by L. D. Davis
Even though the last part was a lie, Emmet wasn’t just a guy, the rest was true. A good portion of the civilized world saw me topless in my last movie appearance and I have modeled in transparent lingerie on more than one occasion. I met the leaders of three countries and one prince, and I have done terrifying thrill chasing activities such as skydiving, zip lining, and hell, some of my fellow models were terrifying individuals. I could handle this.
I squared my shoulders as I followed the parents into the house and put on a smile that could light up the moon. I was barely through the door when a little boy with dark hair threw himself into Samantha’s arms. I knew who it was before she could even say his name. His longish hair fell into his eyes just like his father’s tended to do, and his green eyes were bright with joy and mischief.
“Owen, say hello to Aunty Donya,” Sam said after she kissed him to within an inch of his life and after he transferred his little body to Fred’s arms to escape the deluge of kisses.
“Hi,” he said and waved a little hand.
“Hi, Owen,” I said and put my hand to my throat to massage away the lump. With the exception of the shape of his mouth, he looked just like Emmet. I did eventually see pictures of him, but nothing prepared me for how much he looked like his father.
“What’s her name?” he asked his grandfather.
“Don-ya,” Fred said slowly.
“Donnie?” His forehead creased, just like Emmet’s did when he was trying to understand something.
“Close enough,” I managed.
“Donnie, it’s almost my birthday, but now Lucas has his birthday.”
“Yes, and how old are you?” I asked.
“Thrfree. Lucas is this many.” He held up a single finger.
“That’s right,” I said and couldn’t resist the urge to brush his hair out of his eyes. That action made Owen stretch out his arms to me expectantly. I looked at him with confusion until Fred straightened it out for me.
“No, Aunt Donya can’t hold you right now, pal,” Fred said.
“Oh,” I said, understanding. I stretched out my arms for him. “It’s okay. I can hold him.”
“You really shouldn’t,” Sam warned, but Owen had already wrapped his little arms around my neck.
Fred reluctantly let him go and then he and Sam let out collective sighs.
“I’m pregnant, not enfeebled,” I said to them.
I turned away from their disapproving murmurs as a woman identifying herself as Lena, Luke’s oldest sister introduced herself. I liked her instantly. She was very talkative but didn’t mince any words. She asked me a few questions about my pregnancy that left me blushing until Emmy rescued me.
“Why are you carrying that kid?” Emmy asked and playfully pinched her nephew’s cheek.
I looked into Owen’s face and he smiled at me and I think I fell in love a little. It was not something I expected to feel. Of all of the things that I expected, I did not expect to love him at first sight, especially since he was the reason Emmet and I weren’t together.
No, I chastised myself. You and Emmet are the reasons you and Emmet aren’t together.
“He’s a cool kid,” I said with a shrug.
“You look really good,” Emmy said, looking me up and down. “It sickens me that you still look like a supermodel and you’re about to have a baby. And you’re wearing heels! I would have fallen on my face!”
“Are you kidding me? I’m as wide as the state of Illinois and by the end of the night my ankles will be swollen and I’ll be waddling back to my hotel suite.”
Emmy looked doubtful. “Whatever. You look fantastic. Isn’t Aunty Donya pretty, Owen?”
He nodded and then stroked my hair. “I wike your hair.”
“I wike your hair, too,” I told him. “But Aunty Em looks hot.”
“Don’t tell him that!” She admonished, but looked pleased by my words.
I offered to put Owen down to play with the other ten thousand kids running around the house, but he refused and held on tighter. I followed Emmy into the kitchen. There were about a dozen people in there, but the second I walked in, I met Emmet’s eyes from across the room.
My heart leaped and jumped in my chest, but I managed to keep my smiling face in place, though I knew Emmet knew my emotions regardless of the mask I wore. He and Luke, who was holding Lucas, were talking to a couple of men I didn’t know. I smiled in their general direction. Luke waved as he continued to speak, but Emmet scowled. He was irritated, I could feel that clearly, but irritated at what? Was he irritated that I showed up?
I didn’t have time to think about it, because I was suddenly surrounded by family members and friends I had not seen in a long time. We were all chatting when Emmet pushed his way into the circle and held his hands out for Owen. Surprised and mildly irritated myself by his behavior, I turned aside to keep him away from his own son. I was getting pissed because after all of the time it had been since we last saw one another and after all of the shit that transpired between us, I expected a better greeting than an irritated scowl.
“You shouldn’t be holding him,” Emmet snapped. “He’s too heavy.”
“He’s fine,” I snapped back.
“Donya, you’re what, eight months pregnant? And wearing those ridiculous high hooker heels? You shouldn’t be holding him.”
“My shoes are not ridiculous! These are Manolo Blahniks, custom made for my feet!”
“Dude, what’s your problem?” Mayson said. “She knows what she’s doing.”
“I carried baskets of your dirty ass laundry heavier than Owen when I was that pregnant,” someone said from behind me. I instantly knew it was Casey, and that was confirmed when she stepped up beside me with her hands on her hips as she glared at her husband.
I glanced at her heart shaped face, cute button nose, and hazel eyes and instantly resented her presence. I didn’t dislike her, but there was no doubt that I resented her.
“It’s okay,” I said, giving in. I handed Owen to his mother instead of his father, but she immediately put him down.
“Go play instead of hitching rides with pretty women, lady killer,” she said and sent him on his way.
“He’s a cute kid,” I told her. I had to say something or else I would have stood there and scowled at her like Emmet had been doing to me moments before. His scowl was gone, but he was uneasy as he watched the exchange between his wife and me.
“Yes, but he uses his looks on easy prey like you to get what he wants,” she said, smiling. “He would have had you stealing cookies in a matter of minutes.” She hugged me. I was a little startled, but I awkwardly hugged her back. “It’s so good to finally meet you in person.”
“You, too,” I half lied.
Fortunately, I didn’t have to talk to her long. Luke came up to me with Lucas, and he hugged me as if we were old friends. I hugged and kissed and tickled Lucas and wished him a Happy Birthday. Luke put his hand on my swollen belly without asking, which usually bothered me, but I was okay with it that time. He looked awed and sad at the same time, because he had missed that stage of Lucas’s budding life.
“Your husband must be excited,” he said quietly when only he and Emmet remained with me in the corner of the kitchen.
The truth was Jerry was not excited at all. Jerry was the opposite of excited. Every time he looked at my rounded belly, it was with indifference or irritation. It was always one of the two and never anything in between. He never touched the basketball size bump, unless by accident, and even then he withdrew his hand as if I had tried to eat it.
He stopped having sex with me the day I started to show. He made up lame excuses, but I knew it was because of the pregnancy. He went to one doctor’s appointment with me in the beginning, most likely just to confirm that I was indeed pregnant, and never went to another. When I told him we were having a baby girl, he only shrugged.
“He’s too busy to really think about it,” I said and forced a small smile.
Emmet’s face
had been relaxed since his wife and the other women had gone away, but after I said that, I knew he knew there was more to it. He frowned as he looked at me.
“Well, congratulations and good luck,” Luke said and gave my belly one last touch before walking away.
“You should probably sit down,” Emmet said, eying me carefully.
“I’m fine,” I said quickly.
He sighed and met my eyes. I wanted to look away, because I knew he could see into me with those eyes, but I held his gaze.
“Can you please sit down?” he asked softly. “For me.”
I hesitated a moment and then silently nodded.
“We can sit outside,” he said, gesturing to the sliding doors that led into the backyard. There were several people outside, a lot of kids, and a couple of men stood around a grill drinking and barbecuing burgers and hotdogs and steaks. Emmet put his hand on the small of my back and led me across the yard to a seating area that was away from the rest of the party.
“I’ll be right back,” he said after he made me sit. He disappeared back into the house for a few minutes and then reappeared carrying a bottle of water and a plate of fruit and cheeses. He set them down on the table in front of me and even went as far as to open the bottle of water for me.
My hormones suddenly turned on me. I turned my head away from him as I started to cry. Why the hell was I crying? It was just fruit and cheese.
No, it was Emmet looking out for me as Emmet always did. Even with so much time, space, and heartache between us, he still wanted to take care of me.
I only cried for about fifteen seconds before my hormones jumped back to the land of the normal. I turned back, but focused my eyes on the plate of food and ignored Emmet’s heavy gaze.
“So, this is really happening,” he said with resignation.
“What is really happening?” I asked quietly as I pushed a grape around with my fork.
“You’re having a baby and she isn’t mine.”
His hands fisted on the table not far from my plate.
“Yeah, well, welcome to my world,” I said a little harsher than I meant to.
“How much more am I going to be punished for what happened?” He asked earnestly.
“Here’s a piece of interesting news, Emmet,” I said as I looked at him again. “I did not get pregnant to hurt you.”
He sighed, but fell into silence as he stared at my belly. After several seconds, he scooted to the end of his chair until his knees touched mine, and to my surprise, he placed his hand on my unborn baby. I gasped softly and my body trembled slightly. Seeing Emmet’s hand on my pregnant belly stirred a pot of emotions inside of me that had me blinking back more tears.
“I really wish things were different,” Emmet said, just above a whisper. “I wish you were carrying my baby, Donya. I love Owen and I would never wish him away, but I wish we had made different decisions and then this baby would have been ours, together.”
I was thankful that my back was to the men at the grill and most others in the yard, because tears streamed down my cheeks and I couldn’t stop them.
“But even though she isn’t mine, she is a part of you, and I know I’ll love her,” Emmet said. His eyes were moist. He managed to keep the tears at bay, but he seemed to be unable to take his hand away.
I raised my hand off of the table and then hesitantly covered his hand with my own. In that exact instant, the baby moved and we watched as our hands were pushed upward by her movement. It was almost as if she knew what kind of love was there in those two hands and she was reaching for it, because my belly rose again and again.
“This is how it was supposed to be,” Emmet whispered as his eyes met mine.
“There you are,” Casey’s voice infiltrated our moment and I hastily pulled my hand away and wiped away my tears. Emmet only reluctantly pulled his hand away as his wife approached. She stopped beside Emmet and made a sympathetic sound. “Oh, God. Pregnancy hormones?”
I forced myself to laugh lightly and wiped my eyes again. “Yeah, I mean who would have thought that cheese could make a girl cry?”
“Tell me about it. I cried about everything, too.”
I didn’t want to hear about Casey’s pregnancy. Seeing Owen was different, but hearing about those months would bother me. Fortunately, she didn’t continue, but what happened next bothered me just as much if not more. Casey pushed Emmet’s hair off of his forehead and out of his eyes.
“I hate when your hair gets this long,” she murmured.
I loved when his hair was longish like that. I loved the way it fell across his forehead and how random strands fell into his eyes. How could she hate that?
Emmet pulled away from Casey’s touch. A hurt expression crossed her face, but she quickly covered it with a chuckle and let her hand drop to her side.
I didn’t know what to make of that. Maybe they had a fight earlier in the day and Emmet wasn’t over it. Even though I could normally sense Emmet’s emotions, I couldn’t get a read on what he was feeling for Casey, and after some thought, I realized I didn’t want to know.
I stood up abruptly.
“I’m sorry,” I said to them. “I need to go find Emmy. God only knows when I’ll see her again after today.”
“Right, of course,” Casey said, smiling. It could have been my imagination, but her smile looked a little tight and I had to wonder how much she saw happen between Emmet and me.
Later that evening I sat at the kitchen table watching Emmy and Luke. When Emmy first moved in with Luke, things were tense and she was clearly unhappy. I was under the impression that Luke didn’t like her very much for all of the things she had done, but in a matter of months, their relationship had improved dramatically. They weren’t romantically involved, but their relationship was more than just raising a son together. It appeared that they were friends, and maybe more, judging by the way Luke looked at her when she wasn’t paying attention. Maybe there was some hope for them.
I wished that I had the same confidence about my own circumstances.
I don’t think that Jerry ever truly meant his promise that we would eventually have kids. He probably would have said anything to keep me placated and on his arm. If he ever wanted kids in the future, he would have gotten over his initial shock and he would have been excited about our baby. Instead, he avoided me as if I had a communicable, deadly disease. I was already having some regrets by the time I entered my last trimester. However, after the way Emmet lovingly caressed the baby bump that was in no way his, my regrets were threatening to drown me, right there in the middle of Lucas’s party, in front of a dozen other people, my soul mate, and his wife.
*~*~*
Rosa Andrea Vasquez slept peacefully in my arms, oblivious to my tears that fell on the soft blanket she was swaddled in.
It was just us, just she and I. Jerry did not show up to watch his daughter’s birth or to even support her mother. I knew he wasn’t happy about becoming a father, but I honestly believed he would have put that aside for this.
When I called him on my way to the hospital, he was getting ready for a home game. He could have easily gotten out of it, but he didn’t even try. He behaved as if my labor and subsequent childbearing were somehow inconveniencing him. The game had been over for hours, but still Jerry did not show.
I couldn’t stop thinking about Emmet, our hands on my belly and his obvious love for a baby that he had no part in creating. I wanted Jerry there because he was my husband and Rosa’s father, but my need for Emmet while I sat there in that hospital bed holding my daughter was emotionally and mentally crippling.
He was the man I should have been having a baby with, just as he said. It was meant to be that way. I went against our nature. I was not meant to be sitting in a hospital room alone with my hours-old baby. I had no one to blame but myself. I had no right to hold Emmet accountable for impregnating Casey while I was planning a wedding with Jerry. Even as hurt and angry as I had been, I should have canceled the wedding. The pri
ce of my folly was more than I could pay.
My tears fell in a deluge now, and my body trembled violently with my sobbing. The nurse walked in, took one look at me and instantly took Rosa from my arms.
“I’ll take her down to the nursery,” she said gently. She took my baby away despite my tearful objections.
Then I was entirely desolate and decidedly inconsolable.
Jerry arrived early the next morning, just in time to pretend to be the happy new father in front of Sam and Fred, who flew in late the night before. I didn’t play into his false excitement over Rosa. I didn’t do much of anything. I sat quietly, always with tears brimming, as Sam, Fred, Jerry, and later Jerry’s sisters made a fuss over Rosa. I couldn’t pull off Supermodel Donya and pretend to care, because she was sitting in a corner crying hysterically.
The doctors tried to diagnose me with postpartum depression and feed me drugs, but I was very blunt with them.
“My husband was never interested in my pregnancy and didn’t bother to show up for our daughter’s birth. He’s pretending to be happy now because people are watching him, but he doesn’t want her. He doesn’t want children. Last month I saw the man I should have married and he showed more interest in my pregnancy and my baby than my husband has shown in nine months. There aren’t enough drugs in the universe to fix this.”
After I had convinced him that I did not have any violent feelings towards my baby, he backed off and signed my release papers.
I refused to wallow in my self-pity after Rosa and I went home. I couldn’t fix the past and what I lost with Emmet, but I could fix my current situation or move on. My first night home from the hospital, I stayed up late waiting for Jerry to come home from his game. The door had barely closed behind him when I started to speak.
“You have a choice,” I said quietly, but firmly as I sat in the dimly lit living room in an armchair.
He stood there, unsure of what to say or do. It was the first time in months that I stayed up to wait for him after a game. We had been living two separate lives. We only slept in the same bed out of habit, not because he wanted to feel my warm body wrapped around his in the night. I had learned early in my pregnancy not to touch him. The rejection hurt too much to repeat.
