by Kira Blakely
“But once you get there, things will start to get better, wonderful even.”
“Well, I feel wonderful now.” I look down at my belly, running my hand over it.
It still looks the same, of course. It’s hard to believe I have a child, a whole new person growing inside me. But I can feel it. I can feel the wonder, the joy.
As I lift my face, I see my mother staring at my belly and so I stand beside her. Lifting my shirt, I grab her hand and place it against my skin, leaving it there.
Her soft palm presses against me and as she moves her hand to caress my belly, staring at it, the corners of her lips turning to show another sad smile.
“You say that now but wait until your clothes don’t fit,” she says, moving her hand away. “And trust me, they won’t fit.”
“I know, Mom. You are trying to scare me, aren’t you?” I pull my shirt down, chuckling. “I’m going shopping for maternity clothes this afternoon.”
* * *
Hmm. This maternity blouse looks nice.
I take the periwinkle blouse with the short, ruffled sleeves out of the rack, look at it for a second and then throw it into my cart.
Shopping for maternity clothes is easier than shopping for every other type of clothes probably because there are relatively limited choices – the maternity section of the department store is about just half the size of the bathroom – and because you don’t have to worry about size. Or style. When you’re pregnant, all you care about is being comfort- able. Everything else can go to hell.
As I push my cart, my eyes comb the racks, my hand picking blouses and dresses off them and automatically tossing them into my cart, which is why I don’t notice that someone is in front of me until I’ve almost bumped into her.
“Whoa,” she says, her hand on my cart.
I quickly stop it as I turn my head, though I regret doing so when I realize that the woman in front of me is Marissa.
She’s like one of those ads that pop up to ruin the mood whenever I’m enjoying myself.
“Hey,” I greet, tucking some strands of hair behind my ear. “What are you doing here, Marissa?”
Seriously, what is she doing here in the maternity section? Don’t tell me she’s pregnant, too, though that might help convince her to give up on Dash.
“Oh, I was just shopping for some new shoes.” She lifts the pair of red stilettos in her hand. “Aren’t they awesome?”
“Totally,” I answer without much ado as I look at them.
Let me guess. Red is her favorite color.
That reminds me of the red Toyota she was driving away in once, just across Dash’s apartment. What was she doing there?
I narrow my eyes. “Did you…?”
“Oh, but you can’t wear heels anymore, can you?” she interrupts, slinging the pair over her shoulder. “Dash said you’re pregnant.”
Dash did? When did he see Marissa again? Why were they talking about me… and our baby?
I touch my belly. “Yeah, I am.”
Why else would I be in the maternity section?
“No more heels for you.” She shakes her head. “And no coffee, no wine, no cigarettes, no roller coasters.”
“I know.” I pretend to fix the items in my cart.
She places her hand on her hip and leans forward. “And worst of all, no sex. I mean, I have this cousin who like had sex when she was pregnant and she just ended up bleeding all over and losing her baby.”
I cringe at the image.
“Oh, and you won’t get any after, either,” Marissa goes on. “I mean not with the baby crying all the time and all the stinky diapers you have to change. My cousin said she was changing diapers once and everything just exploded in her face. Some even went inside her mouth.”
I put a hand over my mouth, my stomach suddenly feeling queasy. “Marissa…”
“Plus, you’ll be fat after the pregnancy and your vagina will be so stretched after that baby comes out of you…”
She puts her hands up, joining her fingers at the tips and then stretching her hands apart to show something expanding.
“…that sex will never be the same again. Or so my cousin told me.”
I put my hand away, gripping the handle of my cart as the nausea passes. “Wow. Your cousin went through a lot.”
“Oh, I was talking about different cousins.”
This girl is amazing.
“Poor Dash is going to be bored.” Marissa crosses her arms over her chest. “He’ll probably look for amusement and satisfaction somewhere else.”
My eyebrows furrow. Is she threatening me?
“But don’t worry.” Marissa reaches out to touch my arm. “I’ll be here for you and for Dash.”
She is threatening me.
I shrug her hand off. “Oh, you’re so sweet. But I have to go now.”
I try to push my cart past her but she grabs my arm, her grip bruising me as she whispers in my ear.
“I’ll take really good care of him.”
I stop, feeling a heaviness in my chest, which disappears as I hear Dash’s voice behind me.
“Marissa!”
17
Dash
Taking long strides, I march towards Janine and Marissa, pulling Janine into my arms.
“Are you alright?”
Janine nods, her head bowed.
I step forward, glaring at Marissa. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Nothing,” she says, rubbing her hand as she steps back. “I was just congratulating Janine on her pregnancy.”
I take another step forward, cocking my head to one side. “I saw you. I saw your faces. I’m not stupid, Marissa. You were threatening her.”
Marissa places her hand on her chest. “Me? Threatening her?” She laughs. “Why would I do such a thing, Dash?”
“Exactly.” I cross my arms over my chest. “Why were you grabbing her? Why do you always show up where we are?”
“It’s just a coincidence.” She shrugs. “Maybe it’s fate, Dash.”
“You know I don’t believe in that stuff.” I frown, placing my hands on her arms. “They said you were better now.”
Her eyebrows furrow. “What?”
“I know you came to HQ, demanding to see me. They told me they had to tranq you.”
“I…” She looks at her feet as she clenches her hands at her sides. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You had a breakdown, Marissa,” I remind her, remembering what I was told. “An ambulance had to be called.”
“I was just a little upset.” She shrugs off my hands, stepping back.
“You had to be referred to a specialist.” She looks at me with wide eyes.
“But you got better. That was what I heard. Maybe they were wrong, though.”
Marissa glares at me, stepping forward and poking my chest with a finger. “I’m completely over you.”
“Are you sure?” I lift my eyebrows.
“I’m married!” She puts her hand up to show me her ring.
“Your husband always seems to be out of the picture.” I place my hands behind me as I look around. “Where is he?”
“At work!”
“Does he know what you’ve been doing?” I ask her.
“I haven’t been doing anything.” She crosses and uncrosses her hands at her waist. “I’m really over you. I’m pregnant, too.”
“Liar,” Janine says from behind me.
I glance at her, lifting a hand to say I’ve got this.
Marissa looks at her, pointing a finger. “That baby should have been mine.”
She approaches Janine but I stretch a hand to prevent her from coming closer. “That’s enough, Marissa.”
She slaps my arm away, fists clenched at her sides. “That baby could have just as easily been mine.”
Still simmering, she throws away the pair of shoes in her hand, turns on her heel and storms off.
I exhale before turning to Janine, placing my arm around her and rubbing he
r shoulder.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” I ask her.
“Yup.” She nods. “You never told me Marissa was sick.” “I didn’t want to believe it, either.” I pull her closer to me.
“I felt guilty. But not anymore.”
“It’s not your fault,” Janine tells me, shaking her head.
I squeeze her shoulder. “Let’s not talk about Marissa anymore.” I look at the pile of clothes in her cart. “Well, well. Someone went shopping.”
* * *
“Well, that’s the last of them!” I rub my hands together after setting the last two paper bags down on the living room floor. There were initially only four paper bags but, after lunch, Janine found a store which specialized in maternity essentials, bringing the staggering total of paper bags to twelve.
“Thanks,” Janine pants, taking off her shoes and rubbing her own feet. “I’m sorry I got carried away.”
“It’s fine.” I place my hands on my hips. “It’s not like you didn’t need these.”
“I am so tired.” She lies down on the couch, stretching out on it, and crossing her legs. “Can you give me that other pillow, please?”
I fetch the large, round pillow on the armchair, which she places under her head.
“And can you lower the temperature?” She fans her face with her hands. “It’s so hot in here.”
I don’t agree with her, already feeling the chill from the air conditioner, but I comply anyway, setting the temperature to 68 degrees from 71.
“Anything else?” I ask.
She wiggles her toes and grins, then chuckles and shakes her head.
“Just kidding. I’m fine. I just need to rest.” “Sure.”
I head to the kitchen to get a bottle of water.
“By the way,” Janine says, “I’ve been thinking about your mother’s offer.”
“You have?” I open the fridge and grab the bottle. “Yeah.”
“And?” I open the bottle and gulp some of the water down.
“I don’t think it’s a bad idea,” she says.
I go back to the living room, sitting on the couch and looking at her. “You’re okay with it?”
“Not entirely.” Janine places an arm over her head. “I still don’t like the idea of your mother calling all the shots. I know she means well and all but this is my life and this is my child.”
My eyebrows crease. “But you want to move into the mansion?”
“Because I know she’s lonely.” Janine holds my hand. “And because I don’t want to be here alone, not just because I’m scared that something might happen but because I’ll get bored. At least, at the mansion, I’ll have someone to talk to.”
“That’s true.”
“And you said you have a garden so I’ll be able to walk around, get my exercise.”
“And there’s a pool, too, if you want to cool off,” I say, rubbing her hand. “Under supervision, of course.”
She entwines her fingers with mine. “And isn’t the mansion more secure?”
I nod. “My father’s best technicians designed the security system for it.”
“Then that’s good, right?”
I clasp her hand in mine. “You’re not scared of Marissa, are you?”
“No.” She lets out a deep breath. “Fine. I am, a little. But it’s not just Marissa. I want our baby to be as safe as possible from anyone and anything.”
“I understand.” I squeeze her hand. “Mom will be thrilled.”
She looks at the ceiling. “I can imagine that.” I chuckle.
“We won’t be staying there permanently, though,” she adds, raising a finger to make her point. “I want a house of our own. A house, not an apartment.”
I give her a salute. “Yes, ma’am. I think I can manage that.”
Janine looks at me, grinning. “Good.”
For a moment, I just stare at her, captivated, and then I take her hand, kissing it. “Have I told you that pregnancy suits you?”
“Oh, shut up.”
“It does,” I tell her, placing her hand down on my lap. “Your face is glowing. Your eyes are sparkling.”
She gives me a confused look. “I think you need to have your eyes checked.”
I chuckle. “It’s true, though. You look good.”
She sighs. “Well, as my Mom reminded me, that won’t last.”
“For the first time,” I reply, smiling at my wife, “I think I disagree with her.”
18
Dash
“Everything seems good.” My VP, Alex Harper, places a folder of documents on my desk. “We made a lot of profits last year thanks to the new advertising campaign. We made a few successful acquisitions, new products sold well, and the research for the newer products is going well. Everything’s on track.”
He sits on the chair in front of my desk.
“That’s good.” I open the folder and quickly scan the documents, most filled with numbers. “I think we should be able to come up with prototypes for the personal defense gadgets in the second quarter of this year and hopefully, mass produce them before the year ends. We should be able to launch our weapons branch this year too.”
“Yeah.” Alex nods. “Like I said, everything’s going according to plan.”
I close the folder and look at him, smiling. “Thanks, Alex.”
“Thank you,” Alex tells me before standing up, hands in his pockets. “You are a blessing to this company.”
I shake my head, scratching my chin. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
“You’re so good at this.” He takes a deep breath. “It makes me wonder why you refused to take over the company in the first place.”
I shrug, sitting back in my large, leather chair. “Maybe I just wasn’t ready.”
He nods. “Anyway, all in the past.” He gives me a salute. “Keep the good work up, boss.”
He walks out of the office and as soon as he does, my secretary, Leslie, comes in. “What is it?” I ask her.
“Um, you have a meeting with the Weapons Training Division of the Armed Forces.” She points to her watch. “Like two minutes ago.”
I glance at my watch. “Oh, shit.”
I got so carried away by my conversation with Alex that I forgot about that meeting.
I grab my coat. “Thanks, Leslie. I’ll be right there.”
I button my coat and hurry down the corridor towards the elevator, stepping inside and taking a deep breath as the doors close.
This meeting is very important and I can only hope that in spite of my lapse, everything will go smoothly.
* * *
“I’m sorry to interrupt you, Mr. Siegel,” Leslie says with an apologetic look on her face, barging into the conference room just minutes into the meeting. “But this is urgent.”
I sigh as I rub my forehead, knowing that I still have plenty of things to discuss with the men in the room.
“What is it?”
“It’s your wife, sir,” Leslie says. “She called from the hospital.”
Fuck. I slowly rise from my chair, feeling all the color drain from my face.
“She’s having the baby.”
19
Janine
“I don’t think I can do this,” I tell Dash between pants, resting my head on the pillow as tears trickle down my cheek.
“Yes, you can.” He wipes my tears with a piece of tissue. “You’re the most amazing woman I know.”
I don’t answer, shaking my head.
I’ve only been pushing for five minutes but it feels like an eternity. My body is already stretched beyond its limit for pain and exhaustion, worn down by these past seven hours of labor.
Rolling waves of a visceral internal pain—like cramps driving a monster truck—crush me to a pulp every thirty seconds. No. It feels like that monster truck is in my hips, ripping and raging.
I throw my head back and roar, forgetting the rest of the world. I feel as self-conscious as a cave woman right now. “Ahhh, I don’t know
how to do this!”
“Just relax, Janine,” the nurse on the other side of the bed says, touching my arm. “Breathe.”
I force a deep breath into my lungs. “Now push!”
I grip the bedrail as I push with all my might.
Come on. Come on!
I crash down on the pillow, out of breath once more. “Good job, Janine,” Dr. Liu praises, peeking between my legs. “Breathe. Rest. You’re going to push again in just a few seconds.”
More? I thought that last push was going to be it for sure.
“How much longer?” I beg, panting.
“You just have to keep pushing, Janine,” Dr. Liu says. Easier said than done.
I look around the room, wishing there was something I could grab and hold as hard as I could during the pushing.
“Just hold on to me, Janine,” Dash offers.
“Let’s go, Janine,” Dr. Liu says.
I lift myself off the pillow and take another deep breath, gripping Dash’s hand as I push.
“You’re doing great, Janine,” Dash tells me.
The nurse rubs my back. “Almost there. Almost there.”
I let out a sob of frustration and fall back, running out of breath and energy. I don’t have any more left.
“I don’t know how much more I can take,” I whimper. “Shh.” Dash strokes my hair. “You can do this, Janine.” I shake my head, biting my lower lip.
“Think happy thoughts,” Dr. Liu suggests.
Happy thoughts? My mind can’t think of anything at all. “Think of when we first met,” Dash suggests. “You know, when we reached for that same salted caramel cupcake.” “Red velvet,” I correct, managing a grin.
“Husbands,” the nurse mutters. “They can never remember the important details.”
I chuckle. “Think of your sweet baby,” Dr. Liu says. “You’re going to meet him so soon.”
At the words, my thoughts drift to the nursery in the mansion, long prepared to welcome little Brandon Oliver. The moon, sun, stars and planets all paint the walls, ceiling, and windows, creating a dreamy, ethereal setting for our newcomer. A thick rug with blue and red rockets stretches across the floor. I think of the rocking chair in the corner. I think of my baby in my arms, in my mother’s arms. In Dash’s arms.