Anxious Hearts

by Felicia Tatum

  Once back in the room, the nurse reappeared and informed me she was taking me to OB for an ultrasound and to see a baby doctor. I lay back on the bed as she wheeled me out and down the maze of a hallway. I was about to see my child, possibly hear it, and find out if I’d damaged it in anyway. I wasn’t sure what was coming over me, but a fierce protectiveness and need for its safety was consuming me.

  I, Daphne Waterman, was going to be a mother.

  “Here we are,” she said as she turned the bed awkwardly through the doors. How these people memorized this place was beyond me. She settled me in a room with a machine, a screen, and a woman waiting. “I’ll come back for you when you’re done.”

  I nodded. Nerves were taking over. My hands shook, my insides twisted, and my heart was ready to burst through my chest. The technician looked over, smiling warmly, and pulled out a tube of gel.

  “How are you?”

  “A nervous wreck,” I admitted. I didn’t know her, it didn’t matter what she thought.

  Chuckling, she flipped a switch and the machine hummed to life. “Is this your first baby?”

  I nodded. “Mmhmm.”

  She covered my legs with the blanket and pulled up my gown, revealing my stomach. My flat stomach that would soon be expanded and stretched. Would I have marks? Would I care once I met the baby? When would I find out what it is? What if there’s more than one?

  “This will be cold,” she warned seconds before squirting a chilly liquid all over my abdomen.

  I sucked in a breath, shocked at how cold it really was. Even with the warning, I wasn’t expecting it to be that surprising to my body. I didn’t have long to worry about it, though, because she placed the wand on my stomach and began moving it in circles. Soon, an image appeared on the screen, showing a bunch of black and white blurred splotches. The woman smiled, settling on a spot barely below my belly button, and turned to me.

  “Do you know where the baby is?”

  Shaking my head, I looked from her to the screen. She pointed a finger, showing me a cashew looking shape that was pulsating. I didn’t know, but I knew. It was my baby.

  “There it is. Do you want to hear it?” she asked.

  The tears were welling in my eyes as I nodded. Emotions were elusive to me, something I hadn’t had in so long while battling my depression, but seeing my developing kiddo, everything changed.

  Everything.

  She turned a knob on the side and the sound of horse hooves filled the room. Bump, bump, bump. It was a continuous sound like heaven to my ears. The heartbeat of my child was unlike anything I’d ever heard, the most beautiful sound in the world, and the tears fell freely. “Is it ok?” I questioned.

  She paused, looking over at me. “It seems to be, but I can’t really tell you that for certain. I’m taking the measurements for the doctor to look at and she’ll tell you everything for sure.”

  Confused, I asked, “Why can’t you tell me?”

  Grinning widely, she replied, “I’m not a doctor.”

  I laughed at the silliness of it, but I supposed I understood. She allowed me to watch the screen for a few more minutes before turning it off and cleaning my stomach, then wheeled me to another room in what I assumed was the OB ward.

  A new nurse soon came in, bright and cheerful as she spoke to me about what all had happened and verifying all my information. The doctor soon arrived, and we discussed the ultrasound.

  “Hello, Daphne, I’m Dr. Kennedy,” she said, reaching out to shake my hand.

  “Nice to meet you,” I replied.

  She nodded, then got down to business. “I see you recently had a fall, have you had any bleeding?”

  Shaking my head, I explained the situation and how I’d only found out I was pregnant a few moments before. Voicing my concerns was easier than I expected, especially revealing my depression history and the medication I was on. My unborn child was an innocent, someone I must protect in any way possible, even if that meant I had to deal with my demons without assistance.

  “I understand your concerns. I’ll have to look up the medication to be sure, but I don’t think it’s safe for the baby. I want you to stop it immediately, and you need to find an OB to go to regularly,” she explained. “It’s not safe for your mental stability to go off medication like this, but for the sake of the baby, it’s needed. I want you to find an office and make an appointment for this week. Do you see a therapist?”

  I nodded. “Monthly.”

  “You’ll need to call and make weekly appointments there, if not more often, immediately.”

  Sighing, I nodded again. My head was swimming with thoughts and worries, but I could do this. I had to do this. My little musician depended on me to keep him safe. “Ok. Do you work here all the time?” I asked. I felt comfortable with her, more comfortable than I had any other doctor in a while.

  “No, I don’t. I actually have an office about three blocks from here.”

  “Could I come to you?” I asked. My tone was insecure and quiet, so unlike me.

  “Of course!” she exclaimed. “Let me get you my office information.”

  Left by myself, I lost myself in the thoughts of my baby, whom I kept referring to as he in my mind. Would I be a good mother? Would childbirth hurt? Of course it would hurt, but how badly?

  Would I ever see his father again?

  Dr. Kennedy returned, handing over a card and some papers. “I brought these. They’re about pregnancy and a few things you should avoid. I’ve also included a list of medications that are ok for you to take, it’s not long, and a prescription for a prenatal vitamin. You need to start taking these every single day.”

  “Ok,” I agreed. “What about my foot?”

  “I called Cathleen to come get you. They have your MRI results, so as soon as they tell you what to do for it, you’re free to go.”

  I thanked her profusely, leaning back to rest my eyes as soon as she left. In a matter of minutes, it seemed, my life had changed drastically forever. No part of me would ever be the same. The darkness that consumed me was fighting to take control, but I refused to let it. I must find a way to fight it, to conquer it.

  Cathleen arrived, wheeling me back to the original room, and Dr. McLaughlin was waiting. Shocking.

  “Daphne, I heard everything was ok so far,” she grinned.

  “Yeah, now if my foot is ok, then this will be a successful trip,” I joked.

  “It is ok,” she responded. “You have a bad sprain, so I want you to ice it, rest it, and elevate. I’m sure Dr. Kennedy told you no medications, but Tylenol is ok, so I’m prescribing some Tylenol 3’s for you. They’re a stronger version of the over the counter ones you can buy.”

  “And they’re safe?” I felt like I’d asked this question nine hundred times since I’d found out.

  She nodded. “Perfectly safe.”

  Relief flooded me and she instructed Cathleen to bring me discharge papers. I hobbled around as I dressed, careful to not fall again. Protecting this baby was my number one priority.

  As I was wheeled out to my car, I couldn’t help but wonder how in the hell I was going to announce this to my loved ones.

  Zander

  Finding my father was harder than finding Waldo. None of his previous addresses or numbers were current, and no one seemed to know where he’d disappeared to. Neighbors didn’t seem to know who he was at all, and all of his close family, parents and siblings, had already passed away. It seemed we were out of luck when it came to dear old dad and we must find another option. Finally, Zarina and I decided to ask Grammy, though we knew she wouldn’t be happy. She hadn’t liked our father much since he hadn’t fought for us or even tried to see us.

  Every Saturday I took Grammy out for lunch. Only this time, I was surprising her with Zarina as well. I knew she’d be elated. She consistently asked about her, wondering how she was and what she was doing, so I knew seeing her would relieve her worries and excite her.

  Zarina wasn’t saying much about anythi
ng since yesterday afternoon, refusing to give me a definite answer about staying. I knew I’d convince her somehow, but it had to be soon. The thought of her going back to that shithole was terrifying.

  “You ready to surprise Grammy?” I asked as I finished cleaning up the breakfast mess. I liked cleanliness, something my sister obviously didn’t reciprocate, and her messy nature was driving me mad.

  And it hadn’t even been twenty-four hours.

  Smiling, she pulled her hair back and nodded. “Yeah, I’ve missed her. You gonna tell her about the fight with mom?”

  I’d thought about it, but wasn’t sure it was the best idea. She was already in her late seventies, and as much as she supported me, hearing her daughter was truly a bitch probably wasn’t the best thing for her. “I dunno.”

  “I don’t think it’s the best idea. Just tell her you said something about Dad, pissed her off, and she blurted about our sister.” She sashayed away, grabbing her bag and sunglasses from the chair she threw them in the night before. “Let’s go,” she called as she flung the door open and walked out.

  How did she manage to survive? She didn’t seem to watch what she was doing, didn’t be careful, didn’t clean up after herself. Who was this woman and where was the sister I was raised with? She’d gotten every trait I hadn’t, the complete opposite of me. As much as I loved her, she drove me insane.

  Cleaning her trail of a mess, I followed behind her, locking up as I left. My current apartment was a fifteen minute drive from Grammy’s, but the new building I was purchasing would be less than five minutes. I couldn’t wait to fill her in.

  When we arrived, Grammy squealed in delight at the sight of Zarina, grabbing her closely for a hug and asking a million questions about her life. Sitting back, I locked my hands behind my head and waited for their girl talk to end. It was nice, having the two most important women in my life chatting away and smiling so widely. Deciding in that moment I wouldn’t tell Grammy about Mom’s visit, I thought of how to reveal our new sister without giving it away.

  “Zandy?” Grammy said, smiling sweetly. “Did you hear me?”

  Shaking my head, I grinned. “Nope. You caught me day dreaming again. What’s going on?”

  “I asked if you were ready to go eat,” she said with a giggle. “We gals are hungry!”

  Chuckling, I stood, offering my elbow to her. “Then we shall feed you gals.”

  The drive to Knoxville was longer than expected due to traffic, so it gave me the perfect opportunity to bring up the sister situation and ask for Grammy’s advice.

  “So, Grammy, I talked to Mom the other day.” Talking didn’t specify I saw her, nor did it signify a fight.

  “Oh?” she said, shifting in the seat beside me.

  I looked in the rearview mirror, seeing Zarina nod her head at me to continue. “She told me something about Dad. She wasn’t happy, so I don’t know if I should believe her.”

  “What was it?” she questioned, her tone laced with concern.

  “She said he had another child and that’s why she left him. Do you know anything about it?” I prayed she didn’t. I wasn’t sure if I could handle knowing she knew and kept it from us. Glancing over, the expression on her face confirmed she was as in the dark as we were.

  “Another child? When did this supposedly happen?” she quizzed.

  Shrugging, I said, “I don’t know. She hates talking about Dad, you know that, and blurted out he had another child and that triggered her leaving. All she said was it was a girl. We don’t know how old she is, or her name, or anything. I want to know, though, but I don’t know how to find Dad. Do you have any ideas?”

  “Zandy,” she sighed. “You came into a lot of money recently. Why don’t you hire a private investigator? You won’t even have to see your dad if you don’t want to, you can just find your sister.”

  A private investigator. Why hadn’t I thought of that? “I hate using that money,” I stated.

  She reached over, patting my arm at the elbow. “I know. And I understand, but it’s yours, so you might as well use it for something like this.”

  As much as I hated it, she was right. The money fell in my lap. I’d done nothing wrong, and while I despised having it, it was mine. I could give it away to charity, but wouldn’t using it for helping my friends or finding my sister be a better use?

  Lunch with Grammy was nice, as always, and I left Zarina with her afterwards to continue catching up. The day was still young, and finding a private investigator was my top priority. I called Francesca, hoping she had some sort of inkling on where I should start on finding someone.

  “Hello?”

  “Francesca, I need your help,” I said. Our friendship was beyond pleasantries.

  “What is it?” she said, her tone elevating with worry.

  “I need to hire a private investigator.”

  “A what?” she asked. Her words were slow and drawn out.

  “A private investigator…listen, it’s a really long story,” I said, hoping she understood I would explain later.

  “Come over, we’ll help you.”

  “You aren’t busy?” I hated asking for help, but if anyone could help, it would be her. She’d done this for her clients before, needing to investigate a company’s hiring manager once.

  “No, come on,” she said. I could hear her smile through the phone.

  “Be right there,” I said, clicking end.

  Francesca and Cade’s home wasn’t far from the office, but really, in this town, nothing was far. Turning down three streets was all it took for me to arrive, to see them on the porch talking and laughing with each other. I remembered the day Francesca came to work after seeing Cade for the first time in however many years it had been, the paleness of her skin, the shaking in her voice. She’d depended on my support, talking out her feelings as they grew.

  I loved that about male/female friendships. Both sexes were utterly dumbfounded by the other, so having someone to confide in that understood, who could give another perspective, was refreshing. I knew if the situation ever arose, she would do the same for me.

  Jumping out of the car, I let the door slam behind me as I jogged up her walk. “Hey!” I called out in greeting.

  “Hey, man,” Cade called back.

  They both stood, Francesca smiling widely as she leaned on the rail. “What’s going on, Z?” she quizzed.

  “I have a sister,” I stated.

  “I know,” she said with a raised brow. “That isn’t news.”

  “No,” I said shaking my head. “I have another one. One I only found out about yesterday afternoon.”

  Her mouth fell open as she glanced at Cade, then back to me. “Seriously?”

  I nodded. “Yes, my mother, the grand woman she is, blurted it out after telling me opening a music shop was beneath me.”

  “Oh, Z,” Francesca said, reaching out and gently squeezing my upper arm. “I’m sorry.”

  I shrugged. “It’s how she is. I want to find my sister though, and my dad is MIA.”

  “You’ve checked everything you know about him?”

  “Yeah,” I stated. “He’s disappeared. I’m not sure I want to find him, anyway.”

  “Well, the guy I used for the PI work with the Lane case was pricey, but he got the job done.”

  “Do you have his info?”

  “Yeah, let me get it,” she said as she disappeared through the door. “You want anything to drink?” I heard her voice from inside.

  “No, I’m fine,” I answered.

  Cade offered me a seat on their swing, but I declined, resting against the railing instead.

  “Intense,” he said, rocking the swing a few times.

  “No kidding,” I agreed. “Can’t believe my mother didn’t tell us.”

  “Pretty shitty,” he said with a nod. “Parents screw up, though. Everyone does.”

  Cade and his father had a rocky relationship according to Francesca and it was slowly mending. I knew all about rough relatio
nships with parents, so I felt for him. “I know, but this is a big deal.”

  Francesca reappeared, handing me a piece of paper scribbled with a name, phone number, and email. “What if she doesn’t want to talk to you?”

  I hadn’t even thought of that. “Why wouldn’t she?”

  Shrugging, she sat beside Cade, taking his hand in hers. “You never know with people, Z. Maybe she doesn’t want anything to do with her father or anyone related to him. Maybe she does. You won’t know until you find her.”

  “He didn’t help raise her. According to Mom, he only sent money for her. I’m shocked he did that much, honestly,” I admitted.

  “There’s a real possibility she’s not going to welcome you,” Francesca said sadly. “Be cautious, Z. Did you tell your other sister?”

  “Yeah,” I told her with a nod. “I went to Knoxville and dragged her ass out of a building that should be condemned and away from a boyfriend who needed to be in jail. She’s with my grandma now.”

  “Jail?” Cade questioned with brow raised.

  “Well, maybe not jail, but the roommate smelled and looked like a thug. I didn’t meet the boyfriend because I got her out of there before he got back.”

  He laughed. “So you want him jailed for messing with your sister?”

  Grinning, I said, “Pretty much.”

  He reached for a fist bump, and the three of us laughed at my protectiveness. After some mild chit-chat and banter, I bid them goodbye and went after Zarina. Her visit would wear Grammy out and I wanted her to be able to rest if she needed to.

  Yesterday, my mother attempted to shatter my world by revealing my father’s infidelity, hoping it would spur more hatred for him and less for her. She was wrong, though, because it was equal at this point. Her actions, and lack thereof, spoke volumes of her character, showing me how truly selfish she actual was. Before, I despised her love of money, but now, it ran deeper. She was a horrible mother, hiding something so important from her children when we were old enough to know the truth when she found out. She hadn’t done it to protect us, only for her own egotistical reasons.