Jenna
Three Days later:
To: Cal Harrington
From: Jenna Pruitt
Subject: EMERGENCY! PLEASE CALL!
Stop being a coward and fucking call me already!
Text message from Valerie the next day after last email:
VALERIE: Hi Jenna. Cal has received your emails and he tells me he plans on calling you back today. I’m so sorry, Jenna! He’s being a complete asshole. I have never seen him like this. I’m thinking of you and hope you’re feeling good.
Email the following day after text from Valerie:
To: Jenna Pruitt
From: Cal Harrington
CC: Valerie Lewis
Subject: Current Situation
Jenna,
My assistant has discussed with me the reasons behind your emails and phone call. While I would hope you wouldn’t try to deceive me for monetary gains, I’m not in the position to be present in the child’s life. My current focus needs to stay on my career. A paternity test will be conducted, and if the DNA matches, then financial arrangement shall be made.
Please contact my assistant once the child is born.
Best of luck to you,
Cal Harrington
I stare at his email in absolute shock. I read his words over and over again, each time is another slash to my heart. Not because he is rejecting me, but because he is rejecting his own child. I can’t fathom how someone would not want to be part of their own child’s life. I recall him mentioning to me his desire for kids in the future - was that all a lie? I roughly brush away my tears, determined to never shed a tear over this man again. My heartache turns to immense hatred and I vow to never waste another moment, thought, or even breath on Cal Harrington ever again.
To: Cal Harrington
From: Jenna Pruitt
CC: Valerie Lewis
Subject: re: Current Situation
FUCK YOU!
20
Six and a Half Months Later
All these women who say they feel beautiful being pregnant are full of shit!” I huff, trying to catch my breath from walking around the mall. It’s New Year’s Eve, one day before my due date, and I’m beyond ready for this baby to arrive. I am well above the twenty-five to thirty pounds they recommend you gain - more like forty-five pounds on my 5’5 frame. I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in seven months and everything aches. I feel like I have been completely lied to when it comes to pregnancy. Everyone paints this picture that all things are glorious after the first trimester. LIES!
No one tells you about round ligament pain.
No one tells you about the constant pressure on your bladder.
No one tells you about the back pain.
No one tells you about the hemorrhoids.
No one tells you about the acne.
No one tells you about the wet dreams being so vivid, you wake up screaming your orgasm.
Okay, so this may not be a bad thing.
Is every woman different when it comes to their pregnancy symptoms? Of course. Am I being overdramatic? Yes. But by the time I reached the seven-month mark, I was over being pregnant. I didn’t even start to look pregnant until I was six months, the infamous round belly just showing up one day and completely freaking me out. I didn’t care if people thought I was gaining weight, but looking pregnant was different. I didn’t want anyone out of my tight knit circle to know I was having a child out of wedlock. I stayed inside most of the time and hired extra event coordinators to be on-site managers for our booked parties since Robert couldn’t be at every party by himself. I hid behind the decor tables during our news segments to hide my belly. Fortunately, the producer was understanding with my wanting to keep my pregnancy private. During the day, I act confident about my impending motherhood, but alone in bed at night, I feel anything but. While I should have wanted to be the poster child for successful women doing it all on their own, I felt more like Hester Prynne with the scarlet “A” on my chest. My mother’s reaction to my pregnancy didn’t help my confidence in my ability either.
I went to my parent’s house for dinner one Sunday evening during my fourth month of pregnancy. Despite my best efforts, she couldn’t help but notice my weight gain and wouldn’t stop her incessant chatter about how concerned she was and that something could be wrong with me, blah blah blah. So, I decided right then and there to shut her up and put myself out of my emotional misery of telling them.
“Something is wrong with me, Mother. I am pregnant.” I gulp down my water as silence fills the room and both of them stare at me.
“Oh Jenna, why do you have to make a joke out of everything? This is not funny.” She continues to cut her steak while my father puts his fork and knife down, crosses his arms against his chest and continues looking at me. Our bond together is so tight that I know he can sense I am telling the truth.
“I’m not joking, Mother. I am eighteen weeks pregnant. The baby is due on New Year’s Day.”
My mother’s mouth drops open and she goes back and forth from looking at me to my father, waiting for someone to say something. My father presses his mouth into a thin line and looks down at his plate to avoid showing the disappointment that has now entered his eyes.
“Who is the father, Jenna?” he asks quietly while fiddling with his wineglass.
“The father wants nothing to do with the baby, so I will be raising my child by myself.” I place my napkin on the table and stand, deciding it is time to leave.
My father’s head shoots up. “The hell you will, Jenna! That man needs to take responsibility and at least pay child support.” He bangs his hand against the table, jostling the silverware and wine glasses, his eyes darkening from anger.
“I want nothing to do with him, Dad.” I smile sadly as my father closes his eyes and balls his hands into fists.
“How could you, Jenna! How could you do this?” My mother shrieks as tears stream down her face.
“Oh, that’s right, Mother, because I purposely put holes in the condom we used so I could ruin YOUR reputation.” My voice laced with heavy sarcasm as I push my seat in. “So sorry for continuing to be a disappointment to you.”
“Watch your tone, young lady!” My father glares at me while my mother gets up and moves behind his chair, placing her hands on his shoulders.
“Don’t worry, Mother, my little secret will stay safe with me. I don’t need anyone’s help! Feel free to keep your distance so your reputations will stay intact.” I turn to leave and walk to the front entrance, slamming the door shut on their pleas to come back.
The following day, my father showed up alone on my doorstep, telling me he would never abandon me and that everything is going to be alright. My mother seems to need a little more time as I have not heard from her since.
True to their word, Layla and Robert have been there for me every day of this pregnancy. They came to my twenty-week doctor’s appointment and were enthralled by being able to see the baby via ultrasound. They convinced me to not find out the gender so that it would be a surprise. I can’t stand surprises and the suspense has been a constant fight among the three of us due to my desire to want to decorate the nursery. They planned a getaway trip when I was twenty-eight weeks pregnant to Fort Lauderdale for the three of us since I refused a baby shower and have made sure I have not had one stressful workday. They even came to all of my baby classes with me, which were hilarious because of Robert’s horrified expressions at watching the birthing video. Their enthusiasm for this baby has helped lessen my doubts about doing this all by myself.
So here I am, ready to have this baby and trying every old wives’ tale to see if I can make it come early. The idea of this baby coming after its due date makes me want to cry, so I try to walk faster but waddling like a penguin as I do now makes it that much more difficult.
“Jenna, slow down! You are going to pull those delicate ligaments! How much longer are we going to keep walking? We have already walked over a mile and I need to start gettin
g ready for your mother’s party.” Robert whines and looks at his watch. “You already have eaten spicy food for lunch and now the walking. Nothing is happening! And I am sorry, but don’t you even dare ask me to have sex with you to try to force that baby out!” The expression on his face is so appalled at the idea that I can’t help but laugh out loud.
“Robert, I am not THAT desperate for the baby to come out.” I look at my watch to see that it is getting late for him. “Fine, we can leave but we need to stop at the drugstore first so I can buy castor oil.”
“Castor oil? Good god, Jenna that’s almost as bad as being desperate enough to have sex with a gay man! You’re going to shit your brains out! No, I draw the line on this!” He slashes his hand in the air as if really trying to draw a line.
I shudder at the visual, but am determined to still try it. “My mother used it for me and I came out just fine.”
“Your mother is bat shit crazy and probably has a deal with the devil! She got lucky as it doesn’t work on everyone and I read it can be dangerous for the baby. Please don’t do it, Jenna.” He grips my hand and squeezes so I would look at his face to see his concern.
“How about this, I will only take half of the recommended dose, okay? Maybe even less than that. And I will take it once Layla arrives to babysit me.” I joke as the two of them have not left me alone these past three weeks. Layla will be coming over to spend New Year’s Eve with me while Robert is at the party. The plan is to have a nice dinner, watch the ball drop and have a sip of champagne. I am nine months pregnant, one sip is not going to hurt the baby and I deserve it!
“All right.” He grumbles. “But I still don’t like this idea!” We stop at the drug store and I buy the castor oil and a small bottle of root beer to drink with it and we head back to my apartment.
Four hours later and I feel like a proud mama watching her son go to the prom as Robert comes out of my guest room, looking impeccable in a three-piece black tuxedo. My eyes tear up at how proud I am of him. While I would love to blame these tears on my pregnancy hormones, I think I would have this reaction even if I wasn’t pregnant. He has really stepped up both personally and professionally to help me juggle what my new life is going to be like. He’s become the little brother I never had. I would literally be a mess without him.
Layla whistles and walks a slow circle around him. “Look at you, you sexy thang! You look marvelous!”
“You really do, Robert. You look amazing! The baby thinks so too as he won’t stop kicking since you walked back in.”
Robert places his hand on my belly and we watch my belly ripple like a low wave on the lake. This is the best part of being pregnant - feeling the baby kick and move inside of you.
“I’m still waiting for a small hand to come out of your belly and fist bump me.” He laughs and shakes his head. “Stop calling my princess a ‘he’. You know you’re having a girl for me to spoil.”
I groan at the thought, really hoping for a baby boy who looks just like me with the only thing inherited from his father are his height and magnificent blue eyes. “If it’s a girl and she’s anything like me, I will have gray hair before I am forty!” We all laugh at the thought of another sassy Pruitt girl in this world.
Robert stops laughing and his face gets serious. “I don’t know if I can handle Pamela without you.” He grips my hands and squeezes.
“You’ll be just fine. Everything is ready to go. Besides, she’s always liked you better than me anyways. Maybe she’ll try to hook you up this time with someone since I won’t be there,” I say with a hopeful smile. My mother loves playing matchmaker and has taken it upon herself at every single one of her parties to put eligible, successful bachelors in my place.
“With your mother’s tastes, I will definitely be coming home alone.”
“You better be coming home alone since you are sleeping here!” I nod at Layla’s words, really hoping he wouldn’t do that.
“Layla, unlike you, I have zero desire for both of you to hear me get down to business. So, before I leave, I want to watch you take that castor oil to make sure you do what we agreed upon.”
I nod and head to the kitchen. The directions on the package say one to four tablespoons, so I decide to only do the one. Robert and Layla both read the packaging and watch me pour the one-tablespoon into my root beer.
“Bottoms up!” I toast to them, take a swig and immediately start to gag at the horrible taste and texture of the cocktail.
“That’s what you get for wanting to get my baby out early!” Robert laughs at me as I make gagging noises.
“It’s only one day early and this is revolting! I can’t finish this!” I pour the remaining liquid down the sink drain, regretting my decision to take it.
“Can you do me a favor and please try not to poop anywhere else besides the toilet? I love you, but I really have no desire to clean up turd.” Layla shakes her head at the thought.
“I don’t think anything will even happen since I did the lowest dosage and didn’t even finish it.”
Two hours later, Layla and I are eating dinner when all of a sudden I feel a wave of nausea and I start to sweat. I feel a sharp pain and I gasp out loud, holding my belly.
“Jenna, what’s wrong? You’re completely white as a ghost!” Layla grips my hand with worry.
I run to the bathroom, having to hold my belly and my butt as I make it just in time to relieve myself. It seriously was exactly like the scene with Jeff Bridges in Dumb and Dumber.
“Are you okay in there? You’ve been in there an awfully long time.” Layla knocks on my bathroom door to check on me.
“Yeah, I’m okay, besides being traumatized by the power of castor oil.” I hear Layla laugh as she leaves my room. I take a shower, finish my dinner and settle on the couch to start watching the New Year’s Eve festivities.
I cry out loud in my sleep as an intense cramp ripples from my back to my abdomen. I sit up in my bed and hold my belly, praying that this is not another onslaught of the effects from the castor oil. The pain slowly subsides and I look at my clock to see it is three o’clock in the morning. We’ve been asleep for almost three hours. I decide to get up to see if Robert has made it home yet. I look over at Layla, who’s sleeping next to me, to make sure I don’t disturb her. I tiptoe out into the hallway to see the guest bedroom door is still open, indicating he has not arrived home. I go back into my room and lay back down. I’m about to fall asleep when another sharp pain grips my abdomen. I sit up and start to do my breathing exercises while counting to see how many seconds the pain lasts. As soon as it’s over, I take a deep breath and look at my phone. It has been ten minutes and it felt just like the first one.
I get out of my bed, grab my phone and go into my bathroom to look on the internet to check if these are true contraction. As soon as I get into my bathroom, I feel a tightening, then hear a popping sound and water rushes down my legs onto the floor. Oh shit, my water just broke! I look down in shock as we were told in our birthing class that most women’s water does not break like it does in the movies. I grab some towels to clean up the mess and go wake up Layla.
“Layla, my water just broke. It’s time.” I shake her to try to rouse her out of her sleep.
“What?” She grumbles, clearly not enjoying being interrupted.
“Time to go. My water just broke.” I turn on the lights and see her shield her eyes from the brightness.
“Your water broke?” She asks with a confused look on her face.
“Yes, it’s time to get dressed.” I pull out my going to the hospital outfit and start to put it on.
“Oh, shit!” Layla throws back the covers and races around the room to get dressed, finally understanding what’s happening.
We’re ready to go in five minutes and just as we’re about to leave, Robert walks through the door, looking exhausted.
“Whoa, why are you ladies up?” Shock registers on his face as we greet him in the living room.
“It’s time to have t
he baby!” Layla says, excitement gleaming from her now awake eyes.
“Really?” Robert looks over to me for confirmation and I nod. I grab my purse and suddenly stop in my tracks as another contraction hits me. I lean against the wall, hold my belly and breathe rapidly. Robert and Layla just stare at me, their eyes growing wide as they watch me. The pain finally subsides and as I take deep breaths, I look around my apartment, feeling like I am missing something.
“Where are the car seat and hospital bag?” I open the hallway closet and don’t see them there.
“I put them in the car before I left today just in case that crazy idea of yours with castor oil worked. I can’t believe it worked, by the way. That baby better be fine, Jenna!” Robert wags his finger at me in warning.
“Well, let’s go find out!” We head downstairs, get into my car and make the short drive to the hospital. I have another contraction in the car before I am wheeled into the hospital. Robert registers for me and after having to sit through two more contractions in the waiting room, we finally get a room in labor and delivery.
“When do I get my epidural?” I pant as another contraction rips through me. The on-call doctor and nurse are monitoring my contractions and the baby’s heart rate as I breathe through the pain.
“Your contractions are strong, so we can go ahead and start you on an epidural. Let’s check your effacement and cervix.”
“Oh, thank god!” I breathe out as the pain slowly decreases.
“You’re 100% effaced, but your cervix is only halfway there. Let’s give it another hour to see if you progress, and if not, we’ll put you on Pitocin.”
Heartbreak Warfare (Let Me In Book 1) Page 16