‘I’m sure he understands that contraceptive is not 100% foolproof. If he were dead set against having a baby, I’m sure he would have had a vasectomy to make sure it never happened. I’m sure once the shock has worn off, he’ll come round. You’ll see.’
‘No, no, he won’t. He’ll make me have an abortion.’ I could feel myself bordering on hysteria at the thought. I felt Dr Pane’s firm hand on my arm.
‘Listen to me. You need to calm down. You have a baby to think about now. No one can force you to do something against your will. Do you hear me?’
I nodded mutely.
‘I want this baby with all my heart. I will never have an abortion, never,’ I insisted, my tears dissipating as my conviction took hold.
She looked up at me with a soft gaze. ‘And your husband will have to grow up and take responsibility. This is a matter between the two of you, ultimately, Katie. I’m just in charge of your medical care. What a husband and wife decide for their marriage is really not my turf or my prerogative. But your husband can’t blame you for something that’s not your fault. I can explain to him how your medication could have interfered with the pill ...’
‘Could you? Please? He will never believe me,’ I implored without sounding needy. I made it sound like a professional request.
‘Very well.’ She nodded, and having her as ally shed all my troubles for now. Now I could sleep, daring to smile.
Chapter 23
After two days in hospital, Jordan had still not shown up. When I called him on his mobile, it rang for a few seconds then was cut off. When I tried again, it went straight through to voice mail. It annoyed me, insulted me, and most of all, it concerned me. There was no telling if he was even all right. But I refused to call Martha to find out what was afoot. Naturally, she would know every detail by now, no doubt of the same paranoid opinion that it was all staged from the beginning, that her poor boy was conned to give me a baby.
It was my last day in hospital, so he had to resurface at some point, whether he wanted to or not. Dr Pane vowed to speak to him first before he would be allowed to pick me up, but I had no idea if she had contacted Jordan yet. Ethan came in with his usual sunny disposition to say hello and chat.
‘Off home today, I hear,’ he said with a smile. I had become quite fond of him. He was genuine and compassionate – a virtue well received by me.
‘Apparently,’ I said, returning his smile.
‘That’s good, Mummy,’ he said.
His choice of words somehow made my heart jump and flush with warmth.
‘Mummy.’
‘I like the sound of that,’ I said. Unfortunately, I’ll be the only one.
He grinned. ‘It’s a good feeling isn’t it? To be blessed with a child?’
‘I don’t think my husband see’s it like that,’
‘He will eventually. At first, it is the shock, the blame, the discord and all. I know first-hand, I assure you. But then as time goes on there is a kind of peace that comes with the acceptance and after that,’ he said, ‘then comes the love and the excitement for the arrival. You know, along the way he’ll think much on his new status, your hubby. And along the line, he will begin to realise what it really means ... really means to be a dad. Then all this confusion and conflict will mean nothing.’
‘I hope you’re right,’ I replied. ‘I just want him to talk to me. I think that’s what bothers me the most right now – the not talking, the not knowing.’
‘I know,’ he consoled. ‘But just take one day at a time and enjoy your pregnancy. Don’t let the world and personal things overwhelm you. Every day, find something that makes you laugh. The little one will appreciate it.’
‘I will, now there’s two of us to think about,’ I marvelled cheerfully. ‘Good advice!’
‘I’m dead serious too,’ he insisted. ‘Fun is very underrated, you know, especially in this serious world where adults have to be responsible. It is actually just a ruse.’ He winked. ‘You have to have fun, any fun, to survive this horrid world. And the best part is ...’ he leaned in to whisper, ‘... it is free.’
How he managed to make all my troubles disappear simply with his presence, was above me, but I was more than grateful for it. In fact, I could almost physically feel my concerns dissipate whenever he stepped into my immediate space. Ethan excused himself and promised to come say goodbye in an hour if he could. Just as he rounded the doorway, disappearing from sight, another figure came around the other corner.
Amazing how a happy atmosphere can be sucked dry within an instant by a negative energy, I thought, as Martha’s malicious little eyes pierced my very soul and seized every ounce of happiness from me.
‘My God, Katie, you look terrible,’ was her first comment. It was her way of establishing her misguided notion of superiority.
Thanks! Just what I need to hear, you miserable bitch,’ I thought, desperate to just come out and say it to her face. My patience was wearing thin, perhaps thanks to my new hormonal condition, but I refrained once more to preserve some form of faux amity.
‘I wasn’t aware that being in hospital merited a beauty regime, Martha,’ I snapped back, quite proud of my counter, for it did have some impact. Martha’s face contorted under her layers of makeup as she replied somewhat taken aback.
‘Well, I see someone’s irritable today,’ she muttered as she pulled up a chair.
‘Funny, I was in a great mood just a minute ago,’ I retorted. ‘Must be something in the air.’ I hoped she would take it as it was intended, but she ignored me as she always did when my demeanour did not sit well with her failed intimidation.
‘We have to talk, Katie,’ she said with a long exhale. ‘Jordan told me about the pregnancy, and quite frankly, I am shocked at the news. And Jordan is livid.’
‘I appreciate your concern,’ I told her calmly, even though my heart threatened to explode under the rush of my fury, ‘but I really think he is perfectly capable of telling me himself. After all, he is a grown man. I hardly think it is anyone’s business but ours.’
Martha’s witched look spat disdain, but she kept her response cordial.
‘Katie, Jordan is my child; therefore, whatever goes wrong in his life absolutely concerns me. I mean, of course it is my business when my son is being upset,’ she croaked in her best high and mighty tone.
‘When something ... goes wrong in his life?’ I gawked in amazement. ‘Is this wrong? Is being blessed with a child, an heir, a future for one’s bloodline an error?’ I was steadily slipping off that slope of restraint. I exclaimed without reservation for who heard me, ‘Christ, Martha, you have a son! How can you condemn me for having a child when you have committed that same dreadful crime you’re being such a hypocrite about?’
‘Will you please keep your voice down?’ she rasped, looking utterly mortified for not being able to keep up appearances in front of strangers. ‘And watch your language!’
‘Excuse me?’ I sneered. ‘Are you suddenly the Pope of propriety? Unlike what you expect from me, I am an adult, and I can say whatever the fuck I want whenever I feel the goddamn urge!’
She shifted uncomfortably, having never been confronted head-on by me before. Even I could not believe how I reacted, but it was too late now. My disposition had become more and more indifferent, unfazed of what anyone thought, and for some reason, I saw my grandfather smiling mischievously in a flash of memory. That same expression riddled his features when he had gotten back at someone or rebelled against whatever force tried to oppress him. Perhaps he was trying to tell me he was watching by creating the quick vision of him.
By the looks of the medical staff and the other patients, I realised that I was a tad out of line in my outburst, so I toned it down drastically. But I could not still the rage in my heart, nor calm its frantic palpitations at the unfair opinions of my adversary. Never before had I literally wished someone dead with such passion as I did at that moment.
‘Listen, you’re impossible to speak to. No wonder
my poor son asked me to talk some sense into you,’ she said conceitedly. ‘It is clear why he is reluctant to even see you if this is how you react to reason.’
‘Reason? You call this reason? Everything you propose in your veiled remarks, Martha, is illogical and biased,’ I replied. ‘I didn’t get pregnant on purpose. My medication countered my contraception. Stop acting like I used some bloody charade to have a baby.’ I was on a roll now. Like the rush of a meandering mountain stream my bottled up thoughts spilled out of me. ‘And don’t make assumptions about me. You come in here, bemoaning a situation you know absolutely squat about, Martha. This is precisely why you should not meddle in our business.’
‘I have every right to protect my son,’ she snapped.
‘And I have every right to protect my child,’ I retorted so quickly I did not even know where the perfect response came from.
She had nothing. Martha looked self-consciously at the people around us to establish her next course of action according to what it would look like to others. Blinking rapidly as she did when defeated and pissed about it, Martha stood up.
‘Since this pregnancy is an accident, I don’t see why you should keep the baby. Jordan ... and I ... suggest that you have an abortion. It would be best for all of us,’ she said solemnly.
‘I beg your pardon!’ I said pushing myself into a sitting position. ‘An abortion? What gives you the right to come in here and tell me to kill my unborn child?’
‘Keep your voice down, Katie!’ She stood and began to back away as I got out the bed and moved towards her.
‘Keep my voice down! You’re—’
‘Look, just think about it. Having a child will cost you all your time, not to mention the cost of school and childcare ...’ her quivering lips betrayed her ill attempt at fibbing. Raising a child by yourself is no fun, believe me.’
In a split second, the truth had been revealed. She was telling me in no uncertain terms that if I had the baby, Jordan would not be raising it with me. I was shocked to find I didn’t care.
‘I am not getting rid of my baby, Martha,’ I stated categorically. Never before had I had such conviction. ‘And that is final. I shall take it up with my husband, and we, as a married couple, will discuss our future in private.’
Never before had I felt so certain about something; so certain that I was completely unafraid to defend it. I kept wondering if it was a hormonal thing, this new found fortitude I had where I once would have yielded or held my tongue. It was certainly a liberation to explore, yet I was aware that it would threaten my relationship with my husband a great deal. As for my relationship with my mother-in-law, I couldn’t care less.
‘Just remember one thing,’ she said. ‘You’re insisting on something that will make Jordan’s life miserable and tedious. Your role as a wife is to make your husband happy, after all. We all have to compromise and sacrifice sometimes.’
I laughed mockingly at her ludicrous hypocrisy.
‘Oh, my God, Martha,’ I chuckled, ‘as if you can talk about what a wife’s role is. And you may want to follow your own advice on sacrifice too. Sacrifice a little to be a bloody decent grandmother to your son’s baby, why don’t you?’
Martha was obviously livid. Her face exhibited a host of negative expressions all in one at her defeat and more so at her inability to deem my remarks invalid. Deep in her core, she knew everything I said was true. My points were not only justifiable but irrefutable to her morality, had she any left.
‘Your disrespectful manner is deeply offensive. I thought you had more sense than this. It’s as if something’s come over you,’ she recited her well-rehearsed chastisement. As she turned to leave, she scoffed and muttered, ‘It must be the hormones or something.’
***
Jordan showed up an hour after his Martha left. It was the first time I’d seen him in days. I could tell by his expression that Martha had relayed our conversation word for word with more added for a dramatic effect. Dr Pane had explained the circumstances of my pregnancy to him, but the only good it did was to lift the accusation of our baby being pre-planned. Even if he now believed my pregnancy was an accident, he didn’t approve of it.
With the present staff congratulating him kindly, and for the sake of his reputation as a good man, Jordan forced a smile here and there, putting his love for acting to work. He did not discuss anything with me ... yet.
Chapter 24
Tension lay heavily over us for the next day as Jordan tried to keep things civil and non-confrontational, but in truth, it made everything so much more awkward between us. The whole affair felt so odd. Here we were, married for years, best friends, intimate lovers who had seen one another at our worst and still supported each other – suddenly making small talk like two adolescents on a first date.
So many times, I just wanted to ask my husband to talk to me, but my courage would abandon me in the moment. Yet, we both knew that the matter had to be discussed. We both knew it was the reason for our once silly, sexy, happy home life to have disintegrated into a sullen and suspenseful den of emotional darkness.
‘When are you going back to work?’ he asked when we found ourselves in the kitchen at the same time.
‘Tomorrow,’ I answered. ‘I think I have two new cases to start this week off with.’
‘Oh, okay,’ he replied blandly while making a sandwich. ‘You want one?’
‘Sandwich?’ I asked. He nodded. ‘No, thanks. I find that just about everything makes me puke my bits off.’
My attempt at humour wasted, he just turned back to finish stacking his bread with tomato relish and cucumber. Clearly my reference to the pregnancy and its shenanigans peeved him, so I left it at that.
‘I’m going to take a shower,’ I told him as I left the kitchen, but Jordan suddenly decided that it was time to address the white elephant in the room. Maybe my silence on the subject and apparent nonchalance finally vexed him into action.
‘My mother is still upset with the way you spoke to her when she came to visit you,’ his voice thundered from behind me. My heart started up again.
‘Here we go again,’ I thought. ‘Mommy versus the Evil Wife – Round 1.’
Of course she is. What’s new? I ignored him and continued on to the bathroom as if his grievance had no merit with me.
‘Katie!’ he shouted. ‘I’m talking to you!’
‘I know, Jordan. The same sad old repetitive bloody sermon. Let me know when you have something new you wish to address,’ I replied plainly. Even I was surprised at my response, but I was just so sick and tired of it all. My quota of tolerance had been sapped in the past day already, and I merely felt exhausted, not to mention knowing how the argument would turn out. As it always did, he would defend her, and I would be reprimanded like the child he was. At this point, I had simply run out of reasons to care anymore.
‘What?’ he roared, neglecting his sandwich to trail me. ‘I see she was right about your fucking attitude!’
I stopped in my tracks as I entered the bathroom and spun around. ‘Yes, she was. She’s always right, isn’t she? Your loyalties have always been with your mother, and I’m just here for you when you need everything else! Not once, Jordan, have you ever considered that that woman simply cannot stand me and has been driving a wedge between you and me since we got married!’ I yelled at him.
Jordan leaned with his arm against the doorway, filling the whole space of the door with his body. It made me a bit uncomfortable as it felt as if he was trying to box me in for some reason, but I had to maintain my composure and pretend not to notice.
‘Look, I will admit that the two of you have never really gotten along. I’m not an idiot. I know you’re both fighting over me. But you cannot be so hostile toward her,’ he said more mildly.
I switched on the shower and ripped off my shirt as the steam started floating under the ceiling.
‘See?’ I challenged. ‘You just did it again. I’m hostile toward her. Not once would you ever consider t
hat she treats me like shit, and even less would you ever defend me instead of your mother!’
He did not retort immediately, so I took advantage of the moment. Kicking off my shoes next to the toilet, I unzipped my skirt. When it fell to the floor, I approached Jordan in my underwear. Either the bathroom was filling up with hot steam, or I was growing more pissed off by the second. With my finger pointed at him, I shot him another thing to think about.
‘And you know when two women are fighting over you?’ I asked in an accusatory fashion. For a brief second, it looked as if Jordan was sobered by the words – as if he had said something he should not have. ‘Jordan, we’re not supposed to fight over you. Don’t you realise that?’
His eyelids twitched, a shift in demeanour only I could discern. Having been with my husband this long, I could literally notice a change in thought even behind a perfectly still facial expression.
‘Your mother and your wife have two different roles in your life. There are things we do that you should not be doing with her! There are things you do with Martha that I know full well I am not supposed to intrude on.’
‘You’re missing the point,’ he scowled.
I ignored his defensive response and stepped into the shower. ‘Now can I just have a bloody shower without being chastised for five fucking seconds?’
Through the vapour, I checked for his silhouette, but he remained fixed in his place.
‘You’ve changed, Katie. I’m seriously worried about you. This pregnancy is changing you and not for the good.’
‘Oh, hardly,’ I said pushing the shower door open. ‘My attitude is not the result of hormones, Jordan. I’ve just run out of patience with you and your mother always taking control of my choices and my life. Jesus Christ, I’m a grown woman, and I can make my own decisions. It’s time you both learned to show me some goddamn respect.’
Like a stranger in the room, I listened to myself as if from the outside. I realised that I wasn’t able to tone down on years of pent-up disgruntlement finally being let loose. Without thinking, I kept spewing out truths about our long kept pen of resentment.
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