Finding Patience

by Eden Rose

My head jerks back while I try to do the math to remember. “Uh, about three months.”

  Her fingers hover over a box. “This is the one I recommend to newbies.”

  I quickly grab four boxes of it and turn to walk to the check out lane. I need to get out of here so I can pee on these damn tests!

  I’m pregnant. I have to be. That would be amazing if I were. Wait, I am so it’s amazing! Brett is going to be thrilled to know that he’s a daddy.

  Thirty minutes later, I have drank three bottles of water and have peed on all four sticks. They are lined up in a row on my bathroom counter while I stare at the clock on my phone.

  Finally! Five minutes have passed by.

  I look at the four sticks and my heart leaps in my chest. I’m pregnant! I’m pregnant!

  “Yes!” I scream and do a little fist pump in the air to celebrate.

  I write out a letter to Brett begging him to call me and run out of my bedroom to get in my car to drive the letter to the post office. It needs to get there as soon as it can.

  By the time I get to the post office, I’m out of breath and I have to pee again. Ohmigod! Do I already have some of the symptoms? That’s crazy.

  “Hello!” I call through the empty post office until I’m standing in front of the counter. There’s never anyone here during this time of the day so I didn’t have to worry about anything.

  “Can I help you?” An older man asks me from behind the counter.

  Eagerly, I hand over my letter. “This needs to get there as soon as it can be delivered. Can you do that?” I beg.

  My eyes are welling up with tears that I can’t stop from forming. Brett should be here with me. He should be here during everything and he’s not. It fucking sucks.

  “You’re looking at about a week for it to be sent to Afghanistan.”

  My eyes dry up and they widen. “Why so long? There has to be a faster process!”

  He swallows and then his face softens. “Miss, we are dealing with the government. We have to make sure that everything is okay before our soldiers receive our letters.”

  Frustrated, I shove the letter over to him and then force a smile. It’s not his fault that my husband is away. It’s not anyone’s fault that Brett isn’t here.

  “Uh, we have several returned letters for you here. Mrs. Monroe-Booker?”

  Hearing my married name out loud is like a jolt to the system. “Yes, that’s me.” This is the first time that I have responded to that name and it feels really good. Too good.

  The older man walks behind the partition and brings back a little box in his hands. “This was returned to you and we were going to deliver it to your house tomorrow.”

  I grab the box from him eagerly and stare at the contents. In the box, there are all of my letters that I have sent Brett for the past three months. Every letter is in there and I begin to panic.

  “Thank you,” I rush out and then turn to get the hell out of here.

  Once I’m in the safety of my car, I pull out the letters to read the messages on them. The first one just says that Brett’s not at that address anymore. The other seven have similar messages on them.

  He wouldn’t have moved and not tell me, right? Isn’t that something a wife should know about… where her husband is at.

  FIVE YEARS AGO: PATIENCE

  Pulling out my phone, I Google where Brett’s family lives. Is it just me or is it weird that we are married and I don’t even know who his parents are? Does he even have siblings? I have no idea. We’ve never talked about it.

  I rub my forehead and follow the directions to his parents’ house. Or, at least, I’m hoping that’s where I’m going. This neighborhood isn’t a very good one and I can’t help but feel very cautious as I drive my nice car through the block.

  Most of these houses show some level of neglect; whether it be the yard or the house needing a face lift.

  Sliding my hand down to my stomach, I rub the non-existent bump anyways. Even though I have only known I was pregnant for about two hours, I’m over the moon thrilled.

  My GPS starts to beep dramatically telling me I’m where I’m supposed to be. I pull up to the edge of the driveway and stare at the house where my husband had come from. As far as I knew, he lived in the apartment above the restaurant. I have no idea how long ago he lived in this place.

  It’s a dump.

  I can’t help it, but my lip curls up while looking at it.

  Just get it over with! Just do it.

  I’m a mother now, I can’t afford to be a chicken and not face my in laws.

  Carefully, I open my door gently and then slide out of the car. The road has several potholes that have been covered subhazardly and they look like shit. Pieces of asphalt are strewn all over and the road might as well be taken out and put another one in.

  The house where my GPS informed me is my destination, is an off white color and a nasty yard. Since Brett is a landscaper, I’m surprised that he had lived in this house.

  Before I can even walk up the uneven driveway, the front door opens and a woman is standing there with a cigarette.

  “Are you sellin’ somethin’?” She barks at me.

  My eyes widen as I take in appearance. I’m sure at one point she was probably a good looking woman but now she’s not. Her hair is disgustingly greasy and her skin has pock marks all over it.

  “No,” I reply meekly, afraid that I might set her off. “I’m looking for Brett Booker’s parents,” I announce.

  The woman chuckles a blood curdling laugh that makes me want to puke. “You people have nothin’ better to do than bother an old woman?”

  I walk a little closer to her, hoping that she could sense my desperation in finding Brett. How the hell did this woman raise a man like Brett? He’s everything that she’s not and I love him even more for that. He left all this shit behind but they could be the only answer to what I need to know.

  “I don’t know what you are talking about,” I clip back truthfully.

  “My son is dead and you assholes are comin’ over here tryin’ to get an exclusive or some shit.”

  My back goes rail straight. “What did you just say?” I whisper.

  Surely, I heard her wrong. There’s no one in hell that he could be dead. I would have felt it somehow. Right? The Army would have told me about this right away. I know they would have.

  Or, wait. Did they know that we got married before he shipped out? Did they even know anything about me besides me being his hang around?

  I don’t know.

  The woman giggles again and this time, I’m close enough to see her yellow teeth. Her tongue is white as she licks her lips. “If you want an interview, you gotta pay me. I want five hundred an interview.”

  I’m going to be sick.

  I hunch over and throw up everything in my stomach all over her driveway. Each time my stomach felt like it was calming down, another wave of nausea hit me like a freight train.

  Brett’s mother walks over to me and pats me on my back. “Oh no! You are gonna suffer from the Booker curse. I take it, my son knocked ya up?”

  I nod while collecting my hair to slide it to the side of my face. I need it out of my face. “Yes.”

  She chuckles. “That sucks. Sorry about your luck, kid. I wish you the best of luck.”

  The woman is about twenty feet away from me after turning to walk back to her depilated house.

  “Wait! What happened?” I question through the sobs that race through my body. My hands are shaking and I’m trying to keep myself from throwing up again.

  I will say one thing, though. My throw up doesn’t even cause a disturbance in the disgusting driveway. Now that I’m standing up straight, I see the driveway for what it is.

  A garbage pit.

  Cigarette butts are all over the cracked concrete. There’s Confederate flags hanging from the other houses. Beer cans litter the ground and finally, I see it. A big ass dog that’s glaring at me.

  “An I.E.D. blew up next to him an
d he died instantly.”

  My heart stalls in my chest, I begin gasping for air. Anything to keep breath in my body. Nothing works and I feel my vcision begin to cloud.

  I feel my breath coming in pants and I try harder than anything to keep my heart beating. There’s no way in hell that he could be dead. No way.

  FIVE YEARS AGO: PATIENCE

  I’ve become a shell of my former self. Performing is something that I don’t even enjoy anymore. I can’t stand looking at sheet music, or even a microphone. Everything I look at, it reminds me that Brett’s not here anymore.

  I’ve been wallowing for two weeks and my parents have finally had enough. Or, at least that’s what my mother says to me when she barges into my room.

  “Patience! What the hell is the matter with you? You are missing out on so many different opportunities because you have become a recluse.”

  Her perfectly styled blonde hair, flares a little on the side with her dramatic antics. Nothing she says to me will make me feel better. I might as well just admit to her that I’m pregnant.

  My father is standing off to the side of my large bedroom. I push myself out of the cocoon I made until my back is leaning against the pillow-top head board. “I’m pregnant.” I blurt.

  At first, their reactions display them not even registering what I said.

  “Come again,” my father requests with his eyebrow arched. “What you said sounded an awful like you are pregnant.”

  I nod.

  My mother storms through the distance between us and stares me down. “You stupid, stupid little girl!”

  Her hand comes down on my cheek roughly making the tears spring in my eyes.

  I don’t apologize because I’m not sorry. With Brett gone, this baby is the only thing that I have to let me know that he was real. I can’t believe he’s gone. It’s terrible.

  FIVE YEARS AGO: PATIENCE

  Nothing is the same. Everything is ruined and there is not a damn thing I can do about it. Since nobody knew that we had gotten married, I didn’t get notice of a funeral or anything. I didn’t get the flag that widows get nor any recognition about Brett.

  Each day that passes, is another day that takes me further away from Brett. His smell is no longer on my sheets. I no longer smell his cologne on my pillows. It’s like he never existed.

  The only thing that makes me remember him is the fact that I have his baby growing inside me.

  In a fit of pregnant rage, I burned the one picture that I had of us together. It was the picture we took on our wedding day and I burned it with a candle. I got so mad at him. I am so mad at him for being so selfish in dying and leaving me here by myself. It’s not fucking fair.

  None of this is fair at all and I’m all alone. I’m all alone in raising a baby at the age of eighteen.

  PATIENCE

  I can hear people talking around me and none of what they are saying is making sense to me. My eyes flutter open as I take in my surroundings of the bar that held my after party. Is it the same day?

  “Oh, good! She’s coming to!” Katie squeals while she leans over my heated face and fans her hand like it’s going to help me.

  I swat her hand away from my face and begin to sit up. “No, don’t move, sweetie,” she states again.

  Why the hell is my publicist here? I only need her when I’m trying to avoid a scandal. Which, I haven’t had to use her in a long time.

  “Why are you here?” I blurt.

  The bodies that are surrounding me, begin to move aside and that’s when I remember what happened. Why would someone be so cruel and dress up like Brett? Or… what Brett would have looked like if he were into some gang or something.

  The Brett that I remember didn’t like organized anything and he certainly wouldn’t have joined some gang.

  I’m staring at his body while he’s talking to Skin and I can tell by his body language that he’s not very happy.

  Skin is typically a nice guy but he’s fiercely protective of me which is why he’s an amazing body guard.

  “Who the fuck do you think you are coming in here and trying to get close to Patience? Respect the boundaries!” Skin demands.

  The doppelgänger shakes his head. “She’s my fuckin’ wife.”

  At hearing his voice, I’m taken back to all of those times that I would stay up late talking to him on the phone. I had to be quiet because I wasn’t supposed to be talking after nine at night for fear of damaging my voice. Each time he would tell me good night, he would say something sweet each time. A compliment, how much he loves me… Anything that made me fall asleep with a smile on my face.

  “You’re married?” Katie demands. She’s standing over me with her hands on her hips and her teeth are bared to me.

  I’d laugh at her comical look but I’m more focused on finding out what the hell is going on.

  “Yeah, she’s married!” The imposter screams.

  I decide right then and there that I’ve had enough of whatever the fuck this is. I’ve had more than enough grief over this man and the last thing that I need is to mourn him all over again.

  Pushing myself off the floor, I walk on wobbly legs over to the doppelgänger. When I’m close enough to smell that delicious scent that had always been Brett, my knees get wobbly.

  He reaches out to me and pulls me into him. The man’s hands wind their way around my hips pressing us together. Tears spring to my eyes as I push him away.

  This isn’t real. None of this is real. Brett’s dead and he’s never coming back. Whoever is doing this to me is a sick bastard and they deserve to be shot.

  I’m running out the door before anyone can catch me but I know Andre and Skin are close behind me. They don’t let me get too far away from them before they come to get me.

  Their meaty hands wrap around my biceps to slow me down from running out into the back alley of the bar. “Patience! Baby, stop,” Andre begs me.

  I shake my head. “No! Who would do this? Who would do something so mean?” I sob.

  For five years, I had hoped and dreamed that something like this would happen. That he would magically appear again and we could be a family. We could be everything that I wanted us to be when I said yes to marrying him.

  But I was stupid.

  Skin’s veins are popping out the side of his neck. A clear indicator that he’s pissed off about something and he’s going to handle it. “Were you married?” He demands.

  I nod my head yes. That is something that even my parents didn’t know. I kept that secret for years and I don’t need it coming out to social media. That’s the last thing! Those leaches would paint me out to being a publicity whore and a selfish person.

  Katie’s right behind us with her phone out in front of her. “You told me he died. You told me that Alexa’s father died over seas.”

  “He did!” I scream in the night not giving a single fuck if it’s unprofessional. “He did and whoever that is, they are a fucking liar!”

  “I need you to tell me everything. Why didn’t you tell me you were married? Isn’t that something you should tell me?”

  My hands reach up and tug on my hair that’s still curled from my concert a few hours ago. The amount of hairspray that’s in my hair… It would probably hold the curls in a hurricane.

  I begin pacing. My heels clack on the concrete behind the bar, making them echo through the night. “He died five years ago right before I found out I was pregnant. We got married before he left and then he died. I never got to tell him I was pregnant or anything. That man is a liar!” I fume.

  My nostrils flare out and I gaze at the door to get back into the bar. I’m daring him to come out and to take off that mask. It has to be a mask. People don’t just come back from the dead. This isn’t Walking Dead or whatever that show is that everyone is obsessed with.

  Katie sticks her hand out to stop me just as I hear tires squeal at the end of the alley that we’re in. “Fuck!” She shouts while pulling me by the arm back to the door to the bar.


  I plant my stilettos into the ground and I shake my head violently. “There’s no way in fucking hell that I’m going back in there!” I decree.

  Andre and Skin are already watching my back and the last thing that I need is to see that impostor again. Whoever he is… he’s a fucking asshole.

  What kind of person would pull a prank like this on a widow?

  The flashing lights from the cameras are almost blinding. I wince trying to shield my face from it but I can’t. The cameras are too bright.

  The lights are multiplying as my panic rises.

  RABIES

  So, that didn’t go as planned. Patience was in my hands. I had her soft body pressed up against me and then she ran. She ran so fast that I didn’t even get a chance to ask her what the fuck was up with that.

  I know that Patience couldn’t have got married again because we’re still married. There has to be something else that’s freaking her out to make her like this.

  I need to talk to her.

  Pushing through the people that are still surrounding me, I stride over to the door where she stalked out of. The warm air of the summer hits me in the face.

  “There’s no way in fucking hell that I’m going back in there!” Patience yells.

  Yeah, I heard her swear before but she never used to swear like that. Fuck. She was a goody-goody-two-shoes who didn’t even like saying pussy out loud.

  “Patience!” I yell through the screeching tires and the people that are pushing their way into the tight alley to get to her.

  The meat shields that are watching her, growl at me and try to push me back. No way are they going to tell me that I can’t be with my woman. She’s mine and mine alone.

  “Back off,” one of the meat shields demands with a thick sounding voice.

  Knowing that my piece is still on my belt, I don’t worry about what this guy thinks he’s going to do with me. “I’m not leaving without Patience.”

  The other meat shield, leaves Patience vulnerable to the flashing lights from the cameras. The paparazzi is running down the alley, snapping pictures after pictures of the encounters that we’re having.

  “Patience! Patience! Is it true that you’re married?” One of the dumb asses asks with his microphone pushed up to her face.