My Weakness

by Alison Mello

  Chapter Five

  Chloe

  It’s been three weeks since Joe left me that voicemail. So many times I’ve wanted to text him, but instead I listen to his message over and over to remind myself I’m doing this alone. My parents have been nosy trying to ask what’s going on, but subtly. I’ve blown them off. I just don’t want to deal with telling them that my child’s father rejected him or her.

  Plus Pops would tell Tay Tay, who would tell Dustin, and then they could say something to Joe, and that’s the last thing that I’d want. I do not want Joe guilted into being involved. I had hoped that his voicemail was just his nerves talking, but it clearly wasn’t.

  The past two weeks I’ve finally felt good. I’m able to eat some stuff, but my stomach still hates chicken. I’m starting to get a little pooch, and I love it. Of course if I lie on my back it disappears, but I know it’s there. I even had to buy bigger bras, and that makes me so happy. My breasts were decent before, and now they’re fuller.

  It’s my dad’s birthday today, so I’m going over to my uncle Tom and Aunt Mara’s place for his party. My family finally all knows about the baby, and everyone seems to be excited for me. My grandma is ecstatic about being a great-grandma. I think everyone is just excited to have something to look forward to, especially after my uncle Gary passed.

  After my shower, I slip into my hot pink maxi sundress. It’s hot and humid today, so I put my hair into a twisty bun. I spritz a little sunflower-scented body spray on. My cats follow me into the kitchen, where I grab my purse and keys, and I give each of them a treat.

  They both answer with a meow. “I’ll be home in a little bit.” I look at the calendar as I walk out of the kitchen and pause. I’m almost into the twelfth week of my pregnancy.

  I feel like this baby is a girl. I don’t know what it is, but I just have this feeling. In my head, I’m already designing her wardrobe. Smiling, I place my hand on my little bump, and then I head out to the car.

  As soon as I park down the street from my aunt and uncle’s, I climb out of my car. Uncle Tom and Aunt Mara’s grandson—my cousin Gabe’s youngest boy—comes running down the sidewalk toward me.

  “Chloe!”

  “Heya, Hunter.” He wraps his arms around me. I stroke a hand over his dark blond locks. “Am I the last to arrive?”

  “Yep, let’s go because I’m starving. Uncle Garrett says you’re always late.”

  I can’t deny it because it’s totally true. Hand in hand, we make our way down to the house, and there are people everywhere. I love our large, loud family, and our parties usually end in a jam session. My uncle’s neighbors are cool, though, and usually come join in and party with us.

  Hunter leads me into the backyard, and I run over to my dad. “Happy birthday, Daddy.” He hugs me tight and kisses my temple.

  “How’s my beautiful girl?” He’s been hovering since I passed out. I don’t know why he’s doing it, but my guess is he still feels guilty for how he reacted when he found out I was pregnant.

  “I’m good.” I hold up the gift bag in my hand. “Open your present.”

  He knows whatever I get him is usually something I made myself, and we’re both criers. He pulls out the jewelry box and looks at me. “Did you make this?” I nod.

  When he opens the lid ever so slowly, I don’t miss his swift intake of breath. His fingers go to the platinum, diamond-cut box chain around his neck. Inside the box are two round pendants connected by a loop that says, I’m so special I have two grandpas to love. “Oh, honey. I love it so much.” He hands me the box and undoes his chain. I carefully pull the pendant out and slip it onto his chain.

  I clasp it for him and finger the round discs. My eyes meet his, and I can see his are glistening, which makes mine glisten too.

  “Pops, they’re over here.” I turn to see Carter come toward us, followed by Pops.

  I kiss my brother’s cheek before going to Pops, hugging him tight. He lets me go and goes over to Dad, wrapping his arm around his waist. “Look what our talented daughter made for me.”

  “This is gorgeous, baby girl. I don’t wear a chain like your dad, but I might consider it if you made one of these for me, too. Maybe instead of a chain you could do hemp.”

  I can’t believe he wants me to make him one, too. My pops wears a wedding ring—that’s it. “Yeah, sure. I’ll see what I have at home.”

  I excuse myself and greet my family. Everyone asks how I’m feeling and if I’m going to find out what I’m having, which I think I am. I want to be ready. Stepping into the house, I spot two familiar faces: Tay Tay and her mom, my aunt Renée, are in the living room.

  “Tay Tay!” I run toward her, hugging her tight and then moving toward her mom to hug her. “I’ve missed you.” Aunt Renée kisses both of my cheeks.

  My eyes begin to burn when she puts her hand over my little pooch. “Your uncle would be so thrilled for you.” Her voice cracks a little.

  I place my hand over hers. “Thank you for saying that.” I turn to look at Tay Tay. We haven’t really talked since everyone found out. Joe is her nephew, which puts her in a weird position. “Please don’t be mad at me.”

  She grabs me and pulls me into a hug. “Honey, I could never be mad at you. I’m sorry about Joe. We were all hoping he’d come around.”

  I can’t answer her right away because I’m afraid I may start to cry. “Who can blame him? He’s twenty-four; he should be out sleeping around and enjoying being single. Not strapped to a thirty-one year old. Enough about that. How’re Vi and Diego?”

  “They’re doing great. Vi’s having a little girl, and Dustin’s so excited about it. He can’t wait to be a grandpa. Garrett and Ian both seem excited about you having a baby.”

  “Yeah, Dad was a little upset at first, but after I got sick, he quickly got over it. Check out the pendant he’s wearing. I made it. I can make one similar for Dustin if you think he’d like it.” She squeezes my hand and then goes searching for my dads.

  After everyone’s done eating, we do the birthday cake and then the rest of the presents. The uncles, cousins, and my brother are all setting up to play in the little cul-de-sac. Neighbors start bringing their chairs out, and kids are running around. Next year my child will be here, probably being passed around and loved.

  When everyone’s set up, I move toward the microphone. Pops comes toward me carrying his guitar. “We’ll start with your dad’s favorite song.”

  I give him a smile and turn toward the growing crowd. “Hey y’all, thank you for coming to spend time with us and helping to celebrate my dad’s birthday. Daddy, we love you.” He blows us a kiss from where he sits with my grandma.

  The beginning notes of “One of These Nights” by the Eagles begin to flow through the speakers, and I begin to sing. Singing has always come naturally to me. I’ve performed since I was a little girl. Telling a story through song is a gift that I have treasured.

  As the night progresses, song after song is played. Everyone’s having a good time. Dad’s drunker than a skunk and hugging everyone repeatedly. I go into the house to use the bathroom because my stomach feels achy all of a sudden, and when I wipe there’s bright red blood on the toilet paper. My heart starts to race when I stand up to see blood in the toilet.

  A stabbing pain hits me, and I double over, crying out. Oh God, my baby. I’m losing it, I just know it. I stumble out into the hall, and Aunt Mara comes rushing toward me. “Honey, what is it?”

  “I-I think I’m losing the baby.” I start to sob as I’m hit with another sharp pain and feel a gush rushing down my leg.

  Next thing I know, I’m in a flurry of activity. I’m in my pop’s arms, and they’re loading me into someone’s van. Tears pour down my face, someone strokes my hair, and someone is holding my hand.

  At the hospital, my brother carries me inside, and they rush me right back. My dad answers all of the questions because I can’t stop crying. I feel another warm gush, but this time it feels different. Down in my soul, I
know my baby just came out of me, and I begin to sob hysterically.

  The nurses move my pops and brother out of the room against their will. I hear Tay Tay tell them she’ll stay and take care of me, and she does, holding my hand. When the nurse removes my panties, she turns to the doctor that just stepped into the room. “She just miscarried. The fetus appears to be intact.”

  “Chloe, I’m Dr. Nolan. I’m so sorry for your loss. I need to examine you to make sure your body got rid of everything, okay?”

  All I can do is nod as a strange numbness comes over me.

  ***

  I can hear the hushed voices, but I refuse to open my eyes. I’m not ready to see the looks of pity on their faces. She’s gone, my little girl is gone, and I feel so fucking empty. I feel like a part of my soul is gone. I’d barely gotten used to the idea of being someone’s mom, and now it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters anymore.

  Stacy held me while they did the examination, and I got lucky and didn’t need a D&C. They told me if the bleeding doesn’t stop that I might have to have one, but we’ll just have to wait and see. I gave them permission to take my baby to the lab and see if they could find any abnormalities that may have caused the miscarriage.

  My Tay Tay cried right along with me when they let me look at my baby. She looked perfect, just super tiny.

  After I was discharged, my dad pushed me in the wheelchair, and Pops held my hand. They tried to get me to make small talk, but I didn’t want to talk. I just wanted to go home, shower, then crawl into my bed and fall into oblivion, which brings me to now.

  Ragnar and Lagertha are both snuggled up under the covers, providing me with their emotional support. Yes, they’re only cats, but they’re my babies and can sense that I’m hurting. Ragnar is curled against my chest, and Laggie is curled up against my stomach, like she knows.

  Tears leak from my eyes, and I don’t bother wiping them away. All I keep thinking is I did something wrong. Maybe I ate something I shouldn’t have. What if it was because of the cats?

  I feel the bed compress but keep my eyes closed. My hope is they go away. “Chloe? Do you need anything?” It’s Dad. “Baby girl, talk to me. I know you’re awake.” He sits there saying nothing until finally he sighs. “I’ll be in the living room if you need anything.”

  The click of the door lets me know that I’m alone. Thank God.

  Chapter Six

  Joe

  After stepping inside my apartment, the first thing I do is take a shower. It was a bad fucking night. I made a DUI arrest, and the guy resisted, elbowing me in the face. Once I got the perp to the station, he puked all over me. Even though I had a shower at the station, I can still smell it. I strip out of my clothes on my way to the bathroom and spend a good thirty minutes in scalding hot water, soaping myself multiple times.

  Climbing out, I wrap a towel around my waist and make some coffee. While that’s brewing, I throw on a t-shirt and a pair of cut-off sweats. I reach the living room as a knock sounds at my door. It’s only seven thirty in the morning; I can’t imagine who it could be. Looking through the peephole, I see it’s my dad and Uncle Dustin.

  Pulling open the door, I smile. “Hey guys, what are you doing here?” My smile fades immediately when I see the look on their faces. “What’s wrong?”

  “Can we come in?” I step back, and my dad walks in first, followed by my uncle. “Son, come sit down.”

  I follow them and sit in my recliner. “What’s going on? You’re starting to freak me out.”

  I figure Dad has something to say to me, but instead it’s my uncle. “Your aunt went with her mom to Atlanta to celebrate Chloe’s dad’s birthday. During the party, Chloe started bleeding and then cramping really bad. I hate to be the one to tell you, but she lost the baby.”

  A strange buzzing starts in my ears. She lost the baby; she lost our baby. The baby I was too scared to deal with. Without thinking, I grab my end table, shit flying everywhere, and throw it against my flat screen. My dad and uncle grab me and push me back into the chair.

  Tears begin to run down my face. I don’t even bother trying to hide them. “How is—is she?”

  “She’s not doing too good. Your aunt says she’s not talking to anyone. Chloe consented to have the baby tested to find out if there were any abnormalities, so at least she’ll have some sort of answer.” My uncle’s hand is on my shoulder.

  “What was it?” They look at me with a questioning look. “A girl or a boy?”

  “It was a girl. I’m so sorry, Joe.”

  I bury my face in my hands. My palms are wet from the tears that have begun to fall again. There is such a painful ache in my chest right now. This is my fault; I did this. If I would’ve been involved, that would’ve eased her stress. I wipe my face and look at my dad. “This is my fault. I got scared and told her I didn’t want to be involved.” I suck in a breath. “It was a lie. I wanted that baby—I swear to you I did.”

  My dad lays his hand on my other shoulder. “You were scared, and that’s okay. This is not your fault. This isn’t her fault, either.”

  I push up out of my chair. “I need to go to Atlanta. I need to see her.”

  In my room, I grab my duffle bag and start shoving clothes into it. “Son, what about your job?”

  “I’ll stop by the station and talk to my boss. I haven’t taken any time off or called in sick. I think I’m allowed to take time off for an emergency. Whether Chloe wants me or not, she’s going to need me.” My dad follows me into the bathroom, where I grab my toiletries.

  “Son, why don’t you wait a few days? There’s a good chance that she won’t want to see you right now.” He’s right, and I’m being selfish, but I don’t care.

  “Too bad. That was my child, too.”

  My dad sighs. “Son, I just want you prepared. As far as she knows, you didn’t want the baby.”

  I hang my head because as much as he’s right, I have to go. I just do. Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I walk into the living room where my uncle is cleaning up the mess I made. “Thanks,” I tell him.

  “I texted your aunt and told her you were coming. She’s not sure that’s a good idea.”

  I take a frustrated breath. “No disrespect, but I don’t care if she thinks it’s not a good idea. I need to see Chloe—end of story.” I grab my wallet and phone, shoving them both in my pocket. “Lock up on your way out,” I holler as I head toward the front door.

  “Joe, please reconsider. At least wait until tomorrow. You shouldn’t drive right now.” My dad moves to stand right in front of me. “I know you’re hurting and you want to support Chloe while she deals with this loss, but driving while you’re upset is not safe, and you should know that.”

  “Dad, I promise you I’m fine. Yes, I’m upset, but I’m okay.”

  “Okay, so you’re okay, but you just got off the night shift. Sleep for a couple of hours first, at least.”

  Honestly, I’m fine—I’ll sleep when I check into a hotel, and that’s what I tell them.

  “Fine, but I want periodic phone calls and a call when you get there. Your mother will worry.”

  “Yeah, okay.” I reach for the door, but he stops me with a hand on my arm. “What?”

  “I’m not sure what you’re expecting to have happen when you get there, but whatever it is, I just want you happy.” He pulls me into a back-slapping hug. As much as we’ve fought over the years, I love my dad. He’s always stood behind every decision I’ve made.

  “Thanks. I love you.” I head out the door, jump in my car, and head to Chloe.

  On my way out of town, I stop at the gas station and buy a jumbo cup of crappy coffee; two stale, dry donuts; a pack of gum; and a huge bottle of water. In the car, I call my boss. Chief Jones is probably at the station already. The man has been with the Beaufort Police Department for twenty years, and it was after he came and gave a talk at my high school that I started considering joining the police force.

  His secretary answers, and he’s there so she
puts me right back to him. I tell him about Chloe and the baby and that I need to take some time off to see to her. Of course he’s cool about it. “I’m so sorry, son.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Take as much time as you need. You don’t qualify for FMLA, but you can take a leave of absence,” he says.

  “I don’t think I’ll be gone for more than a week, but I’ll keep you posted.” I take a deep breath. “Thanks for being so understanding.”

  “My wife and I lost a child. She was only eight weeks along, but we still felt it. Just be patient with her. Take care.”

  We hang up, and I toss my phone in the seat. His words replay in my head, and I know I need to heed them. There’s a good chance she won’t want to see me, and I’m prepared for that. My mom has always said I’m stubborn, which means I won’t give up.

  ***

  After checking into my hotel for the night, I take the elevator up and stick the card in the door, waiting for the little beep. Stepping into the room, I drop my bag on the floor and collapse on the bed. I fall asleep immediately.

  My eyes flutter open, and it takes me a second to remember where I am. Then it hits me like a ton of bricks. Chloe…Baby…Miscarriage. The heaviness returns as I grab my phone and look at the time. “Shit.” It’s four in the morning. I slept the entire day away. Flinging myself back on the bed, I stare at the ceiling, my eyes getting used to the dark.

  I end up lying in bed until the sun shines brightly in my room. It’s seven now, and I think I even dozed off for a little bit on and off. I climb out of bed, strip out of my clothes, and take a shower.

  I throw on a pair of tan cargo shorts and a blue t-shirt. After stuffing my wallet and my phone into my pockets, I slip on my tennis shoes and head downstairs to grab some breakfast.

  It’s a buffet, so I grab my plate and pile it high with food. I grab a cup of coffee and carry it over to a single-seat table. Digging in immediately, I didn’t realize just how hungry I was, and even though the food isn’t that great, it’s at least something.