Break Me Down (The Breaking Trilogy, #2)

by M. Mabie

  “You have?” She moved the tool under my gown and the cold metal made me jump. “Isn’t it spectacular?”

  “I always liked helping my brother’s wives when their new babies came.”

  “They’re so precious. Aren’t our bodies incredible?” she asked like she believed they were.

  “God built women for the purpose of growing his kingdom.” That’s what I’d always been told anyway. Then again, I wasn’t sure about anything and the words didn’t sound as true anymore, coming from my lips.

  Apparently, I’d been taught many things that weren’t entirely accurate.

  To my surprise, she replied, “He did, didn’t he? He made us perfect for doing all sorts of things. Deep breath in and out slowly, please.”

  Was she a believer?

  Inhaling and exhaling, I did as she asked. We were quiet for a while as she worked.

  “Your heart and lungs sound good. You’re throat, ears, and eyes are clear. Do you hear and see okay?”

  “Yes.”

  She looked at my shoulders and my arms and legs.

  “Your skin is beautiful. Keep it that way with sunscreen anytime you plan on being outside. Of course your arms and legs, but especially your face, neck, and ears too. We can forget about those sometimes,” she explained as she wrote things down. “Your blood pressure is perfect. Temperature is right where it should be. Your weight is ideal for your height, and everything looks fine so far. You take exceptional care of yourself, Myra. Now I have some questions for you. Do you smoke or drink?”

  She glanced at me and I answered, “No, ma’am.”

  “Good. Do you take any medications? Vitamins? Supplements?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Are your periods regular? Do you have any severe cramping or headaches?” Again, her attention focused on me.

  I’d never spoken to anyone about those things, beyond when my mother had explained it to me when my change happened around age twelve.

  I swallowed and picked at the paper sheet beneath me. “They are consistent, but I do have cramping sometimes.”

  “And what do you take for that?”

  “I usually try to drink more water and if I have trouble sleeping, I sometimes take a pain reliever, but only when I need to.” And I’d prayed, but I didn’t mention that part.

  “Okay, if that’s how you manage, and you’re not too uncomfortable, keep doing that. If you ever have any issues, you can always call the office and we’ll see if we can help. And since I’m familiar with your hometown and the way things are in different cultures, I also want to have a conversation about some options you might not know about or that may not have been offered by the doctor you had before.”

  She set her pen down and crossed her legs to face me completely again.

  “Many women prefer using feminine napkins or pads, whatever you like to call them; they like those best. Some women prefer to use tampons, which when used according to the instructions, can be very convenient, safe, and a good alternative. There are other alternatives, but those are the most popular. Of course, this is all up to you since it’s your body.”

  I didn’t answer. The product I used was fine.

  “This may seem very personal, and like none of my business, but I want you to know—from a doctor—there is nothing wrong with any choice you make about the different products you want to try, now that you might have more options. Not a single one of them changes anything about your body, all of them, when used correctly, are fine. And let's also talk about something else that can help with keeping your cycle regular and, for some it helps with cramps. Are you listening, Myra?”

  My chin was tucked down and I’d stared at the tile until my vision had blurred, uncomfortable. I didn’t feel like talking about any of it.

  I just wanted to leave.

  I wasn’t even sick. Well, not really. However, I didn’t exactly feel well either.

  “I’m listening.”

  “I understand you’re married. Is that true?”

  I answered the only way I could. “I don’t know.”

  “Well, that seems like a thing one should be sure about, but that’s not my business. I only asked it because another option you have is birth control. And that discussion can go a few ways depending on if a couple is trying to prevent pregnancy or not.”

  My ears rang. “What?” Prevent pregnancy. Why would someone...?

  “Contraceptives.”

  My shoulders tensed. I didn’t believe in preventing pregnancy.

  Did I?

  When I was wearing my band, it had never even moved from my right to left hand. The way things were, I wasn’t sure if I’d ever have children and a soreness returned to my chest.

  She continued, “There are different kinds. The pill. There’s a shot. There are different types of implants, and then there are non-prescription methods that can even further safeguard against sexually transmitted disease and pregnancy, if you’re not ready to get pregnant right now.”

  I was ready to get pregnant right now. That was half the reason I’d been so upset.

  He’d made vows to me. I’d made vows to him. And now I didn’t know if they meant anything at all. If they’d all been lies too.

  The Griers had explained why Abe had married me. How he’d only done it to help me and not because he truly wanted a wife. He didn’t want me.

  It was all to get me out of Lancaster. A place they called a cult. In fact, they’d told me a host of things I could hardly believe about how they were almost split up and how they were banished. How things and ideas we’d been taught were falsehoods. How the end wasn’t near. How God didn’t speak to us through our Pastor in the ways I’d believed. How God didn’t care who you loved or married, or even how many times one re-married—which sadly brought me some relief.

  I’d been married twice.

  Taken vows twice.

  Committed to keeping them twice.

  I supposed, if that didn’t prove something wasn’t right about either the Legacy’s wisdom or that men knew best, I wasn’t sure what would. Lately, I was beginning to think men weren’t all that wise. They obviously didn’t have all the answers.

  I’d obeyed all of them my entire life.

  God. My pastor. My father. Jacob. Abraham.

  Yet, there I was alone with no band holder to guide me through these difficult times, like I’d been promised.

  Her warm hand touched my foot. “Myra, are you okay? Is there anything you feel like asking?” I’d tuned her out. When my line of sight finally met her sympathetic green eyes, they made me want to cry.

  “No, thank you.”

  “This is a very private conversation. I’m sworn to never talk about you with anyone.”

  What were swears even worth anymore?

  “I understand, Dr. Norris.”

  “Are you sexually active?”

  Active? I took that to mean if I’d ever had sex, and I shook my head.

  “Okay,” she said. “Why don’t you take some literature home and read it at your own pace. We’ll reschedule the rest of the exam some other time.” Her shoulder length, thin grey hair fell in her face as she checked her watch. “I really should check on the mom who called a while ago, and we’ve looked at a lot today. You seem quite healthy and strong. I don’t see any issue or concern. There’s no rush to make any decisions about what we’ve discussed. Your body, your pace. I believe that.” Her hand patted my foot again and then she brought it back to her lap. “Read the material I give you and then we’ll see each other in a few weeks.”

  I still wasn’t the biggest fan of reading, but I’d been finding more and more articles on my phone that weren’t so bad. Maybe pamphlets could keep my attention better than great big books.

  “I’ll read them.”

  “Good. You can go ahead and get dressed. I’ll have a folder for you at the desk when you come out. It was so nice to meet you. You’re in good hands with the Griers, and I’ll see you in a few weeks.” With tha
t, she was gone.

  I guess it was good to know I was healthy, but I hadn’t worried I wasn’t.

  Wearing denim pants felt strange and uncomfortably tight around my legs, but Dori insisted I try them. If only to see how they felt. They looked nice in the mirror and made me feel more modern like Ashley, but I wasn’t sure I would get used to them right away. After I had them zipped up and my shirt on, I looped my purse around my shoulder and left the cold room with the flickering light bulb.

  Dr. Norris and Dori were talking at the end of the hall. As I approached, I overheard them talking about Ashley and how close she was to the end of her pregnancy.

  “Doctor, Sunny Caraway is on the phone. She says—” the nurse paused and leaned in over the desk to speak. “She said she’s feeling a very large, very strong pain in her bottom.”

  The doctor’s shoulders bounce and she covered her mouth and then replied, “Tell her if she’s worried about not making it all the way to Fairview then I can meet them in Browning. Tell her not to worry, but to head to a hospital.” Then she said to Dori, “She’s a first-time momma. I think she’s actually in labor this time.”

  “Oh, I remember those days.” Dori coughed and wheezed as she laughed. “There you are.” She grinned at me as I approached.

  The doctor handed me a green folder with my name on the front. “Myra, don’t forget these, and I’ll see you both later.”

  “Ready to go, hon?” Dori asked, shifting her purse to her other shoulder. “We’ll pick a pizza up on the way home.”

  I felt drained and ready to go to bed early again. My finger traced the place on my hand where my ring was missing, knowing I’d only toss and turn all night.

  3

  Abe

  I went back to work, and the Griers and Chris left me to myself. It was almost four before I’d spoken to anyone that day. But like at home, my thoughts never quieted. Never gave me a break.

  Also, I was one hundred percent going to the Griers’ that night to see if she’d talk to me. My feelings had festered too long, and I’d never been a man to not do something when something needed done.

  After Jacob’s funeral, I thought I’d been called back to Lancaster by my morality. It was very possible I’d been wrong.

  I’d gone to Lancaster for Myra.

  From the moment I laid eyes on her, she’d burrowed under my skin, threaded herself into every fiber. At the same time, I felt like we’d barely scratched the surface of something bigger than myself. Bigger than her. Bigger than our deep-seated obligations.

  If I would have had the ability to sit back and do nothing when everything inside me told me to act, Myra would still be in Lancaster, and honestly, I’d probably be there too. I never would have left home at sixteen.

  Wild horses couldn’t keep me from trying to fix what I’d done. It was my responsibility to right my wrongdoings.

  To forge steel you must hammer it against an anvil to make it tougher. It wasn’t in me to cower when things were difficult, because I believed I’d be stronger on the other side.

  That’s where I’d gone wrong. I wasn’t letting Myra do the hard work for herself, I’d been trying to do it for her. I’d held her back from gaining the strength she needed. Strength more powerful because she’d earn it herself.

  “How are you doing, big guy?” Chris asked, strutting through the stockyard where I’d hung out most the day. It wasn’t that I’d wanted to be left alone, but more so I hadn’t known what to say. I was sorting it out the only way I knew.

  “Long day,” I replied without answering his real question.

  Until I saw her, talked to her, I wouldn’t know how I was doing. She held every card, and I hoped to hell that this time—if given another chance—I would play mine right.

  Chris offered me a pained smile and shrugged, hanging a set of keys on the hook where they belonged. “You look like shit though.” He scratched under his ballcap. “Like you haven’t slept for a month. Anything I can do?”

  He’d already helped by letting me borrow his car, although I hadn’t used it much before Ted returned my pickup.

  Beyond that, what else could he do? Nothing.

  Besides, even knowing she was okay hadn’t helped me find any lasting peace the night before. Because I didn’t know where I stood with her and it was out of my hands, out of my control. Certainly Chris couldn’t do anything to change that.

  “I’ll figure it out.” I stuffed my gloves into my back pocket.

  He grasped the edge of the tall stack of two-by-twelves and stretched his back. “Maybe it’s a good thing. With Ted and Dori helping, maybe you’re off the hook. It was a great thing you did and all, but maybe this is better.”

  “For who?”

  He glanced my way, brows high as he answered, “For her. You. Everyone.”

  They didn’t know her. They’d only met on Saturday and Myra was not the same woman I’d met at my brother’s funeral. She was changing every day. So quickly. So beautifully becoming herself, with interests and ideas and opinions. They had only a glimpse of her, a snap-shot of where she was now.

  I didn’t care if we’d only known each other just over a month. When you live with someone, that is a lot of time, and I liked to think I had been paying attention.

  God knew I hadn’t been able to keep my eyes off her for weeks. My ears had preened to her sounds. Her tones. Her cues.

  She was missing from my world, and I hated it.

  Out of sight, out of mind—not true.

  Out of sight, only made me go out of my mind. Not seeing her smile or hearing her laugh in four days was unacceptable, and the sooner I went to her, the better my chances were I’d begin to feel like myself again. Like I was on the right path again. Like there was any path at all.

  She still might not want to talk. Or maybe she’d yell, which I doubted but deserved. It wouldn’t matter. Being with her, however brief, would help.

  I’d been hostage to fear and worry for days. Held up on my property by the worst possible ideas terrorizing me.

  I needed my eyes on her. Needed proof she was okay. I had to see it for myself.

  Right or wrong, I knew more about her than they did.

  Right or wrong, I cared about her.

  Right or wrong, I was her husband.

  I wasn’t backing down.

  Rubbing my brow, I shook my head. “Nah. Not better for me.”

  “All right. All right. You know where to find me if you need anything. See you tomorrow.” Chris slapped the pine planks we stood beside before he headed to the lot.

  4

  Myra

  The bed in the spare room was comfortable enough, but no matter how many times I washed the bedding it never lost the ashy smell, and it was hard to get cozy. I sat on it though and tried again to read the trifold pages and booklets from the doctor’s office.

  Everything in them was almost the complete opposite of what I’d been taught. I had so many questions, but my phone had remained off since the night I left, and I hadn’t relied on Google to find my answers. I’d had to think and reason and decide without assistance from the internet... or from Abraham.

  But since the literature was so contradictory, I reached for the cell phone and tried to power it up. The battery was dead, and my charger was at the cabin.

  When I opened the bedroom door the rumpus laugher filling the home met me, and I walked toward the family who’d taken me in.

  “Hey, Myra,” Ashley greeted, noticing me first.

  I waved and paused beside the cream-colored refrigerator before the group of four.

  “Hungry? We’re about to order food.” Ted fanned out a stack of menus on one of the only empty spots on the island they stood around. “You can choose the place.”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” I was terrible at ordering food off a menu. “I’m not picky.”

  “Come on,” Ashley said. “We pick all the time. Just no Catalano’s. Baby does not like it.”

  Chris stepped off toward the sect
ional couch in the attached family room. His arms waved in the air and he narrowly missed the ceiling fan. “There’s no way that’s my baby.”

  Why would he say that?

  I straightened.

  “He’s just joking,” Dori said and put her arm around me. She was rough around the edges, but she was kind and reminded me a lot of home. “He’s just not very damn funny. Do you like Chinese?”

  “I’ve never had it before.”

  Chris’s eyes bugged out as he came back to the island. “You’ve never had crab rangoon?”

  “You’ll like it,” Ted explained. “Even I like it, and I’m a meat and potatoes man. Do you eat noodles and rice and vegetables and meat?”

  Ashely nodded across from me, and she took a big whiff like she could already smell it in the air; all I could smell was the smoke on Dori’s clothes.

  “It’s so good,” Ashley claimed. “I could eat it every day.”

  “Okay,” I easily agreed since it was clear they all we fine with that and stepped forward to look at the list of items to choose from. There were circles in red and black pen around some of the numbers. Those caught my eye first, and I just went for it, not wanting to hold them up. “I’ll take the 11 with fried rice, please.”

  Dori cackled too close to my head. “That’s what I get. A girl after my own heart.”

  They called out numbers after me and gave Ashley their orders. Some were elaborate like Chris’s. He wanted everything separated and was so concerned they wouldn’t send enough sweet and sour sauce he asked for it three times.

  Then the men went into the living room and each reclined in the two biggest chairs, making similar groaning sounds, as Ted turned on the television.

  “Do you have a charger that will work for my phone?” I asked Mrs. Grier. “I left mine at... I don’t have mine.”

  I’d almost said home.

  Again.

  She took a sip out of the large Styrofoam cup she always had with her, studied the phone in my hand, and answered, “I think there’s one beside the couch up there. My phone uses the same as yours.”

  Walking around the sectional, I found it right away, and through the window, I saw Abe pull up their drive. Off guard, I stumbled back and caught myself on the arm of the couch. Chris leaned forward hearing the vehicle too.