by Zoey Derrick
TWENTY-THREE
I hop into the shower shortly after arriving home from my appointment. When I come out, Celeste is in the kitchen. She is standing over the sink, washing dishes. The first couple of times she was here cleaning and doing dishes and such, I offered to help, but she would hear none of that.
Celeste is awesome to be around. She's very funny and down to earth, and I'm comfortable with having her here. She talks about her boyfriend all the time, and I get the distinct impression that they are head-over-heels in love with each other.
"Hi, Celeste," I say as I take a seat at the breakfast bar.
"Hi, Vivienne. How was your appointment?"
I smile because she remembered. She really misses nothing about what's going on around her.
"It was good. Mikah called in and we used...an iPad?" I say, puzzled. "He was able to watch the whole thing."
"That's awesome. Those iPads are amazing."
"I'd never seen one before. But it was nice to have him there without him being there. He said he was going to get in touch with you, ask you to show me how to use FaceTime?" I think that's what he called it.
"That was nice of him. I haven’t heard from him yet, but I can certainly show you on your iPod," she says sweetly. "So did you find anything out?"
"Like?" I say, confused.
"Did you find out what you're having?"
"Oh, yes." I smile. She looks at me expectantly and I laugh. "It's a girl."
She bounces up and down, clapping, excitement radiating off of her. I can't help but laugh at her girlish behavior.
"You're having a girl. Oh, Viv, I'm so excited for you."
I smile. "Me, too." And for the first time, I really do feel deep-down excitement about being pregnant and the fact that it's going to be a girl.
She settles down some, but I can tell that she's still really excited. "What would you like to eat?" she asks.
I roll my eyes, but my stomach growls. "Peanut butter and jelly?" I say.
She smiles. "Alright, coming right up."
"I can make it," I say, knowing full well that she will shoot me down.
"Oh, no. That's my job."
I shake my head as she gets busy. I climb off of the chair and head toward the living room.
One of the things that I hate about not working is the fact that I just sit around doing nothing. Celeste handles all the cleaning in my apartment, all the laundry, and even the majority of the cooking. What she doesn't cook, Mikah does. Well, he heats up things that she's made, but his easy manner in the kitchen tells me that he is more than capable of cooking a meal on his own.
I wonder idly about the diner. About Laura especially, and how she's doing. I haven’t thought about any of that since the attack because, well...the dream I had right before leaving the hospital. I don't know if that's now or in the future, and it scares me. I haven't called the diner because if Nyssa really is in cahoots with Riley, the less they know, the better. I make a mental note to ask Mikah if he ever told them about what happened to me.
I grab my journal off of the coffee table and take a seat on the couch. I'd been avoiding this since Red brought it back to me from my apartment. It’s just another reminder of my old apartment and what happened. I guess it was my way of dealing with the whole mess.
At the push of a button on the remote, my iPod flickers to life in its cradle. A beautiful instrumental piece starts to play as I open up my journal. The money I stored in it falls out. I'd forgotten all about this being in here. Plus there are the food stamp vouchers. Jeez, and W.I.C., too. Dang it, what am I going to do with all this stuff? I could give it to Celeste to use when she goes shopping, but I hardly see that as necessary.
I tuck the vouchers into the back of the journal and decide to put the money in my purse.
Where is my purse? Wow, I really hadn't thought about a lot of this stuff.
"Celeste?"
"Yes, Vivienne?" she calls back from the kitchen.
"Do you know where...or, if Red managed to recover my purse from my apartment?"
She stops what she's doing, almost as if she's recalled something she hadn't intended to remember. "Um, Red found it, but..." She pauses, looking at me, concern etched in her features. "I threw it out because it, um..."
Well, shit. "It's alright. What about my wallet and the stuff inside?"
She lightens up a little at my response. "That I do have. I'll run up to Mikah's and get it for you." She hurries to finish making my lunch.
I loved that bag and I'm sad to see it go, but I’m happier that I've been sheltered from seeing it covered in blood.
I shudder.
"Here you go." Celeste is standing behind the couch with my sandwich on a plate.
"Thank you," I say as I reach up and take it from her.
"You're welcome. I'll be back down in a bit."
"My wallet is no rush," I say, assuming that's why she's rushing upstairs.
"Okay, but I need to go take care of a few things upstairs, anyway. I'll let you eat in peace, and I'll be back down in a bit. Would you like to go shopping for a new purse this afternoon?"
Normally I would reject the idea, but I have the money from my journal. "I'd love to," I say with enthusiasm, and her face lights up.
"Perfect. I'll let the guys know, and when you're done eating, come on upstairs, if you'd like, or I'll be back in about an hour."
"Okay." I nod.
She turns to leave and is about a third of the way to the door when I stop her. "Celeste?"
"Yes?" She stops and turns toward me.
"Can you help me find something for Mikah while we're out?" I ask shyly. I'd like to give him something to thank him for all he's done for me, though I have no clue what.
She smiles. "Of course."
I smile back and she heads for the door. As she opens it, I can see Andrew and Connor in the hallway, talking. They turn to Celeste as she shuts the door.
TWENTY-FOUR
About halfway through the second half of my sandwich, the phone rings. I expect it to be Celeste from upstairs, but when I look at the handset I see Mikah's name and my heart flutters.
I swallow the bite that's in my mouth and click the green button. "Hello."
"Hey, beautiful," he says with enthusiasm.
I smile at his endearment. "Hi, Mikah. How are you?"
He laughs a little bit. "I'm good, how are you doing?"
"I'm great. Just finished eating a sandwich."
"Peanut butter and jelly?"
I laugh. "How'd you know?"
"Because it's what you always eat." He has a point there. "Listen, Celeste sent me a text. You want to go shopping?"
Uh, crap. "Yes, I just found out that she threw out my purse because it, um, was in my apartment." I don't need to say any more. "Though the shopping was her idea."
He chuckles. "I know it was. At my urging, though she didn't expect you to be enthusiastic about it."
"I'm not sure that I'm excited about it. I'm not much of a shopper. But I..." I debate with myself about whether to tell him about my own money. In the end I decide to be honest with him. "I finally opened my journal, and I had money stashed in there. So I'd like to get a new purse." I brace myself.
"I think you getting a new purse is a great idea. But-" Yup, here it comes. "-I've already arranged for a shopping budget for you-"
"Mikah, that's not necessary. I have some money-“
"Please, Vivienne, can I explain?"
I sigh. "Yes."
"I arranged the budget about a week ago. I wanted you to be able to..." He pauses. I hear him take a deep breath. "I wanted you to be able to buy things for yourself. And for the baby. I knew that your not working would mean you couldn’t buy the things you need or want without my or Celeste's intervention."
I think I'm maybe starting to understand. He continues, "There are certain things that I know you're going to need or want that wouldn't have been the easiest things to ask for, so I thought if I arranged a way for
you to get them on your own, you wouldn't have to ask."
I immediately think about the conversation that Dr. A. and I had this morning about sports bras and such. Surely a budget from Mikah isn’t necessary, though. A sports bra and a purse can’t really be that expensive, right?
"Vivienne?" he says quietly, bracing for my reaction.
"I...I'm just processing this. Give me a moment. I'm really trying to not be angry at you."
"My cute little tiger," he says coyly.
I smile at his tone. "What's that mean?"
"You're like a tiger trapped in a cat's body, just waiting for the moment to strike."
There is a undertone of adoration in his voice that surprises me. I actually laugh. "Well, Mikah, I've learned to expect the unexpected with you. No, I'm not happy about it. No, I don't really plan to use your money. But sometimes I feel that the argument is old because you know how I feel about it." I sigh. "You've given me so much already - a place to live, food, clothes - and it is very hard for me to accept those things from you when I have nothing to give you in return."
"That's not true. You give me everything, Vivienne."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask, surprised.
"I- Look, I really don't want to have this conversation on the phone. I would much rather do it in person. Can we discuss this when I get home tomorrow?" His voice is shaky, betraying nervousness.
"Yeah, we can talk about it tomorrow," I say, but the reluctance I feel is obvious in my voice.
"How did the rest of your appointment with Dr. Alston go?"
I roll my eyes at the sudden change in subject, but I also smile. "She's giving me clearance to go back to work, and I no longer have to wear the wrist brace."
"That's good.” He pauses, from the past encounters we’ve had, when he’s wanted something, this happens. I play with the hem of my shirt, waiting patiently for him to decide what he wants to ask me. “What if...what if I asked you not to go back to work?"
I try very hard not to roll my eyes. This isn’t the first time we’ve had discussions about working, though he’s never been so blunt about it. "Mikah, that's kind of important to my own sanity and survival. What am I going to do around here all day long? Celeste cleans and cooks everything, and I get bored easily. The only reason I've managed to stay sane so far is because you've been here. With you gone, I'm going stir crazy."
He sighs. "I know. But what if I could give you something to do all day, or at least part of the day?"
"What are you getting at, Mikah?"
"What if you could go back to school?"
"What?" I say, shocked. Going to college has always been something I’ve strongly desired - doing something with my brain - but it’s always been out of reach. “What makes you think that’s something I want to do? And even if I did want to, I can't afford it." I immediately regret that last part. I know dang well that he intends to pay for it.
"I'd take care of that, and I'm pretty sure that you'd be very good at school."
"What makes you think that?"
He takes a deep breath. "You're brilliant and..." He pauses. "I know what you scored on your SATs."
I roll my eyes again. "What don't you know about me, Mikah?" I knew from the first time he took me to the hospital that he’d pried into my past so I'm not entirely surprised that he knows my SAT scores, but it still bugs me that he's done this kind of research on me.
Then again, I researched him. Just not in as much detail.
"I don't know you,” he says, “though I'm learning more and more each day."
"Can I think about it?" I reply.
"Of course. But if you don't want to go to school and you insist on going to work, would you allow me to offer you a job at my firm?"
"Doing what, Mikah? I have no skills or experience working in an office." Honestly, what could I do at his office that I would have even clue one about doing?
"Well, I have a couple of intern and entry-level positions open that I could offer you. You could learn. I have no doubt that whatever you put your mind to you will be brilliant at." I can hear the excitement in his voice. "Listen, we can talk about this some more this weekend. I don't expect you to decide right now. Okay?"
"Alright." I sigh. "When are you coming home?"
"Do you miss me?"
"Yes."
I hear his sharp intake of breath at my words.
"Why does that surprise you?" I ask.
"Because. I miss you, too."
I smile.
"I will be home tomorrow, hopefully in the morning. Viv, I wanted to ask you something else."
"What's that?"
"Tomorrow night there is a charity gala that I'm supposed to attend. I'd like it if you would be my date."
"Uh..." I'm taken aback by his question, surprised that he would want to take me to something like that. "Mikah, I've never been to anything like that before." I pull my feet up, cross my legs and lean back into the couch. I place my hand on my belly and begin rubbing it.
"I know, but it's really no big thing. We go, have dinner, there is an auction, and dinner is followed by a dance. It's a stuffed shirt, black tie kind of thing. I am not a fan of going to them, but this one is for an important charity that I've been a part of since its inception, so it is really important that I be there. I just don't want to go without you."
I'm pondering his words as I continue to stroke my belly. "I have nothing to wear," I say, and he chuckles.
"Does that mean you'll go?"
I roll my eyes at his enthusiasm. "Yes, Mikah, I'll go."
"Yes! Okay, I will have Celeste make some arrangements for you to have a nice, relaxing day tomorrow, get your hair done, be pampered a little. And when you guys go out today, you can find yourself a dress." The excitement in his voice is infectious, and I can't help but smile.
I splay my hand across my belly, and as I do, I feel something, almost like bubbles under my hand. "Holy crap."
"I'm sure you'll-"
"No, not that." I cut him off. I rub at my belly again, placing a little more pressure on it, and it happens again. "Whoa."
"Vivienne, what's the matter?"
I feel tears on my cheeks. "I-" It hits again. "I think she's moving. It feels like little bubbles."
"Vivienne, are you serious?" he says with major excitement in his voice.
I laugh a choked laugh. "Yes, I'm serious. It feels so..." I can't think of the words.
"Viv, that's so...wow."
My thoughts exactly.
TWENTY-FIVE
Not long after I get off the phone with Mikah, Andrew comes into the apartment, hands me an envelope and tells me that Celeste will be down shortly. The envelope has some papers and something flat and hard inside. I open it up.
Inside is a letter and a black and silver credit card that says American Express Elite and has my name on it. Holy shit, his damn shopping budget involves a credit card.
I open up the letter. At first I think it’s handwritten, but when I run my fingers over it I realize it’s been printed in a font that looks just like his handwriting.
Dearest Vivienne,
In this envelope you will find your very own credit card. Please do not be mad at me, but after our conversation today, I wanted you to be able to go out and go shopping with Celeste with your own credit card.
Andrew and Connor will accompany both of you, and I've reserved some private shopping time at Neiman Marcus to cut back on security concerns. Please make sure that you also pick up a coat or two, one for tomorrow night and one for everyday use. While I love seeing you in my Boston College sweatshirt, it is hardly warm enough for the weather.
I hope you enjoy your shopping. Once again I'm awed by the fact that I've been able to be a part of yet another milestone in your pregnancy.
I cannot wait to see you tomorrow.
Be Safe,
M
By the time I'm done reading the note, I'm over the fact that he insists on paying for my shopping. He's actually
given me a list of the things he would like me to buy, which makes it a little easier to take the credit card, though I'm not sure I’ll feel right using it for anything other than what he's outlined.
Neiman Marcus turns out to be a beast of a store – huge and full of everything and rather overwhelming. However, I do manage to find a dress for tomorrow night. I’m shocked beyond measure when I see it. It’s too perfect and I’m able to wear it, pregnant belly and all, without purchasing a maternity dress. Celeste comments at one point that, despite my belly, my small frame will allow me to wear regular style clothing for some time before I really have to get into the maternity styles. I’m relieved to hear it because I’m not all that impressed with the maternity section in the store.
I also manage to find shoes and a coat for tomorrow night that actually match the dress, as well as a coat for everyday use. I also pick up two bras from the maternity section; when I try them on, the soft, supportive fabric brings nearly instant relief.
Purses are a whole other issue. Neiman Marcus doesn’t have a single purse that I like within my price range, but when I ask Celeste if we can just go to Target or Wal-Mart, she looks at me like I've lost my mind. Eventually I find one that I really like for day-to-day use. Then I find a second one that’s white and matches my dress for tomorrow night. It’s smaller and fancier, definitely not for everyday use. I refuse to look at the price tags on them as we head toward the register.
Celeste does her best to encourage me to buy more things, but I’m determined to use Mikah's credit card only for the things that he's pointed out.
When we’re done, we head home. I’m exhausted from all of the day’s events and very thankful that Celeste is making me dinner because I don't have the energy.
Just as I sit down to eat, Mikah calls my iPod using FaceTime, and Celeste shows me how to use it. Mikah’s exhausted, too. We cut the conversation short because his flight out of Phoenix is leaving early in the morning.
After dinner, I curl up on the couch to watch a movie, but before I know it, my eyelids become heavy. I manage to turn off the TV and stumble into the bedroom before falling into a deep sleep.
