The Flight of Hope

by HJ Bellus

  “Is he okay?" Martha asks.

  I shrug, not really knowing how to answer the question.

  “Do you think he’ll feel like eating tonight?”

  “We can always try.”

  The other night Jed wanted a chocolate milkshake so bad that he didn’t give up until his mom walked over to the store after hours and bought the ingredients to make one. It’s the first thing I’ve seen the man slurp down without taking hours to eat. However, it was only ten minutes before he was relentlessly throwing up. He still claims it was worth every single swallow.

  “Are you feeling okay, Marlee?”

  I glance over to Martha with a quizzical look on my face. “Bit more tired than usual, but I haven’t been sleeping all too well at night. When Jed has a coughing fit it takes me hours to fall back to sleep, but nothing other than that.”

  She shakes her head, nibbles on her bottom lip, and goes back to stirring whatever is in her mixing bowl.

  “What?”

  Martha shakes her head one more time before speaking. “It’s really not my position to say.”

  I set the knife down, more intrigued than ever. “Martha, say what you’re thinking. You’re really confusing me.”

  Martha sets her cooking utensils down and begins talking. “Well, like I said it’s none of my business but, Marlee, is there any chance you could be pregnant?”

  My head snaps back, and I have no idea how to respond to that. Pregnant. What in the hell? This came out of the blue. Out of left field and I’m left speechless.

  Martha takes a step toward me and clutches my hands in hers. “Call it a mother’s intuition or a woman’s intuition whatever, but, Marlee, you have been more tired than usual, I noticed the other morning when you raced to the bathroom after breakfast and heard you throwing up, and pregnant women always have a glow and I can spot it a mile away. You have the glow.”

  It all slaps me in the face. Rushes at me like a pissed off bull chasing a matador with the red cloth.

  “I did race to the bathroom the other morning after breakfast. The scrambled eggs didn’t settle well on my stomach. I’ve always been finicky about eggs.”

  My voice shakes with each word, trying to find some sense in whatever in the hell is happening.

  “Marlee, you’ve been tired, but I know you’re going to come back with me that you’ve not been sleeping very well because of Jed which is true. But that glow never lies.”

  I slap my palms over my mouth in shock, utter shock. I’m pregnant. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that Martha is right. I am pregnant.

  “How in the hell did I not pick up on any of the signs?” The words fall from my lips in a whisper.

  “Because you’ve had a lot on your mind, sweetie.”

  My period. My period. When was the last time? I had light bleeding. But how many months ago was that?

  My whole body begins to quiver with excitement, fear, and trepidation all mixed in until it leaves me confused. Gobsmacked straight in the face.

  “Okay, one thing at a time. You finish up those potatoes and get them in the boiling water. Dip the steaks in the egg mixture then the breading over there. I’ll be right back with a pregnancy test from the store.” Martha turns her back on me, almost to the door before I can stop her.

  “Martha.” She whips around to face me. “Martha…uh.” I fumble with my words and the utensils in my hands.

  She nods her head and smiles. “I got you, Marlee.”

  With those simple words, she’s out of the door faster than I can blink. She knows exactly what I was referring to. After spilling all of my darkest fears to her in the waiting room at the hospital, we’ve had several conversations about my past. Martha has been the biggest advocate in my corner. She pushes and nudges me to call my parents on a weekly basis. It doesn’t take much. The desire is there; it’s just facing what I did to them.

  With each slice of the russet potato, I struggle to face the truth. I am pregnant. I fought so damn hard in the past to get pregnant and lost it all in the blink of an eye. That one wound that’s been buried for a long time, and I never ever thought I’d feel its wrath again. Yet, here I stand peeling potatoes and knowing it’s happening all over again.

  I have everything up to speed on dinner before Martha returns. She ushers me to the bathroom before I can protest. Hell, I don’t want to make a scene with Caleb near then it would all turn into a spectacle, and that’s the last thing I want.

  Martha pushes me into the bathroom before she has the chance to shut the door as Maddie did so many years ago. I try to talk, but it only comes out in a whisper. “Don’t be mad at me, but I’d like to tell Jed the results first either way.”

  “That’s okay with me, because I already know you’re knocked up with my grandchild.” She winks at me and turns on her heels. Confident with each step as she strides away.

  I swear her and Caleb are too much alike. It’s eerie how perfect of a combination the Bryant brothers are. They are a subtle mix of both their mom and dad. I shake my head and go about my business. I know the routine all too well. After checking the instructions to determine two lines mean pregnant, I piss away on the stick, not feeling the pressure to be with child like I was before. Washing my hands after laying the stick flat on the counter it dawns on me…I knew my days were numbered all along with Bentley and that’s what the rush was for.

  It’s a bittersweet realization. I no longer yearn for the what-ifs, yet finding myself cherishing the memories. Jed has always encouraged me to talk about Bentley, and I have over the last four weeks. The two men would’ve gotten along great. No doubt.

  I think about Maddie and my parents as I wait. I know it’s time to make the call, inviting them out here. There have been weekly calls to them since the first one made in this very cabin. Martha and Jed with their gentle nudges wouldn’t have it any other way.

  There’s been an open line of communication with Maddie. Nothing profound, only skimming the surface of topics, but it’s the point that I’m talking to them. Sara and Fender have shared a few FaceTime sessions. To say my parents were dumbfounded and quieted when I introduced them to Jed would be an understatement. But it only took them a few minutes to adjust and warm up to him. They not only demand weekly calls from me but daily updates via email about Jed and his process. The bond between my mother and I has grown by leaps and bounds. It’s as if a day hasn’t passed that we’ve been separated.

  Full circle. I ventured a full circle in my short span as I stare down at the test. I snatch it off the counter and go to our room. Fender’s long gone and sitting at the dining room table eating dinner. Jed is on his side in the bed. His eyes flicker open when I walk in. There’s no smile playing out on his lips, but a dim light flickers in his whiskey-colored eyes that I love with no bounds.

  “You hungry?” I ask, rounding the bottom of the bed and crawling in behind him.

  He’s the little spoon, and I’m the big one. It's my favorite position because I get to hold him.

  “No.” His voice still down and glum.

  “Guess what?”

  “What?”

  “I found another reason.”

  When he gets in his dark moods, I count off the reasons why he’ll beat cancer. We are up to two hundred seventy-five.

  “What’s that?” He turns his head enough so I can peck him on the cheek.

  “Reason two hundred seventy-six.” I pass over the pregnancy test until his trembling hand takes it.

  I grab his hand to steady it, knowing his body is fighting him right now.

  “Is this…”

  “A pregnancy test,” I answer.

  “And.”

  “There are two lines.”

  “And?”

  I don’t miss the hope painting his one-worded question.

  “I’m pregnant.”

  Jed rolls over, his body protesting every move. It’s not smooth like it used to be, but he manages.

  “Reason two hundred seventy-six.” He clu
tches the pregnancy test, studying the clear window indicator. “But we haven’t…since before my surgery.”

  “I know.” I trail my finger down his nose. “Making it a big and very serious reason.”

  “Are you okay? Is this uh…freaking you out?”

  Of course, he’d be scared and worried for me. It’s who Jed Bryant is.

  “Nope. I’m a girl who got diamonds, a son, learned I’m going to have a baby with the man I’m spending the rest of my life with all in one day. What’s to worry about?”

  “You amaze me.” Jed snaps his eyes shut with a huge grin plastered across his face.

  It’s a perfect ending to a day in the middle of a never-ending storm.

  34

  “I have found that if you love life, life will love you back.”

  -Arthur Rubinstein

  Light kisses trail up my spine. A large palm glides onto my baby bump until it’s soothing circles. It hypnotizes and coaxes me to go back to sleep.

  “Sleep,” I mutter.

  Those sweet kisses make their way all the up to the nape of my neck. Even through sleep I crane my neck loving the feel of his lips on my skin.

  “Time to wake up,” Jed murmurs, flexing his hips into my backside.

  “Sleep,” I argue right back.

  “We have exactly nine minutes before Fender comes busting in.” One more hip thrust. His hard, aching length is pushing into me.

  I roll over, wiping the sleep from my eyes. My hands go to my seven-month pregnant belly. Our little one rolls, kicks, and sends elbow jabs non-stop.

  “There’s my gorgeous woman.” Jed kisses my cheek.

  I roll my eyes, earning myself a slap to my thigh. It does the trick. I want Jed and know we are on a strict time window. He hasn’t kept his hands off my belly since the night I told him I was pregnant. With each touch and caress, my excitement builds to a boiling point.

  I rake my hands through his thick, glossy black hair. Once treatments stopped, Jed’s hair grew in with a vengeance. Each day that passed, the strong, healthy man made an appearance. He’s devoured each minute back at his healthy state. You can’t keep the man down. Jed sings every single day to us and has the foundation finished to our cabin. It’s nestled on the edge of the river in a grove of pine trees.

  “Seven minutes,” I whisper into his lips. “You better hustle up, Mr. Bryant.”

  He follows my command, grabbing my hips, and rolling me up on him. My thighs straddle his waist. I stare down at him. His healthy glow is lighting up the room accompanied by the rising sun. I stare at him all the damn time never able to soak up enough of his gorgeous as hell features.

  Jed reaches down between us, pulling his hard length from his boxers and quirks an eyebrow up, encouraging me to get to it. There’s no sexy ripping of the panties from my body. Pregnancy doesn’t indulge any of that.

  Jed reaches down, wrapping his rugged hands around each ankle, pulling them forward. He’s gentle and precise as he drags down my panties. I may be on top in the dominant position, but I’m in no way in control of any of it. Jed always is. He takes care of me with gentle, loving hands that are always encouraging me to be brave and live. He doesn’t let one second of the day go by without that subtle nudge. He’s stared death straight in the eyes and never backed down.

  His fingertips dig into my flesh, pulling me up enough only to guide me down on him. I throw my head back, snapping my eyes shut. It never gets old and takes over every single one of my sensations. Jed drives into me, pushing his hips up from underneath me. It’s been on since day one of him feeling well. We make jokes about not worrying about protection since he already got the job done.

  “Jed.” I dig my nails into his chest.

  He answers with a deep growl and faster thrusting of his hips from underneath me. He moves one hand from my hips to my core. It takes only a few slow circles in the right spot before I’m falling hard.

  “I’m close. So damn close,” I moan.

  Jed catches his bottom lip with his teeth. The tender skin is glowing white from the pressure, letting me know he’s right with me. My nails dig in his chest and I do my best to stifle my cries of pleasure. Jed growls low and deep, letting go inside of me.

  “That was the best ever,” I say between panting breaths.

  Jed sits up, guiding my legs around his waist and pulls our chests together. I collapse in his hold. All of my muscles are deliciously sated. I could stay here all day letting him hold me.

  “Shower,” he murmurs into my neck.

  “Fender,” I mumble.

  “Two minutes.” He clutches my ass in his large palms.

  Then I’m up in the air, moving toward the bathroom, I lock my ankles together right above the globes of his ass.

  “How many times have I told you I’m too big for you to pack around?”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  I feel him shrug. Jed reaches into the shower, firing it to life. He never lets me go until steam billows from the top of the glass shower stall. Once under the hot, refreshing water, he presses my back against the chilled tiled wall. He begins to move against me.

  “Again?” I quirk an eyebrow, staring into his deep chocolate eyes.

  “And again and again.”

  Jed makes good on his promise, making love to me one more time and then washing every inch of my skin. He runs his fingers over my scalp, massaging the shampoo and conditioner in.

  “The perfect morning.” I push up on my toes and kiss Jed on his full, sexy bowtie lips.

  I see his desires painted on each of his features. He wants more. We have no self-control and always on a strict time window when it comes to adult alone time.

  “Every minute with you, Marlee, is perfect.” He repeats the tender kiss. “I’m forcing myself to step away right now and dry off even though I want nothing more than to toss your naked, beautiful ass back in our bed.”

  I stay under the hot spray, not taking my gaze off of Jed as he dries off with a plush, navy blue towel. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes with each flex of his new, defined muscles. He’s been diligent in his recovery spiritually, mentally, and physically, dedicating every second to coming back stronger for his family. I groan when he slips into a loose pair of sleek black workout pants. They hang low on his hips, taunting the hell out of me.

  I’ve heard about the amped up sex drive while being pregnant. But that’s only a part of our problem. When Jed was sick, there was no sex. And now we are worse than two teenage kids.

  Jed sends me a quick wink before opening the bathroom door and stepping into our bedroom. It seems he has perfect timing.

  “Daddy!” Fender’s sleepy yet excited voice floats into the bathroom.

  I hear the sounds of Jed flopping back on the bed and know Fender is climbing right up to cuddle with his dad. Their morning cuddles always turn into wrestling matches. Some mornings Martha and Caleb join in and that’s when it gets wild. On those mornings, I sneak out with Luke on the porch and enjoy coffee. There’s something about sitting in silence and drinking coffee with the Bryant men. It’s the best kind of therapy out there.

  I grunt, bending over to smooth out coconut oil over my legs. This belly. I smile like a fool every single time it gets in the way, which is more and more often. Jed treated this pregnancy like precious glass in the beginning until I told him he was making it worse. My nerves were close to fraying between his constant worrying and shitty chemo days. I’m suspecting Martha sat down and talked with him because now I’m just the exhausted, hungry pregnant woman.

  I toe open the door while pulling my wet locks up into a messy bun on the top of my head. Fender is sprawled out on Jed’s chest, running the pad of his fingers over Jed’s stubble.

  “Daddy’s beard is coming nice, eh?” I lean over and kiss the top of Fender’s head.

  Jed gets a quick ass grab in before I sit on the edge of the bed.

  “I want one.” Fender beams at his dad.

  “In time, son.” Jed p
ats Fender’s back.

  “No, now. Banky told me I need to drink black coffee and shave my face.”

  “No!” we both holler in unison.

  Jed gains his bearings before I do and begins reasoning with Fender, explaining to him you have to be a certain age to grow a beard. I take it upon myself to waltz right back into the bathroom and put Jed’s shaving kit up on the top shelf of our vanity. Fender is doing a bang up job of breaking me in for motherhood.

  “Banky said you aren’t growing a beard because you lost the bet with Marwee, but because women like bouncing on beards.” Fender tilts his head, tapping his chin. “That still confuses me.”

  I bite down on the side of my cheek, holding back my laughter. Only Caleb. I swear he lives to put Jed through hell and put him through hell he does.

  “Caleb is an idiot.” Jed flips Fender on his back and begins tickling him.

  Fender squeals but does his best to get out of Jed’s hold. And it’s one of those mornings where Martha and Caleb join the mini-wrestling match. A painful yip from Caleb wraps around me as I pour my decaffeinated coffee into my mug. The same mug I’ve drank out of every single day since I left my shattered world behind. Jed had a new one made since Bentley’s picture is beginning to fade on this one. I left it in the box until the day comes I need to bust it out.

  “Wrestling match?” Luke rocks back and forth in his chair.

  Before I have the chance to answer, roaring and squealing comes from inside the cabin. I consider it answer enough for his question. I settle in the chair and cup the mug, bringing it close to my lips. Luke places his palm on my belly, splaying his fingers wide. Popper begins kicking and fluttering about, making her or his soon to be Grandpa chuckle. Popper does it every single time.

  “Popper says good morning.” I smile over at Luke.

  “Your Papa is excited to meet you, little one,” Luke replies.

  He keeps his hand on my belly while continuing to rock and drink his coffee. Popper settles down, only giving her grandpa a few kicks. Fender somehow connected popcorn chicken to his sibling growing in my stomach, hence the nickname Popper. I fear the little one may never kick the nickname.