxed them back. And voila. New car for my wife!”

  I’m
bouncing I’m so excited. “All right, I’ll come back out and play with this later. Let’s go back inside to eat.” Ben turns and I follow him back in, not before locking the Tahoe back up though. Even though we live in a nice neighborhood, I’m not taking the risk right now.

  “So, who wants to go next?” Everyone starts chuckling and the rest of us take our turns with telling what we’re thankful for. When it’s my turn it takes me a few minutes before I’m able to voice what I’m thankful for. “Ben. You quietly barged into my life. You’ve been nothing short of perfect the entire time I’ve known you. You will, clearly, do anything for me and the kids. Sacrificing time at home with us to renovate the store just so you know you can provide for us down the road.”

  I reach my hand out to him and grab his, needing to feel him. “I love you, and I always will. You’ll always be my number one, no matter what. You’re the best part of me.”

  Everyone let’s out a couple “awws” then we set on with the small talk between family. It’s a wonder anyone has anything to talk about with us giving so much during our thankful speeches.

  This Thanksgiving will always hold a special place in my heart.

  I clean up the food after everyone leaves, I refused the help. And I always end up with all the leftovers anyways so I thought it was pointless for anyone to help put stuff away when I’ll separate it down into different containers myself. Getting everything set for the week.

  I hear Ben in the living room with the kids. He’s reading them the Elf on the Shelf book since this was our Thanksgiving, that damn elf will be in our house longer. Meaning I’ll need to come up with more ideas on moving the stupid thing.

  BEN’S PARENTS CAME over to watch the kids for us while we head to the doctor for our ultrasound appointment. Ben has been in a flurry of excitement the past week, he’s wanted to put a bet on what we think it is. He did this the other two times as well.