The Flight of Hope

by HJ Bellus

  “We are having a baby.” My hands go to our baby.

  “How?” He steps closer, lowering to his knees.

  I plant my hands on the top of his shoulders. “You see when a boy loves a girl and they…”

  His lips are on our baby bump. His trembling fingers raise my shirt. His lips pepper kisses all over my skin. I reach into my back pocket and pull out the tattered envelope.

  “This is for you.” I hold the envelope between us.

  “What is it?” He gazes up, happy tears cascading down.

  “Open it if you want to know if you’re going to have a daughter or son.”

  He doesn’t hesitate tearing it open. He unfolds the paper, scanning the paper with urgency. I witness the moment he sees the gender. His attention goes back up to me.

  “Do you know?”

  I shake my head, holding back my eagerness. He folds the paper up, tucks it in a pocket in his fatigues, and rises to a standing position. His familiar, strong hands cup my face, and he kisses me like he never has. It’s raw and intense in front of the crowd. He pulls away, leaving my lips swollen and bruised with his imprint.

  “We are going to be parents.” Kiss. “And it seems a whole lot of pink is in our near future.”

  “A girl?” I ask.

  He nods.

  It’s my turn to kiss the ever-loving hell out of him, clutching to his neck.

  “Hope. We held it for years, and now our own little Hope is on her way.” Bentley uses his thumb to brush away my happy tears. “Hope Marlee-Ann Foster.”

  “It’s perfect,” I mumble into his lips, going in for another kiss.

  We make a detour to the pond on our way home. Our hands were all over each other on the way, never letting go. We revert to our high school ways, easily driving out to the pond with our headlights off. There’s no blanket tonight, fancy lighting, or tent, it’s just us. It’s all we need. The windows fog up as Bentley lays me across the front seat of his truck.

  “You were thinking ahead when you brought my truck to pick me up, weren’t you?” he asks, covering my body, peeling away each piece of clothing.

  “Maybe.” I shrug, tilting my head to the side.

  Bentley takes full advantage kissing, licking, and biting at the tender flesh. Nothing about our frantic motions is romantic. It’s raw desire and longing coming full circle. Soon we are stripped bare, writhing against each other. Passion pools, controlling every single part of me.

  “Is it…um safe?”

  “Don’t be an idiot and take me,” I respond.

  “Seriously, Marlee.”

  “Yes, and God, I’ve wanted you forever. Seems like an eternity I’ve gone without you. I need you, Bentley.” I pull him down to me by the back of his neck.

  “I’m going to smash the baby.”

  “Good hell.” I reach down, guiding him into me.

  His eyes slam shut, and he stills inside of me. I take it upon myself to begin the movement. Bentley’s veins pulse as he keeps most of his weight on his arms as he moves in and out of me.

  “Jesus. I thought I was going to vanish away in the wind without you. Hardest days I’ve ever endured. This. All of this is my home, my heart, and everything.” Bentley picks up his pace, our skin slapping together, creating a beautiful melody.

  “Ditto.”

  16

  “A flower cannot blossom without sunshine, and man cannot live without love.” -Max Muller

  A set of deft hands brush over my protruding belly. Our little girl begins to kick and roll, not only can I feel it, but when I peeked open my eyes, I can see the tumbling motion.

  “Does she ever stop?”

  I wipe the sleep from my eyes, covering my mouth with my free hand as I yawn. “Yes. I remember the first time I felt her move. I thought it was nerves or gas, but since that day she’s never stopped.”

  “Tell me exactly what you were doing.” Bentley leans down, peppering our baby bump with kisses. “I want to know it all. It still seems so surreal to me.”

  A pang of guilt hits me for not telling him the night he called from the hospital. Bentley has reassured me over the last few days that I did the right thing, but I still feel like shit for it. He was in an active war zone the last few months, and that’s the reason there was radio silence. He’s talked about Sam a few times. It hasn’t gotten any easier. I know it’s scraping away at his soul, but Dad has reassured me it’s something he’ll have to work through on his own time.

  “The first time it happened I was at work. I was finishing up some paperwork, bending down filing some papers, and I felt it. My first instinct was to grab for the trashcan because the puking was horrible at the time. I stayed over the trashcan for long moments and then it passed.

  “I chalked it up to gas pains and kept on going. Well, a few days later, it was one of the nights I finally went back out to the fishing pond. I was all set up in my chair and had cast out a few times and hadn’t caught anything. The sun was about to set, you know that time Papa Wally always said was best for fishing?”

  I wait for Bentley to nod his head and continue telling my story.

  “I cast my line out one more time, and the same sensation hit me. Again, I thought I was going to puke. Which was odd because it seemed the morning sickness had faded away.”

  I run my hands up and down his shoulders.

  “And you know I don’t know why they call it morning sickness because those first four months were brutal, but the three month mark it hit with a vengeance. It didn’t matter the time of day, the smells, or where I was; I would up-chuck without warning.

  “So you can see I became a little cautious. I sat back in the chair and then all the sudden my stomach kept fluttering. At the time, I was steadying myself to lose my cookies. But it never came. However, the fluttering sensation low in my belly continued.

  “Right when the sun dipped below the horizon, it happened again, and I knew without a doubt it was the baby moving. It was such a crazy experience, Bentley, I have no idea how to explain it, but I knew Papa Wally was there. He was by my side smiling wide, enjoying the moment.

  “It was silly, but I cradled my abdomen hoping to feel something, but of course, it was too early in the pregnancy to feel from the outside. On the inside, it was chaos and she’s never stopped.”

  Bentley pops his head up and looks at me with tears in his eyes. “I’m so sorry I missed all of that, Marlee.”

  I reach down, running my hands through his hair and smile. “There’s no reason to be sad or apologize because you’re home safe and sound, I’m in my third and final term of pregnancy, and we have each other. I couldn’t be more thankful.”

  He inches up my body until he’s at my face, peppering kisses all over my jaw, chin, eyelids, and forehead.

  “I still can’t believe this happened to us. Who would’ve ever thought especially after everything we’ve gone through? I guess it’s true what they all said; we had to be patient and our time would come.”

  I grab his hand, squeezing tight, letting him know I agree with him. “Today’s the day you get to hear your baby’s heartbeat and see her on a 3-D ultrasound. It’s incredible because you can see everything. I swear she’s going to be a thumb sucker. The two times I’ve had ultrasounds, she has her thumb nestled in her mouth.”

  Bentley liesdown against me, listening to my excitement. I called Dr. Hilton’s office, letting them know Bentley was home and asked if there was any way we could have a 3-D ultrasound so he could experience the same thing I did. They didn’t hesitate and got us in as soon as they could. And even told us it was on the house. I’m thrilled for Bentley to meet Dr. Hilton. He is going to love her.

  I fidget with my fingers, trying to bring up the next topic. It’s not going to be easy on him. The few days he’s been home, I’ve noticed how this deployment has changed Bentley. It’s not his fault, and I know it’s typical for soldiers who return from a war zone. But he did not come home the same man. It’s crushing to see the love of y
our life go through that.

  “So we have your coming home party tonight. I figured before our doctor appointment we could spend some time at the pond, head to the doctor’s appointment, and then head over to your welcome home party. How does that sound?”

  He shrugs, showing no excitement, and it’s exactly how I thought he would react. I cup his cheek and stare into his eyes. “We can call and cancel. Both of our parents are very supportive and know how hard this is on you, babe. If you don’t want to go, we don’t have to go.”

  He shakes his head and thinks for long beats before clearing his throat. “It’s not that, Birdie. I’m not sure how to explain it. It’s almost like I’ve been trapped in an intricate mousetrap maze for the last several months and now I found the exit out. I’m always looking over my shoulder even in our own house. It makes my own skin crawl. The counselor said it’ll dull over time with coping mechanisms and also mentioned there’s medication for it. I’m okay with the counseling, but I’m not good with taking medication. I need time, you, and my family.”

  I roll over, pressing him back into our mattress. I’m not as quick or swift as I used to be with this big ol’ baby bump in the road. It takes some time and leaves me gasping for air, but I manage to get him pinned down to the bed with me straddling his center, our hands interlocked over his head. Bentley grows playful, nipping at my full breasts dangling in his face

  “I’ll be your damn rock, Bentley. Hell, consider me your boulder. God knows you’ve done it for me for enough years. I’m so happy you’re home. And I know I sound like a broken record, but I swear to God, I’ll be repeating that for the rest of my life.”

  We spend the rest of the morning down at the pond like old times before marriage, the Army, and war. Before any fishing happens or we even unload tackle and poles, we fool around on a blanket. It brings back so many old memories that I’ll never forget and also gives the promise of so much more to come.

  Bentley rolls off me with his chest heaving and lies at my side, pulling me to him. I stare up at the clear, electric blue sky, letting my eyes flutter shut, picturing a little girl out here with us one day learning how to fish. She won’t have a Papa Wally to teach her the way around a fishing pole or the ways of the world. She’ll have us and two sets of grandparents who will adore her.

  We eventually make our way to our poles only to find the fish aren’t biting. I’m happy about this, so I don’t have to clean and cook them. The smell of fish still isn’t easy to swallow, and the mere thought has me gagging. Which is odd as hell seeing as I grew up fishing, cleaning, and cooking them.

  There hasn’t been one minute since Bentley’s return, granted it’s been a handful of days, but we haven’t been separated. I called into work canceling all my meetings and showings. The old me would be petrified another realtor would make a sale over me, but right now nothing else matters but my Bentley and spending time with him.

  He’s funny, washing me in the shower like he used to. The only difference is that he spends extra time on my belly. I’m pretty sure his hands haven’t left our baby bump since he’s returned. He’s quiet on the drive to the doctor’s office, and I know it’s because he’s analyzing and going over in his mind mentally preparing himself to be around people.

  It hurts like no other to see a dedicated, strong man like Bentley struggle to make his way back into society. I’ve been around the Army my entire life and know it’s a long, grilling process. He grips my hand as we walk toward the glass doors leading into the office. As Bentley reaches for the door on the left, the one on the right flies open nearly knocking me off my feet.

  A young man comes flying out, knocking me to the side as he strides by. He’s either not had a very good day or is pissed off at the world. He doesn’t stop or apologize for shoving me out of the way. Everything happens so fast, Bentley’s hand shoots out, grabbing the man by the upper arm, jerking him back. The man’s head whips to the side with a vicious snap.

  Bentley lets go of my hand, getting right up in the man’s face. I’ve never seen Bentley so pissed off and raging in my life. He’s bloodthirsty and has lost all control. I wouldn’t even categorize his voice as yelling; it’s a downright growl that would come from a rabid animal.

  “What the fuck, man?” Bentley jerks on the man’s arm. “You almost knocked my wife on her ass. And she’s pregnant with my goddamn daughter. I think you need to have a fucking lesson in respect, you little shit bag.”

  Bentley rattles the man again expecting a response. All former anger radiating from the man has long disappeared, transforming into pure fear.

  “Bentley.” I grab his arm, squeezing it. “Baby, it was an accident. Come on, let’s go we will be late.”

  I know my words will not do a damn thing to pull him out of his rampage right now, but there’s also no way in hell I’m going to watch him go to jail for assault. This isn’t Bentley. This isn’t my husband. He would never react this way. The Bentley before his second deployment would’ve called him a shit bag, shook his head, possibly threw up his middle finger, and walked away.

  “He almost hurt you, Marlee. Step back.”

  The boy manages to get out a word with his chin quivering.

  “Sir, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I was in a rush.”

  Bentley gives the stranger another terrifying shake, rattling the teeth in his head before he lets go.

  “Next time you think about supermaning a door open like that maybe picture your little sister, your mom, or someone you care about if you care about anyone, you scumbag. I better never see you around again.”

  Bentley drops his arms to his sides. The young guy takes off rushing down the sidewalk. I let go of Bentley’s arm and step back from him. I’m not scared, and I know he would never hurt me. But he needs to cool down right now. I watch him pace back-and-forth running his hands over his tightly clipped hair for several seconds before he sits down on the metal bench in front of the entrance.

  He collapses down, defeated and disheartened. It’s the last thing I wanted for this day. He leans over, elbows on the top of his knees and buries his face in his palms. After a few minutes of letting Bentley calm down, I go to him. I’d love to kneel down before him and make him look me in the eyes, but the truth is I couldn’t get back up. So I step to his side, wrapping both of my arms around him. Leaning down inhaling his scent and kissing the top of his head for a long time. My hands run rhythmic circles on his back, helping him ground himself.

  “I saw red. When there’s a threat, I can’t control myself, Marlee. I’ve survived in mass chaos where threats meant death. The adrenaline and reactions were immediate when that threat was focused on you.”

  “Babe, I get it. This is expected from what you just came from. Not that I’m saying it’s okay what you did. But right now your whole system is adjusting back to life here at home. You have a choice, you can keep talking to me and working it out and leaning on me. Or give in to those threats, reacting like you would when you were deployed and ruin your life. I’m here for you; you know that.”

  He sits up, leaning back on the bench, spreading his legs and grabs one of my hands, pulling me around until I’m sitting in his lap. His arms wrap low on my waist, settling right under our baby girl. My arms lace around his neck and Bentley buries his face in my side boob, and I let him be.

  “I’m going to counseling, Birdie. I will continue going to counseling because when that baby girl of ours comes, she’s going to have a healthy dad. And above that, you deserve a healthy husband forever and always.”

  I kiss the top of his head and smirk.

  “You don’t have much convincing to do with me because I’ve always known I have the best husband in the world.”

  “God, I’m a wreck,” he mumbles.

  “Enjoying that boob action?” I chuckle, kissing his head again.

  “Yeah.” He sinks his teeth into my flesh. My thick winter sweater is doing nothing, I swear I feel every part of his mouth and teeth playfully s
inking in.

  “We will get through this.” I grip the back of his neck. “Through anything.”

  “It’s what keeps me going,” he murmurs.

  I force myself to stand, adjusting my dress sweater and hiking up my thick leggings. Maternity clothes are heaven and don’t even get me started on the underwear. I’m going to need an intervention to quit wearing them after I have Hope.

  “Are you ready to go see your little girl?” I hold my hand out to Bentley.

  I’m home the minute he places his palm in my hand. We get through the doors this time with no incident. Walking down the long corridor, a medical cart crashes into the wall. The ruckus causes Bentley to jump and go on high alert. I squeeze his hand, continuing to walk like nothing happened. It takes him a few beats to calm down.

  We settle into familiar waiting room chairs after I check in. Bentley’s reaction as he takes everything in is downright comical. The expression like a fish out of water explains him perfectly.

  “Marlee Foster.”

  “It’s our turn.” The giddiness in my voice and the way I pop up out of the chair is downright ridiculous. I can’t hide it. I’ve waited days and ended up coming to terms that Bentley would never get to experience this.

  He remains in awe as the nurse weighs me and takes my vitals. I squeeze my eyes shut like I do every single time avoiding the topic of gaining weight. I may regret it later, and I deal with it then.

  Just like I expected, Bentley hits it off with Dr. Hilton the moment she walks into the room.

  “So nice to meet you, Bentley. I’ve heard nothing but good about you.”

  “Thanks.” He nods, stepping back to me after shaking her hand.

  Dr. Hilton explains the process of ultrasound. Bentley stands, hands on his hips, eyes wide with excitement soaking every single detail and even cracking a few jokes about knocking me up. I, in turn, soak it all in. It’s always surreal sitting in this room hearing Hope’s heartbeat and facing my reality. I’m going to be a mom.