by J Marie
I cry myself to sleep that night. For once, I just let all my thoughts and emotions flow freely.
My stomach woke me up again, bright and early this morning. I hate the puking, but I’m finally starting to come to terms with it. The porcelain goddess and I will become the best of friends by the time this is all over.
I’ve taken a shower to make myself feel a little better. Ran a comb through my hair, put on leggings and another oversized sweater.
The smell of breakfast wafts into my room. Sugary sweet bakery smells. I finish getting ready, wondering who’s cooking breakfast. My feet lead me to the kitchen, and I come across an older lady standing in front of the stove. She turns and smiles when she hears me come in, motioning for me to sit at the table—a few seconds later, Macy bounds in too.
“Morning, Mia.”
“Morning, Mace.”
“How’d you sleep last night?”
“Ehh, it was tough getting my brain to shut off. I just kinda laid there for a while and stared at the ceiling.”
“Well, I have just the thing that may help you relax today.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Mmmhmm. Roberta is going to cook us up some breakfast, and then Trevor hired a couple masseuses and nail technicians from the ski resort to come over and give us massages, pedis, and manis. Girls days in. How does that sound?”
“Heavenly. You got a good one, Macy.”
“I sure did. Sometimes, he’s a royal pain in my ass, but I wouldn’t trade him in for the world.”
Roberta, or Bertha, as Macy calls her finishes up breakfast and brings it to the table where we’ve planted ourselves. “Anything else you ladies need?” she asks politely.
Macy smiles at her. “Thank you, Bertha. I really appreciate you coming out on an off day to make us food.”
“Oh, I don’t mind at all. I’m going to head out now. Sounds like you two have a fun afternoon planned.” We watch her finish cleaning up and then leave us alone.
“Did we really need a cook for breakfast?”
She shrugs her shoulders and laughs. “Trevor insisted. How could I resist?”
I proceed to make a vulgar thrusting motion. “I’m sure he did.”
“Oh, good Lord, woman. Do you ever not think about sex?”
“Currently, no. It’s all about the dick…”
“Alrighty then. So we’ve got a couple hours until they show up, what did you want to do? I could show you around the lodge, and we could watch people learning to ski. It’s always funny when they fall on their ass time and time again.”
“Ugh, I don’t really feel like doing anything, to be honest. How about we throw on some Gilmore Girls and catch up with Rory and Lorelai.”
“From the beginning?”
“Yes, to Stars Hollow we go!” I throw my fist into the air, and we both laugh. Finishing up the rest of our breakfast, we make our way to the media room so we can watch it on the big screen. Plopping down on the couch, we put our feet up, click on Netflix, and proceed to sing along with the opening credit song.
Macy sighs. “Oh, Dean…”
“Ehh… I was more of a team Jess girl, myself.”
She rolls her eyes. “Of course you were!”
“Come on…the dark hair, the bad boy attitude, the swagger… I had a lady boner over him for sure.”
“It’s not like Dean was a goodie two shoes either…”
“Still. Team Jess.”
“Nope. Definitely Dean.”
“Let’s just say we agree to disagree.” We both nod.
The ladies from the spa show up right on time at two o’clock. They set up quickly in the living room, and we’re in the middle of our massages.
“Oh,” I moan. “That feels amazing.” I sound like a hooker having a fake orgasm, but damn, it does feel good. I have been dealing with a lot of stress lately and this is just what I needed.
We move on to pedis, and I chose attitude black for my color, while Macy goes for lavender.
“Hey, you said his favorite color is blue, right?”
“Yeah?” I say, looking back at her.
“Maybe paint your ring finger blue, just for Brooks then. A pop of color and something to let him know you were thinking about him.”
I lean back in the leather chair and groan as the nail tech digs her fingers into my arch and squeezes. Is it weird that I actually like foot rubs? I blame Brooks. He’s got me hooked on them, and now I can’t live without them.
Susan isn’t doing as good of a job as Brooks does, but he’s not here. Gah, will I ever stop thinking about him today?
Probably not, my brain whispers.
Macy’s eyes find mine with a concerned look. “You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?”
I shrug. “How can I not? I miss him, and it’s only been a couple days since I’ve seen him, avoiding him and all.”
“Oh, girl. He’s stolen that heart right from under you. You got it bad for him.”
I take a deep breath and sigh. “Something like that…I just wish I knew what he was thinking, ya know? I thought some part of him would be happy because he told me he loves me, but then we got in that huge fight, and I have no idea how he feels about me and the little nugget.”
“I’m sure he’s happy, babe. He loves you, and that little nugget is a part of both of you. How could he not?”
“I guess. I just…”
“I know, your brain is going on overdrive. Just let it pan out like it’s going to. You guys will figure it out. That little nugget is going to change things, but I guarantee it won’t change the way he feels about you. You’re going to have to be brave. This badass vibe you have is cool, I love her, but sometimes it’s okay to let people know that there’s a real person in there with feelings and love.”
I rub the sponge against the glass a little harder, quietly letting out a string of elicit words.
“You scrub that glass out anymore, you’re going to kill it.” I look up to find Willie eyeing me from the other side of the bar top.
“You can’t kill a glass, Willie.”
He grunts his agreement. “Nope, but I got your attention, didn’t I?”
“Guess so.”
“Uh, oh. What’d you do this time?”
I put both hands on the bar top and blow out the breath I’ve been holding. “Ugh. Yep, I opened my mouth and stuck my fucking foot right in it.”
“Been there, done that, son.”
“I highly doubt it. It was… bad. She didn’t even tell me goodbye. She left me a note with no mention of when she’d be back or if she’d be back. I fucked up really good.”
I’ve been replaying every single line of our conversation on continuous repeat for the last two days, and every time I try to get home early or get her to talk to me, she disappears.
I should’ve kept my mouth shut. Hell, maybe I should’ve asked her to marry me just so I wouldn’t be in this situation. Now she seems to think that I don’t want her, which is an absolute lie. I should’ve wrapped her in my arms and told her how lucky I am that she’s carrying my child. That she means more to me than anything I’ve ever wanted, but I didn’t, and now she’s gone.
“I’m sure she’ll be back, kid.”
“Oh, you don’t know that.”
“I have a feeling about these things. So, ya gonna tell me what happened or not?”
I question whether it’s really a good idea to share all the shit that happened, but it’s eating me up. I need to talk to someone, and my family isn’t a viable option. They basically disowned me when I left, never looking back. I could try talking to Donatello, but I don’t want to drop all my problems on the guy that just walked back into my life. Willie’s always been here for me. “She’s having my kid.”
Willie hoots. “You knocked her up? Damn, son, that was quick. Definite way to get her to stick around. You sure took rocking the boat to a new level. Congrats.”
I nod slowly. “Didn’t plan on it. Just sorta happened.”
“I’m sure you’re probably not the first guy who stuck his foot in his mouth after his woman told him she was pregnant with his child. How do ya feel about it?”
“I love her. I’m so happy, but I didn’t even tell her how I felt. I just went on and told her that I wouldn’t ask her to marry me because that wasn’t a reason to get married,” I admit.
“Ouch… I imagine that wasn’t a great idea.”
I clear my throat, emotion clogging my throat. “Exactly. I messed up, Willie. I’m going to be a father, and I have zero idea where I stand with my baby mama. She owns my heart and soul, has since the first time I laid eyes on her in this bar. She is everything to me.”
“You got it bad. You think about trying to call her or send her a text?”
“No, I was trying to give her some space, and it sucks. For the first time in my life I finally felt complete, whole. Like she’d closed up the part of my heart that was still cut open, but now she’s gone.”
“Well, this ain’t the end. Last thing you need her to think is that you don’t care. Just because she said she needs space doesn’t mean you stop fighting for her. You fight like hell. You don’t run.”
“Yeah, maybe that’s a good idea. It’s just… I wanna raise the baby with her. Hell, if I knew she’d say yes to a marriage proposal I’d have already been down on one knee, ring in hand, but she’s still closed off from me. I want her to be happy, but after that night, I’m not even sure if she’s going to keep me. You want another? Your glass is empty.”
He chuckles. “You know, I do.”
I reach over, grabbing the whiskey, ice, and another glass. “Here you go, friend. It’s on me, say it’s for good advice.”
“You know you could grab her some flowers and do something nice for her. She got any big events coming up or things happening that you can make her feel special over?”
“The gallery that’s showing her artwork is doing a big opening night for her event, but I don’t know when it’s scheduled.”
“There ya go. Pretty sure you could do some snooping and find out when it is. I happen to know she’s friends with Zara. I’m also sure you can come up with a little something to celebrate with her. Can’t have champagne on account of the kid and all that, but flowers and sparkling juice may be nice, Brooks.”
“So you do know my name?”
“Of course, I do.”
“Why do you always call me son?”
“Cause you remind me of my own son.”
My eyebrow raises. “I didn’t know you had kids…”
“Now you do, but I don’t need to get into all that. You need to talk it out more?” His admission shocks me. Hell, maybe he does understand a thing or two about women and what I’m going through.
“Nah, I think I’m good. I appreciate you listening to me.”
“Anytime, now I’m gonna head on over and harass Charlie. It ain’t fun if I can’t get a rise out of him at least once a day. Good luck with your girl. Remember, listening is helpful. Take little clues from her on how to act. She’ll tell you what she wants from you, ya just gotta know what to look for… You’ve got this. I think you’ll be just fine.” I shake my head and chuckle as he walks away. A few minutes later, I hear hoop and hollering from where Charlie and Willie sit in the back corner of the bar.
The next couple of hours go smoothly. A bachelorette party came in for a little while, but it’s mostly college kids coming in to shoot pool or play darts. I mess around with some new drink ideas.
It’s up to us to keep up with drink changes, and I’ve been trying to make something specific for Topsy Turvy. I’m thinking something green that would happily turn your world upside down with just one sip like Green Chartreuse or Absinthe, but those aren’t exactly shit college liquor. Maybe something cotton candy pink, something that reminds me of the spicy little pixie I can’t stop wanting to call mine. The urge to go home and see if Mia’s there hits me like a ton of bricks because I miss her. Being without her is like not being able to breathe underwater.
My heart beats faster with each step I take toward our apartment. The wind is bitter cold tonight, and snow is still falling in crystalline shaped diamonds from the sky. Not enough to lay, but enough to make you freeze being out in it for just a little bit of time.
I can see my breath with each puff out. I pull my knit hat further down over my ears and my scarf just a little tighter. Anxiety spreads its wings wide inside me, not knowing if she’s even home yet. There’s been zero communication about when she’s coming home, and it worries me. I fling open the door to our apartment building and take the stairs two at a time. Quickly unlocking our front door, I fling it open, hitting the wall, but I’m not sure what I expect. At some point I’ll need to stop slamming open the door. That’s what I do know.
Her bag isn’t hanging off the chair like it normally does. There’s no cotton candy and vanilla scent permeating the air.
She isn’t home.
My heart sinks.
Our apartment just isn’t the same without her. There’s no smell of marijuana mixing with the smell of paint as she creates patterns and shapes on the canvas. Her loud, obnoxious laugh is gone as well. It’s lonely. For once, there’s no purple, pink, and blue hair in my shower drain, reminding me I live with a cotton candy haired pixie. I refuse to believe that she isn’t coming back. I have to keep hope alive.
I miss laying with her in bed, being inside her. I’ve become the lovesick guy after only a couple of days. I miss how she chides me at my lack of knowledge about sexual innuendos.
I grab a cold beer from the fridge and plop myself down in my recliner. A smirk crosses my face at the look she gives me every time I sit in this chair. The one she hates so much, but I always catch her in.
Maybe texting her isn’t such a bad idea.
Me: Hey. I miss you.
Mia: Miss you too.
Me: I don’t want to rush you. I know you wanted space, but I wish you were here. I miss wrapping my arms around you and giving you one of my bear hugs.
Mia: I miss that too.
No indication of when she’s coming home, but I still have hope. I have to.
Me: What are you wearing?
Mia: Brooks…
Me: Come on. I’ll start out. I’m wearing your bright red lacy thong and thinking of you. Ya know, this color is actually very ravishing on me if I do say so myself. And the way it cups my balls. Makes my package look nice…
Mia: Oh, my God. Please tell me you aren’t wearing my underwear right now.
Me: I’m not really, that would be super uncomfortable, plus having something in my ass crack all day, I’ll pass. They look sexy as hell on you though.
Mia: I’m still mad at you.
Me: I know you are. Come home, pixie girl. I want to apologize to you over and over again.
Mia: Does that include dick? If not, I’m not interested.
Me: He’s ready and available, waiting just for you, baby.
Mia: Thanks for making me smile, Brooks.
Me: Please come home, Mia. We can talk this out. I don’t want to do it over text.
Mia: I’ll be home tomorrow. I expect flowers, groveling, and your dick with a big ass bow on it.
Me: Anything for you. I’ll be ready and waiting. I can’t wait to see you.
Mia: Me too, Brooks.
I wake up the following morning after tossing and turning all night and race to Mia’s room. I’m not entirely sure what I was expecting. Her bed still sits neatly made and my smile disappears. I know I need to chill out before seeing her again. She might freak out if I come on too strong.
I decide on a workout and run. It’ll do me good to get my thoughts in order before I see her. For the next hour, I let my lungs have it, until they start screaming at me to stop from all the cold air.
Exhaustion pulls in my limbs, and my running clothes are drenched in discarded fear and sweat. I’ve got a plan, now I just have to execute it.
Getting home, I quickly take a shower
. Throwing on Mia’s favorite pair of grey sweatpants and a tee-shirt, I make some breakfast quickly and sit down on the couch to wait.
Hopefully, she’ll arrive soon. Ten minutes later, I hear the lock on the door click.
It’s now or never.
The spa day yesterday was exactly what I needed. A day to just relax and try to chase my overwhelming fears and panic away. It hadn’t done that specifically, but it had given me a chance to get my thoughts in order.
The drive home gives me more time to think. I think I’ve finally figured it out. It’s almost like Brooks brainwashed me into having feelings, but somewhere along the line, I started to believe in them too. Who knew that all this love he threw at me would make me believe in it after all.
Bertha made me a muffin for the road and then made a puss face at me when I asked for a coffee. Apparently, coffee is off-limits too, unless I want decaf. What is the purpose of decaf coffee? Instead, she gave me some juice.
I hated saying goodbye to Macy, and she was sad to see me go, but it was time. She understands my desire to go home and deal with everything.
The time has come to stop hiding from my life. Brooks and I have a baby on the way, and we need to get our shit together. No matter how today pans out, I need to be prepared to walk away if he says he doesn’t want to do this anymore.
This baby deserves everything I can give it. It needs to know it’s loved. I never want this child to go through what I did, wondering if you’re more than just a mere existence that’s never been wanted.
I put the car into park outside the apartment and stop to breathe in the chilled air. It’s a shock to my lungs, but I cling to the initial zap. Rubbing my hand over my still flat stomach, I whisper, “Okay, nugget, let’s hope this goes well.”
The stairs seem daunting, and my heart beats harder with each step. Taking another deep breath, I notice that my hands are shaking.
The events of three nights ago rain on my parade, and I feel nauseous about all of it.
What if he doesn’t want us? A little voice in my brain whispers.
