by Nella Tyler
“Lauren?” my mother popped her head into my room. She was dressed in a modest, blue dress that brightened up her face. She had pulled back her hair into an elegant topknot and she had even applied a little light makeup. “Were you talking to someone?”
“Just the baby,” I said with a smile. “You look nice.”
“Thank you,” she replied as she walked into my room. “You’re not ready.”
“Oh right, the Christmas Eve service,” I nodded.
I had promised Mom weeks ago that I would attend the service with her. I didn’t really feel like going anywhere in my condition, but she looked so excited that I just couldn’t bring myself to tell her.
“You don’t have to rush,” she told me. “It won’t start for another hour and the church is just down the street. You can take your time.”
“Okay,” I nodded as I got up and moved towards the bathroom. I turned back for my towel just in time to see Mom look over at my shoebox.
“You still haven’t opened them, have you?” she asked.
“No,” I replied. “And I don’t think I’m going to.”
“You’re not even a little curious as to what’s inside them?”
“Not really,” I said, only half lying. “Chase made his decision, and I made mine. I don’t think there’s any point in looking back.”
“What makes you think reading those letters will take you back?”
“Because they’ll make me question the last eight months,” I said. “Or worse, they’ll make me hope for the future, and I have to come to terms with the fact that there is no future for Chase and I anymore.”
“Do you really believe that?” she asked. Her tone spoke volumes.
I hesitated for a moment. “I think I’m sure,” I said. “But only time will tell.”
I went into the bathroom and had a nice, warm shower. I was a little more relaxed these days because the gym was closed for Christmas and New Year’s, which meant I had some much needed time to myself. I was no longer a personal trainer; that particular job was a little unrealistic in my present condition, but Jeffrey was nice enough to keep me on as management staff. When I got back in shape after the baby, I could resume my old job. It was more than I had hoped for.
When I walked back into my room, Mom was still there. She had put away my shoebox and had replaced it with the dress I would be wearing. It was a baby-blue dress in billowy silk that was both attractive and flattering. I maneuvered myself into it with her help, and she zipped me up from behind. I looked at myself in the mirror and was pleasantly surprised by the reflection.
After the first trimester, my body had been surprisingly co-operative. I had gained all my weight in my stomach and maybe a tiny bit on my cheeks. Still, the extra flesh on my face made me look younger. My mother liked to refer to it as being in full bloom. I sat down and ran a brush through my hair. It had got more voluminous during my pregnancy. I brushed it to a glossy sheen and then applied a little lipstick.
“I’m ready,” I said.
My mother looked at me through the mirror and smiled. “I’ve never seen a more beautiful pregnant woman.”
I smiled. “You might be a little biased, Mom.”
“I don’t know about that.”
I shook my head at her maternal pride and got up. “We should get going,” I said.
“Okay,” she nodded. “Are you all right to walk?”
“Of course,” I nodded. “It’s only a short distance.”
Mom had just left the room when I felt a pain shoot straight through me. I bent over, holding my stomach and cringing against the pain. “Oww,” I breathed slowly as I straightened up again. I took a moment, realized I felt okay, and then moved into the living room where Mom was grabbing our coats. She was walking towards me with my coat when another pain climbed up my spine.
“Oh God,” I said and grabbed at the sofa for some balance.
She rushed over towards me. “Lauren?” she asked with concern. “What’s wrong?”
“I think that was a contraction,” I said. “Actually, I’m pretty sure it was.”
“Oh my God,” she said. “We need to get you to the hospital.”
“We’ll need the car for that,” I pointed out.
“I’ll go bring the car around,” she said quickly as she grabbed the car keys from the kitchen table and moved fast for the door.
I gasped instinctively as water splashed down between my legs. “My water just broke,” I said. “This baby is well and truly on its way.”
“Right,” Mom nodded fast. “Come with me; we’ll go to the car together.”
With Mom’s help, I managed to waddle my way down the stairs and towards the car. It took some effort to get inside the car, especially with moisture sticking to the insides of my legs, but we finally managed to do it, and then Mom was driving us to the hospital.
“I think this dress is officially ruined,” I sighed as another contraction started up.
Mom laughed distractedly. “Forget about the dress,” she said. “I’ll buy you a new one. We need to get this baby out safely.”
I was screaming through another contraction when we pulled up to the hospital. Mom ran for help and moments later, she reappeared with a couple of nurses and a wheelchair in tow. They helped me out of the car and into the wheelchair before they rushed me into an elevator and into one of the delivery rooms.
“Who’s your doctor?” a middle-aged, blonde nurse asked me as I was transferred to a bed.
“Doctor Farrow,” I replied. “Is she here?”
“We’ll page her.”
“She’s not in the hospital?” I demanded feeling sweat beads begin to form on my forehead.
“Don’t worry, darling,” Mom said taking my hand and squeezing it gently. “Stay calm and breathe.”
“No,” I said in a panic. “I need my doctor; I need Doctor Farrow.”
“What’s your name?” the same blonde nurse asked me.
“Her name is Lauren,” Mom replied for me.
“Okay, Lauren,” the nurse said kindly. “You have nothing to worry about. Doctor Farrow is on leave today, but we have paged her, and she’s on her way over right now.”
“Really?” I said between deep breaths. “She’s coming now?”
“She’s on her way,” the nurse nodded. “She lives close, too, so she shouldn’t be long. Do you think you can manage for a few more minutes?”
“Okay,” I sighed as another contraction started up. “I need drugs.”
“We’re going to get an epidural started for you,” the nurse nodded. “Hang in there.”
“Okay,” I nodded as I tried to remember to breathe.
The next few hours passed by in a haze of pain and drugs and screaming. I calmed down a little when Doctor Farrow arrived, but my relief was obliterated by pain.
“How did you do this, Mom?” I asked as I held fast to my mother’s hand.
“It’ll all be worth it in a few moments, darling,” she replied. “When you have that little baby in your arms.”
I could barely register what she was saying. There were moments that I even forgot that I had a baby to push out. “I have to start pushing,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Not yet, Lauren,” Doctor Farrow said from between my legs. “You’re not there yet.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re not dilated enough,” she replied.
An hour later, and I had dilated enough to start pushing. I could feel my face go red as I pushed as hard as I could. My mother stayed beside me, encouraging me forward the whole way.
“There we go, Lauren,” Doctor Farrow cheered me on. “He’s crowning, I can see the head now.”
I gritted my teeth and pushed harder, and then almost a minute, later the room erupted in newborn screams that seemed to echo across the room.
“He’s here, Lauren,” Doctor Farrow said with a smile. “Your son has arrived.”
“Lauren!” Mom exclaimed with stars in her eyes.
“He’s a Christmas baby.”
They cleaned him up, swaddled him in a soft, blue blanket, and then handed him to me like a prize. I took him into my arms and looked down at my son’s face.
“Oh my God, Lauren,” my mother breathed from over my shoulder. “He’s perfect.”
And, he was. He was rosy-cheeked, pale-skinned, and dark haired. He was beautiful, and I felt my heart beat a little faster. So this was what it felt like – love at first sight. This was exactly what it felt like. His eyes opened for a tiny second and I managed to catch the bright brown of his irises before they closed again.
“He has Chase’s eyes,” my mother said softly, as though she were speaking to herself.
I saw it too. He didn’t just have Chase’s eyes. He was Chase in miniature. I could see that already. And, I was happy. There was a small inkling of sadness that I registered, but it was nothing compared to the joy. It was right that he should look like Chase; I was glad that he did.
“What are you going to call your son, Lauren?” Mom asked, reaching out and grazing his cheek fondly.
I looked down at him and the name came to my lips instinctively. I hadn’t really thought about it before, but now that it had entered my head I couldn’t let it go.
“What do you think about Braden?” I asked.
“Braden?” she repeated with raised eyebrows.
“I know it’s a little strange—”
“It’s not strange,” she said quickly. “It’s a good, strong name.”
I nodded. “I was thinking of Cole for his second name, the name he'll go by.”
“Why Cole?” Mom asked.
“I’ve just always loved that name,” I said. “It’s simple, it’s straightforward, and it suits him.”
Mom smiled as she looked at him. “You’re right,” she nodded. “It does. Welcome to the world, Braden Cole Powell.”
Chapter Eighteen
Chase
The atmosphere was electric. I could feel the Christmas joy reverberate through the bunker as the boys played their drinking games and stuffed themselves with chicken, ham, and apple. It wasn’t the kind of Christmas I was used to, but there was a discernible magic about it. Everyone joined together for the festivities and there was a bond that sealed itself there in the moment. It was a bond created from loneliness, isolation, and the unbreakable ties of brotherhood.
I watched as the boys screamed out Christmas classics, completely disregarding melody, and in some cases, even lyrics. I couldn’t help but smile, even though my mood was not exactly compatible with celebration at this moment. I was consumed with thoughts of Lauren and what she must be doing. Who would she spend Christmas Eve with? Where would she go? Would she even celebrate? In the space of eight months, she had managed to become an enigma to me and I was scared by how silent she had been through our separation.
That’s what I had decided to call it. I couldn’t bring myself to think about the term break-up. It was too final, too permanent, and too painful. So I had taken to calling it a separation in the hopes that one day, I might be able to stand in front of Lauren and beg for her forgiveness.
My mind didn’t even go to the possibility of her rejecting me. It wasn’t that I was being egotistical or cocksure; I was just being stupidly optimistic because that was the only way I could continue to do my duty.
“Chase, get yourself over here!” Eric shouted from across the room.
He was halfway to being drunk and I could tell from the spark in his blue eyes. When I didn’t respond, he plodded over to me in a semi-straight line and plonked himself down beside me.
“Don’t you ever party?” he asked, leaning in a little too close for comfort.
I leaned away from him and smiled. “I’m not the party type,” I replied.
“I don’t believe that for a fucking second,” he said shaking his head. “Weren’t you a pro football player?"
“For a very short time,” I nodded. “That life is behind me now.”
“Man, you are stupid,” Eric said. “Why’d you choose this life over that one?”
“Call of duty and all that,” I replied. “I just couldn’t ignore it.”
Eric shook his head as though he thought I was mentally challenged. I realized he was a little too inebriated for this conversation, so I just pumped him on the back. “Get back to the party, Eric.”
“Not until you join in.”
I sighed. “Not in the mood, Eric.”
“Come on man,” he said. “Erica over there has a thing for you, did you know that?”
I laughed. “No I didn’t.”
“Well, now you do,” Eric said with finality. “And she happens to be the hottest girl in the military. I think tonight is perfect to make your move.”
“Umm, no thanks,” I said sheepishly.
Eric looked at me carefully and then realization dawned on his face. “Oh,” he said, making it seem like two words instead of one. “I get it now.”
“You get what?”
“You’re gay!” he said it as though it explained everything.
I rolled my eyes at him. “I’m not, actually.”
“I get it now,” he repeated again. “Makes sense, quite frankly. You’re too good looking not to be.”
“For God’s sake, Eric,” I said shaking my head. “I’m not gay, okay? And if I were gay, I’d have no problem admitting it to people.”
He wrinkled his eyebrows at me. “Then what is it? I know you’re not married, so?”
“I’m not married,” I nodded. “But I left behind someone special, a girl that I plan on marrying one day.”
“Oh,” he said nodding. “You’re pining.”
I laughed, half frustrated with his persistence and half amused. “I suppose I am.”
“When are you going to see her next?”
“When we finish this tour,” I replied. “Three years, five months, one week.”
“Whoa,” Eric said, shaking his head. “You’ve got it bad, huh?”
“As bad as it can get,” I nodded. “We were together for nine years.”
“Nine years?” he repeated incredulously. “How old were you when you hooked up with her? Twelve?”
“Actually, thirteen.”
“Geez,” he said. “That’s crazy.”
“Yup.”
“Does that mean you’ve only ever slept with one woman your whole life?”
I shook my head and got to my feet. “I’ve got a call to make, Eric,” I said, patting him on the shoulder as he looked at me in amazement. “Get back to the party and enjoy yourself.”
“Does it?” he shouted after me as I walked away from the raucous noise of the party.
I went into the quiet of my bunker and closed the door to shut out the noise. The moment I did, a muffled silence fell over me, and I breathed a sigh of relief. It was nice to hear myself think again. I had learnt the hard way that distracting myself from thoughts of Lauren never worked. She managed to wheedle her way into the deepest depths of my imagination and she refused to be expelled.
After a while, I realized I didn’t actually want to distract myself from her memory. I wanted to remember her, I wanted to miss her, and I wanted to think about her every chance I got. She had been more than just my lover and my soul mate. She had been my best friend, and I meant that literally.
I opened my laptop and checked the signal. The connection was poor, but I really wanted to speak to my parents, especially since it was Christmas Eve. I turned on Skype and hoped the connection would hold long enough for us to have a conversation. Before long, I was online, and moments later, I received a call from my mother’s Skype account.
I accepted the call and waited till the picture straightened out a little. Mom was sitting in her office room wearing a red sweater and a bright smile.
“Chase!” she said delightedly. “I was scared we wouldn’t be able to talk today.”
The image was grainy, but it was better than nothing. “Merry Christmas, Mom,” I said. �
�I’m so glad I caught you guys. Where’s Dad?”
“He went to the airport to pick up Aunt Cynthia; you’re ahead of us over there, so we won’t be celebrating Christmas Eve till tomorrow evening.” she said. “How are you doing? Are you eating well?”
She always kicked out conversations off with that question. I had come to expect it and I had my answer prepared. “I’m eating like a lion,” I replied. “Need to keep strong.”
“Of course,” she nodded. “And how is the Middle East?”
“The same as it’s always been,” I replied, unwilling to talk about my current location. “I miss home.”
“And home misses you, honey,” she replied. “It’s been hard this Christmas without you and your brother around.”
I felt the pain of her words and a prick of guilt eased its way to the surface. “I know,” I said. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there with you guys. But you’re having people over, right?”
“We are,” she nodded. “Your father’s brothers and their families are coming over, Lou and Mary from next door, and of course, Aunt Cynthia.”
“Well, at least you won’t be alone,” I said, taking a small amount of comfort from that.
“I was adamant that we have company over this Christmas,” she nodded. “I couldn’t bear the thought of an empty house at this time. At least it’ll keep me distracted.”
“That’s the spirit, Mom,” I nodded.
I drummed into a thoughtful silence wondering how I was going to ask my next question without being overly obvious about it. “Things are good over there?” I asked hedging a little.
“Yes, darling,” she replied. “As good as can be expected.”
I nodded. “Have you by any chance seen Lauren lately?”
I couldn’t quite catch the expression on Mom’s face; it was too grainy for me to be sure. “No, dear,” she replied after a moment. “I haven’t seen or spoken to her since her graduation. I was thinking about calling her tomorrow on Christmas Eve to wish her well, but if you don’t think that’s a good idea, then I won’t call.”