by Elicia Hyder
Marcus stood when they entered. Elena went to hug them, and Randall extended his hand to Marcus. “Son,” he said by way of a greeting.
“How is she?” Carol asked.
Marcus looked at Elena to see if she would answer or if he should.
She spoke first. “She’s in the recovery room. They came out and told us that the surgery went well, but they had to put in two titanium plates and twelve screws. Both of the bones in her forearm were completely broken.”
Her mother groaned.
“Her shoulder was dislocated also, but they were able to reset it without surgery,” Elena added.
“And nothing else was broken?” her father asked.
Marcus let out a deep breath and shook his head. “No. Thank God. They said she's really banged up though.”
Elena shuddered. “It took them about forty-five minutes to get her out of the car.”
Randall blew out a long puff of air, and Marcus clapped him on the back.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Journey’s dad told him.
Marcus was surprised. “Of course.” He gestured down at his gym clothes and laughed. “I was on my way to work out.”
Carol smiled and hugged him. “You sweet boy.”
Just then, two nurses rolled Journey’s bed into the room. His chest tightened when he saw her. Her right arm was hidden by blood-stained wraps and splints. The right side of her face looked slightly burned, her eye was black, and a gash on her forehead was butterflied shut. The rest of her was covered by a sheet. Marcus stayed out of the way while the nurses got her settled, and when they finished, he was at her side.
Her eyes were barely open, but she smiled when he came into her view. He took hold of her good hand and leaned down close. “Hey,” he said. “How do you feel?”
“Like I’ve been hit by a car,” she whispered.
“Your mom and dad just got here,” he told her.
“Hi honey,” Carol said over Marcus’s shoulder. He ushered her parents forward realizing he was probably being rude. Her mother sat down on the edge of her bed, and Randall leaned over and kissed her on the uninjured side of her forehead.
The nurse laid what looked like a game show buzzer on Journey’s chest. Marcus knew it was a pain medicine pump. “Journey,” the nurse said. “Don’t forget when the light is green you can push the button for more morphine.”
The light was green.
Carol picked up the pump. “Here, let me help you…” she began.
Journey pushed the button back down. “Mom,” she choked out. “I need a minute alone with Marcus please.”
Carol looked surprised but nodded. “Of course, honey,” she said, stepping away.
Elena touched her mom on the shoulder. “Let’s give them some privacy.”
The three of them backed toward the door, and Journey weakly reached toward her boyfriend. “I need to talk to you,” she said.
He curiously stepped toward her and took her hand. He made a skeptical face. “If you’re breaking up with me, you’ve got terrible timing.”
He could tell she wanted to laugh, but it hurt too much.
He gestured toward the morphine pump. “You know that little button will help, right? You’re finally able to legally get high and not be in trouble for it.”
She nodded. “Yeah, but that’s what I need to talk to you about.”
He was confused, but he kept quiet.
She gently squeezed his hand. She took a labored breath and struggled to open her eyes wider. “I’m a little pregnant,” she finally said.
“You’re what?” he asked, certain he had misheard her.
“They did a pregnancy test and it came back positive,” she explained.
Marcus suddenly felt dizzy, so he sank down beside her on the bed. “Ummmm… OK. Wow.” He rubbed his face, and she tugged on his hand.
“Are you freaking out?”
He laughed. “Trying not to.” He took a few deep breaths and tried to bring his priorities back into focus. She was the woman that he loved. She was hurting. And he was certain that she was probably a lot more freaked out than he was. He decided to try and lighten the mood. “Was this the surprise you had planned for me?”
Again she tried to laugh. “No. I had no idea. I got tickets to the Patriots-Titans game for us on Sunday. Surprise.”
He pushed her hair back gently. “I don’t think we are going to make the game.”
She smiled.
He shifted in his seat. “What do you mean by ‘a little pregnant’?” he asked. “Isn’t it kind of an all or nothing sort of thing?”
“The doctor said that I may or may not be pregnant. It’s really early, and with the car accident and everything…” her voice trailed off, and he noticed tears in her eyes.
He understood. He leaned down and kissed her softly on the lips. “Hey, hey,” he consoled her. “We’ll figure this out.”
He wiped away a tear as it slipped back onto her pillow. Her poor face looked so painful, and he wished there was anything he could do to make her feel better. He placed his hand on her stomach. “Can I tell you a secret?”
She looked at him with questioning eyes.
He bent toward her and lowered his voice. “I hope you are pregnant.”
She laughed through her tears. “Whatever.”
He shook his head and rubbed her midsection. “I’m serious. You’re still a flight risk. If you have my baby you’ll never be able to get rid of me.”
She laughed again and winced with pain. He suddenly realized why she wasn’t taking the morphine. “The doctor said I should, but I’m trying not to take it,” she explained.
He picked up the button and pressed it. He couldn’t stand seeing her in so much pain. “If you can’t rest and get well, that isn’t healthy for the baby.”
She obediently nodded. “Elena knows, but I don’t want to tell Mom and Dad till we find out for sure what’s going.”
Marcus started laughing. “I wish I had brought my body armor. Your dad is going to kill me.”
· · ·
Marcus spent the night at the hospital with Journey, while her parents went home to sleep at her apartment. They offered to bring her some of her things and, though she felt very awkward about it, she had to ask them to bring some of the clothes Marcus had left there over the past month as well. She realized that no matter how old she got, she would probably never stop fearing their disapproval. They weren’t surprised, however, and agreed to bring them anything they needed.
Before her parents returned in the morning, Dr. Woods came in to check on her. “Knock, knock,” she said to announce her presence at the door.
Journey looked up from the bed as the doctor came into the room. “Good morning.”
“You look much better today,” Dr. Woods said as she approached the bed. It was then that she noticed Marcus, and she paused hesitantly.
Journey nodded. “It’s OK. This is my boyfriend, Marcus Garrett. He knows.”
Marcus extended his hand.
She accepted it and smiled. “I’m Dr. Woods. Journey’s obstetrician.” She turned her focus back to Journey. “It looks like everything went well with your surgery. How are you feeling?”
“Sore,” Journey answered.
The doctor nodded. “I’m sure.” Just then a nurse wheeled in a large computer-shaped device. “I want to go ahead and do an ultrasound this morning if that’s OK.”
Journey nodded. “Sure.”
“Do you want me to stay?” Marcus asked.
“Yes. You caused this,” Journey said, winking at him.
The nurse began hooking up the odd machine. Dr. Woods filled out something on a clipboard. “This is a transvaginal ultrasound. Have you ever had anything like this done before?”
Journey shook her head.
“It’s going to be a little awkward,” the doctor said and held out what looked like a giant magic wand.
Journey raised an eyebrow. “Are you casting a spell on the baby?”
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Dr. Woods smiled, and Journey blushed when she explained how it was used.
Marcus looked down at her with wide blue eyes. “Is it wrong that I’m a little turned on right now?”
Journey, the doctor, and the nurse all laughed.
A few moments later, the doctor switched on the machine. Between the pain of moving her legs at all and the ultrasound gizmo, Journey was quite… uncomfortable.
After a few seconds, Dr. Woods turned the cart a little so Journey could see the fuzzy black and white screen. The doctor pointed to a black blob in the middle of all the white fuzz. “This is called the gestational sac. It’s where the fetus grows.” She moved the wand around a little and pressed a button on a keyboard with her free hand to enlarge the picture. Then she pointed to a tiny little bean shape on the edge of the blob. “Do you see that?”
Journey nodded.
“That is your baby,” she said. “And this tiny blinking light is the baby’s heartbeat.”
Journey sucked in a deep breath and held it. Marcus’s grip on her hand was making her fingers go numb. “It’s alive?” Journey asked.
The doctor nodded and smiled. “Very much so. The heart rate looks wonderful. Maybe a tad bit slow, but that’s probably because of the morphine,” she said.
Marcus kissed Journey’s hand and laughed. “No way!”
“This little guy isn’t out of the woods yet,” she explained. “But this is much better than I expected. We will keep an eye on it while you're here, and as soon as you're released you’ll need to follow up with myself or another O.B. immediately.”
More uncontrollable tears fell down Journey’s cheeks. She was so happy and terrified that she felt a little queasy. She looked at Marcus in disbelief. “We’re going to have a baby.”
He leaned over and pressed his lips to hers. “We’re going to have a baby.”
11
The Big Day
Journey put her hands on her hips in front of the full length mirror of her new master bathroom and groaned. “This is such a cliché.”
Her mother laughed behind her. “I think cliché is the closest I’m ever going to get to traditional with you,” Carol said as she clasped a simple diamond solitaire necklace around Journey’s neck.
Journey smoothed the soft white fabric over her nineteen-week baby bump. The dress was short and sleeveless. It was fitted at the top and then fell loose just below the silver sash that crowned her growing tummy. Her mother, dressed in a lace covered skirt suit, smiled over her shoulder. She pulled Journey’s gently curled hair back into place, flowing down her back. “You really do look beautiful.”
Journey turned to survey her right side more closely. “Do you think I should wear the shawl?” she asked as she studied the bright pink scars that hideously decorated her arm.
Carol shook her head. “Not at all. No one will even notice.”
Journey doubted her words but appreciated the sincerity in them. She reached up and squeezed her mother’s hand that rested on her shoulder. “Thanks, Mom.”
“Your groom looks pretty handsome as well,” Carol said, urging her in the direction of the window.
Journey peeked out to see Marcus laughing with his partner, Curtis Martin, on the back patio. He had sunglasses resting on the top of his head, and he was holding a beer bottle in his hand. He wore a light gray suit and white shirt that was unbuttoned at the top. Journey had disallowed him from wearing a tie. His black hair was cropped short on the sides but a little messy on top. He had just a hint of a five o’clock shadow. The ceremony hadn’t even started yet, and she was already looking forward to the wedding photos of him. He was still one of the most beautiful men she had ever seen in person. How on earth they wound up together continually baffled her.
Elena stuck her head in the bathroom door. “You about ready?”
“Just need to get my shoes on,” Journey answered.
“Do you need help?” her mother asked.
Journey shook her head. “No, I can do it.”
Carol kissed her daughter’s cheek. “I’ll see you out there, Mrs. Garrett,” she said with a sweet smile.
Her mother and sister left her alone to tend to her silver sandals. She sat down at the vanity and bent to strap them around her ankles. Her phoenix tattoo was still bright with color. She still loved her tattoo as much as the day Marcus and Kara had bought it for her. That birthday felt like it was part of a different lifetime. As she ran her hand over the colorful ink, the light from the window bounced off her thumb ring, and her heart twinged with a familiar pain.
Journey’s life was full and happy. She had recently moved into Marcus’s big, beautiful home near the river. They had just found out that week that they were expecting a baby girl. She was the envy of every girl in Emerson, marrying the most sought-after bachelor in the tri-state area. And while Journey had never been the type of girl who dreamed about her wedding day, if she had, this wedding would’ve been her dream. Most of all, she was moments away from walking down the makeshift aisle in her backyard to marry a man that she truly loved and respected. But in that instant, the glimmer of sunlight off a scuffed and tarnished silver band ushered in David Britton’s memory like an uninvited, belligerent in-law.
She couldn’t help but wonder where he was and what he had become. She wondered if he, too, had fallen in love with someone else. She wondered if he was happy. She wondered if he ever thought about her. As desperately as she didn’t want it to, her heart ached for that irrevocable moment in time when she knew she had chosen wrong. She took a deep breath and repeated Kara’s words in her mind. He hasn’t even looked for you…
Journey took a deep and labored breath. For the first time since David gave her the ring, Journey purposefully slipped the band off of her thumb. She traced her finger over it for a moment, read its heartfelt—but false—inscription one last time, and then placed it in her vanity drawer. As she slowly closed the drawer, she silently vowed to finally put David Britton to rest and stop ripping off the metaphorical scab on the wound that his sudden departure had left behind.
She straightened the new ring that was on another finger. It was an antique diamond engagement ring from the 1920’s. It had belonged to Marcus’s grandmother who passed away the year before. His grandparents had been married for fifty-two years.
There was a light knock on the bathroom door and her father, in his best Sunday suit, stepped inside. “They’re playing your song, sweetheart.”
She dabbed carefully at her eyes with a tissue, then smiled and stood up. She picked up her flowers. “I’m ready.”
12
Laying Eggs
Marcus was desperately trying to be a good husband when he insisted on taking Journey out to dinner for Valentine’s Day, but in the last days of her pregnancy, it seemed that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t do anything right. Dinner ended early with a to-go bag and his profuse apologies to their waitress. Journey’s mother had encouraged them both to spend time together before the baby came, but lately he was becoming more and more afraid that spending time together might get him killed.
“I told you that Chinese food in bed would have been much more romantic,” she told him as he helped her get out of the car when they arrived back home.
He held her hand as she waddled through the garage. “Have I told you lately that I’m really ready for you to not be pregnant anymore?”
“You did this to me,” she grumbled.
“I know. You won’t let me forget.” He held open the door for her. “You look pretty, though.”
She groaned. “I’m as big as the broad side of a barn.”
“A very pretty barn,” he said with a wink before locking the garage door behind them.
She held up her middle finger and eased her swollen body into a chair at the breakfast table. “You know what I think?” she asked.
He looked over at her. “That all men should be castrated and/or burnt at the stake?”
“Besides that,” she answer
ed. “I think women should lay eggs.”
He laughed while shaking his head. “Lay eggs, huh?”
She nodded and rested her hands on her huge belly. “Yes. I’m not sure how all that works, but I wanna sign up for that kind of childbirth. Do you know how much easier that would be?”
He nodded and washed his hands at the sink. “I’m sure it would be much easier.”
She moaned and kicked off her shoes onto the tile floor. “Did you know that a very common pesticide has been known to actually transform male frogs into female frogs that can lay eggs?”
He looked at her sideways as he took the food containers out of the bag. “I’m not sure I even want to know how you came across that information.”
She shrugged. “I read it.”
“Are you planning on poisoning me?”
“Not today, honey,” she said.
He cocked his eyebrow, noting that she didn’t laugh. He placed her chicken parmesan on the table in front of her and bent to give her a quick kiss on the lips. “I would lay eggs for you if I could, baby.”
Journey shifted awkwardly in her seat as he retrieved two glasses from the cabinet. “Your daughter won’t get her foot out of my damn ribcage.” She looked down at her stomach. “Please get out of me!”
He tried really hard not to laugh. “What do you want to drink?”
“Vodka.”
He laughed. “Water? Is that what I heard?”
“You asked what I wanted,” she reminded him.
He looked at her, waving the empty glass in his hand.
She sighed. “Chocolate milk.”
He looked at her $35 fine Italian dinner and laughed. Chocolate milk seemed to be her drink of choice that month. He poured her glass full, got water for himself, and sat down across from her. “Happy Valentine’s Day, wife,” he said, holding his water up for a toast.