by Jessie Cooke
“Shh, it’s okay. I’m sorry. You’re safe baby girl. I won’t let anybody hurt you.” That only made her cry harder. Fantastic! I finally seem to have a modicum of a chance with a girl I might really like and I stick my big damned foot in my mouth. “I’m sorry, Lizzie. Please don’t cry.”
She sobbed against me for a while. I didn’t say anything else, I just held her. When she finally stopped crying she said, “I’m sorry. I was just really scared. If you hadn’t come along when you did…”
“But I did, baby girl and you’re okay. I swear…I will never let anyone hurt you.”
I felt her relax a little bit in my arms as she said, “Thank you.”
I kissed her and breathed in the soft fragrance of her hair. It smelled like that soft hint of fragrance you get when you walk past a flower shop. It’s so subtle that you almost miss it and then suddenly your senses come alive with it. I buried my face in it and as I felt the rhythm of her breaths begin to change and I knew she was falling asleep, I closed my eyes and began to drift with her…And just before I got there she softly ran her fingers along the tattoo on the inside of my arm and said,
“She must have been someone really special.”
“Who?”
“The “baby” you were thinking of when you got this tattoo.” Part of me was actually pleased and amused that she seemed to be jealous. The other part of me had no desire to talk about it. I simply said,
“It’s not what you think.”
“I’m sorry.”
I laughed. “Stop apologizing for everything. What are you sorry for?”
“It’s none of my business.”
I propped myself back up on my elbow and said, “It’s not that at all. It’s just not easy for me to talk about.”
“Oh…I’m sorry.” I laughed and hugged her.
“Stop it. I got the tattoo about three years ago….”
“You don’t have to tell me.”
“I know. I was seeing this girl and I thought that she was the one…you know?” I felt her nod against my chest and I went on. “She was a performer for one of the Cirque de Soleil shows here in town. She did that twisty thing where they dangle her from the ceiling by a ribbon and she did all kinds of other acrobatic stuff. We hadn’t really talked about marriage or kids or anything…we were still very young…but I had it in my head that we would head in that direction someday. She was living here with me…it was before Lance moved in. I thought we were happy. Then one day…completely by accident it all fell apart.”
“Brock…It’s really okay…
I kissed her lips softly. “I know,” I told her with a smile. “I’ve started now, I may as well finish. I have to warn you it’s quite the depressing little post-coital story.” She giggled. I liked the way it sounded. “She was in the shower one morning after coming home from her doctor’s appointment. She told me that she’d gone for a physical. I wasn’t supposed to be here that day but training got cancelled. She didn’t look happy to see me. She was pale and I could tell that she was in some kind of pain. She wouldn’t tell me what was going on…so when her phone rang and I saw that it was a clinic calling, I answered it.”
“Oh no! Was she sick?”
“Um…not really, no,” I let my mind drift back to that terrible morning. The name of the clinic came up on her phone as simply, “South Las Vegas Women’s Health.”
“Hello?”
“Hello. This is Victoria. I’m a nurse with the South Las Vegas Women’s Clinic. I was looking for Maria Trejo.”
“She’s in the shower. Can I take a message?”
“Will you just please tell her that I found her wallet?”
“Sure…where was her wallet at?”
“In the lobby. A good Samaritan found it and turned it in.”
“Oh, okay. We’ll be by later to pick it up.”
I thanked her and when Maria came out of the shower I said, “The clinic called…” I didn’t get to finish. She went ballistic cussing and yelling and saying she was going to sue them for “Breach of Patient Confidentiality.” I could have just told her they didn’t tell me anything, but I had this bad feeling all of a sudden and I wasn’t ready to let it go. When she finished spewing hate towards the clinic she said,
“How pissed are you?”
I folded my arms and said, “How pissed do you think I should be?”
“I thought it was for the best, Brock…I really did. Neither of us is ready to be parents…”
“You’re pregnant?” My feeble brain had yet to comprehend what she was telling me.
“You didn’t know? She didn’t tell you?”
“No. She just called to say she found your wallet there. Are you pregnant?”
She put her hands across her belly and said, “I was. I had an abortion this morning.”
“I don’t even know how to describe what I felt at that moment. It was like I was emotionally bankrupt all of a sudden. There was nothing that could make me feel better about what she’d done…and nothing that would make me feel worse. There was just a sudden void where the hope for us used to be. I would never be able to look at her the same. She didn’t just plan on lying to me…she took something away from me that was mine and didn’t even offer me an option…” I looked at Lizzie’s face. She looked horrified and the tears were swimming in her eyes again. Jesus! If I could just screw this up a little bit more….
4
Lizzie
I felt like I’d traveled to some alternate universe. Was Brock really telling me that his ex-girlfriend had an abortion without telling him? Was it true, or some elaborate scheme to get me to admit what I was planning to do…to Lance’s baby? I’m being paranoid. There’s no way he could know…right? He heard me tell those guys I was pregnant…but I didn’t say anything about an abortion. My mother is the only one who knows about my appointment tomorrow…literally, the only other living soul besides myself. The only reason she knows is because I’d been stupid enough to go to her for advice. Fearing that she might be called upon to be a real mother…or worse in her eyes…a grandmother, the only option she was willing to champion was the abortion. She told me that a baby would “ruin my life.” Gee, thanks Mom.
“Lizzie, are you okay? I’m sorry. I don’t know why I told you all of that. It was way too much too soon.”
I tried to smile…act natural…I felt stiff and fake as I said, “I’m fine, really. I was just thinking…”
“About?”
“I just have a hard time with the way society condemns a woman for making the choice to have an abortion…” he raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t say anything. “It’s just…I don’t know for sure, but I would think that it’s something a woman would only do if she felt she had no other choices. I mean, she’s committing harm to herself…at least spiritually, that will last forever. So why would she do something so scary and so permanent…if the alternatives didn’t scare her more?”
“But she did have choices. I would have been willing to raise the baby and she knew that. My brother…Never mind.”
“No Brock, tell me, please. What about your brother?”
“He died about a year before she had the abortion. Everything about his death was devastating, but one thing that my mother kept ruminating over was the fact that right before he got sent overseas, his girlfriend had an abortion. My brother knew about it. They’d decided mutually that it was going to be the best choice for them. Then he died and the gravity of “eliminating” for lack of a better term, the one piece of him that we could have still had, hit us both. It was worse for my mother. I can’t even imagine the kind of pain that she went through when he died. I hate talking about this depressing shit. I just had the best sex of my life with a girl I very much want to have more sex with…”
I tried not to smile at that. It was an interesting way of telling someone that you liked them…or was he just working on another piece of ass?
“I’m sorry about your brother…and for what your mom went through…”<
br />
“It’s not your fault. I’m sorry for being such a downer.”
I was happy that he trusted me enough to share something so personal with me. I just wish that it didn’t hit so close to home. In an effort to change the subject I traced my fingers along the two rows of Roman numerals on his left arm and said, “What is this date?”
He sighed like it was another thing he didn’t really want to talk about…but he did. “The first one is the day my brother died…April 6, 2011. The second is the day my baby died.”
My stomach contracted violently and without warning. I got out of bed on my side and ran towards the bathroom. I know that Brock must think I’m crazy, but I didn’t have time to think about that right now. If I didn’t make it to the toilet bowl I was going to ruin his carpet and my chances of ever looking him in the eye again.
I ran inside the cool white-tiled restroom slammed the door and as soon as I leaned over the porcelain bowl my stomach contents were propelled through the air and hit the toilet in front of me with such force that it splashed back up. I was so disgusted with myself that suddenly I started crying again…and I couldn’t stop. I sank down to my knees and sobbed, naked in the floor. Jesus is this what my life has come to?
There was a soft tap on the door and then Brock’s voice, “Lizzie? Are you okay?”
My soft sobs turned into something more against my will. It was a desolate sound like it came from someone who was without hope and I had a hard time believing it came from me.
“Lizzie?” He sounded so worried. I felt so bad.
“I’m okay,” my voice was still wracked with sobs and sounded anything but okay.
“I’m coming in, okay?” Oh my God. I’m naked on the floor of his bathroom…and I’m not even drunk….
He pushed open the door and the look on his face was pure horror. I guess this will be my last adventure with Brock the Rock. “I’m sorry,” he said in a strangled voice.
I looked up at him. What was he apologizing for? “Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault. Any other time I would have been ecstatic that you trusted me enough to share your personal business with me. It’s just…I’m just…”
“I’m going to get you a robe, baby girl. You’re freezing. I’ll be right back.” Before he took the one step out the door, the crazy person inside of me that says things before I have a chance to think them over said,
“I am pregnant.” Brock froze. I don’t know how long he stood there like that. Maybe he was trying to get control of his facial expressions, or maybe he was trying to figure out what to say next…He finally turned around and looked at me. He opened his mouth and closed it again. Then he said,
“I’m going to get that robe.” He left and I felt my stomach lurch again. I concentrated on staying calm and breathed through it. I didn’t throw up again…thank God. Brock came back in with a t-shirt. He handed it to me and said, “I don’t have a robe.” For some reason that struck me as funny. I started laughing. He was looking at me like I’d officially lost my mind. Maybe I have.
BROCK
Lizzie is pregnant. That’s all she would say. I helped her up off the floor and after she rinsed her mouth and washed her face, I tried to tuck her back into my bed.
“I really need to get home,” she said. “I’m sorry about all of this.”
“Don’t be sorry. I started it. Jeez, the last thing you should be talking to a pregnant girl about is the evils of abortion. That’s my opinion because of what I’ve been through, Lizzie…but if it’s what you’re thinking about…”
She didn’t say if she was thinking about it or not. She didn’t say anything else about it. I sat on the edge of the bed and watched her get dressed. I thought about the girl I’d stayed up all night talking to last month when she brought Lance home drunk from Jacob’s. She was the first girl I ever spent all night just talking to. We didn’t talk about anything serious. It was all fun. We played video games and ate junk food and she laughed at my stupid jokes and acted like she was captivated by my embellished and egotistical stories of the fights I’d won. I knew that I wanted her that night…but she was with Lance, I thought. There was an unwritten law…a code about your buddy’s wives, girlfriends, sister’s and daughters…hands off. So I kept my hands to myself…but that didn’t stop me from enjoying the hell out of her company, and wanting more.
She finished dressing and then fished out her phone. I was pulling on my jeans when I heard her saying, “I need a cab…”
“You are not taking a cab! Hang up.”
“It’s okay…”
I took the phone out of her hand. “It’s one o’clock in the morning. I wish that you would stay…but I understand if you must go. I’m taking you to your car though. What if those creeps are still around?”
She looked frightened again. I didn’t like that look. “I didn’t think of that.”
I smiled at her, trying to lighten things up a bit and said, “I’m not just a hot body you know.”
She giggled. I was surprised at how much it did my heart good to hear it.
“Thank you.”
I gave her a jacket and made her put it on and then we got on the bike and I took her to her car. I didn’t want to. I wanted to just keep driving. I loved the feeling of having her on the back of the bike with her knees pressed up against my thighs and the warmth of her body against my back. Her arms wrapped around me and her hands pressed up against my abs…glad that she’s behind me because just that simple contact has me on the rise again. I wouldn’t want her to think I was a shameless pervert…if she didn’t already know.
When we got to the garage she slid off the bike and took off the helmet. Her hair was in disarray all around her pretty face and I thought that I’d never seen her look so sexy. “Lizzie, about tonight…”
She put her fingers to my lips. I stopped talking…mostly because that touch made my mouth go dry. “Brock, you don’t have to say it. I really enjoyed tonight before…before I got all weird…But, I’m aware of your…I mean how you are with….”
I took her hand and moved it away from my lips but I didn’t let go of it. “Women?”
“Um…yeah, that. Anyways, you don’t have to say anything. I’m not naïve…I appreciate that you ran those creeps off…and the sex was…I have no words for it. It was amazing. But I’m not expecting anything more….”
I brought her hand to my lips and kissed it. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
Her pretty, giant eyes widened even further. “You are?”
“Yeah. My um…reputation aside,” I grinned. “I was hoping for more…a lot more.”
“Why?”
I laughed. “Why? Have you ever seen you? Besides that, I like you. The night that we spent hanging out when Lance was drunk…I want to have another night like that. And tonight…I want to have at least a hundred…maybe a thousand more of those.”
“I cried.”
“I told you sad stories.”
“I threw up. I’m pregnant.”
Trying to control my amusement at her trying to talk me out of liking her I said, “I’ve thrown up before and we’ve established that you’re pregnant. I don’t care on either count.”
“I’ve slept around…”
“So have I.”
She laughed and said, “Most men don’t see it as the same thing. They call me…names.”
“I’m not most men, and they better not ever call you names in front of me.”
She had tears in her eyes again. “I’m going to have an abortion tomorrow.”
I let her words take root at the same time feeling like someone stuck a knife into my chest. It was crazy. It’s not my baby. I ran my hand through her pretty hair and pulled her head into my chest. I was dead set against abortion…but it wasn’t my body and it wasn’t my baby and it didn’t change my opinion of her in the least. I put my hands on the sides of her face and tilted it up towards mine. My chest ached at the obvious misery in her eyes.
“Are you going alone?”
“Yes.”
“What time?”
“Brock, you don’t have to…”
“I know.” I leaned down and let my lips run across hers. She responded with a little sound that escaped from her throat. “You don’t get it, do you?”
“Get what?”
“This wasn’t a one night stand to me, Lizzie. I want more…” I ran my lips across hers again. I could feel her body shaking against mine. “I want so much more.”
“But…you’re right. I don’t get it. You could have any girl, a non-pregnant one…on any given night of the week…”
“I don’t want any girl. I want you.”
“And when I walk out of that abortion clinic tomorrow?”
“I’ll still want you.” She was looking at me like she still didn’t get it. I slid my hands down to that gorgeous ass and used it to pull her up on her toes. She rested her small hands against my chest and I could feel the warmth of them through my shirt. This time she was the one to drag her lips across mine. I opened my mouth and she let her tongue run along my lower lip, sending a chill right through me. I let my hands wrap up in that amazing hair and I covered her lips with mine and thrust my tongue into her mouth. I felt a groan rumble between us and I wasn’t sure if it came from her or me. I pinned her back against the side of her car and ground my hips into her belly. I made sure the kiss was possessive…I didn’t want her to leave, but when she did, I wanted her to do it with that kiss on her mind. I don’t know how long we kissed like that, but when I pulled back, she was completely breathless and her cheeks were pink and she was shaking again. Exactly what I was going for. “What time baby girl?”
“Eight,” she breathed out.
“I’ll pick you up at seven-thirty. Drive safe going home.” She nodded, still looking like she was having a hard time breathing. I watched her get into the car and I waited until she’d driven out of the garage before I went home and tried to wrap my head around what I was feeling…and how I was going to feel tomorrow. I did a lot of things out of character tonight. I have no idea why I shared so much with her. I completely over-disclosed. Only Lance and Jacob and my mother know most of these things about me…why I suddenly felt compelled to share them all with Lizzie I have no idea.
