by Elle Casey
“What in the sam hill is going on here?” A mostly bald man with a manager’s uniform and name-tag is standing at the end of the aisle, glaring at us and waiting for an answer to his question. There are two really greasy clumps of hair trying to do the job of covering his shiny dome-like bald spot, and I’m suddenly possessed by the need to cut them off. I search the aisle for a pair of scissors as I lower the box of pads down to my waist.
Colin interrupts my search when he points at me with a box of panty-liners. “She’s pregnant.”
The manager puts his hands on his hips. “I can see that. What it doesn’t explain, however, is why suddenly all of these feminine products are on the floor.”
I start giggling. It’s not pretty when my laughter turns quickly into snorts. The potbelly pig is baaaack.
“What’s so funny?” the man asks me, his volume going up.
“You said feminine products.” I don’t know why, but this is hysterical to me. I hold my stomach, afraid I’m going to pull something or possibly pee my pants.
“See? She’s pregnant,” Colin says. “Explains everything.” He starts shoving boxes anywhere on the shelf he can find an empty space. “I’ll just clean this up real quick and then we’ll go.”
“You’re darn right you will.” The manager shakes a ballpoint pen at us. “You’re lucky I don’t call law enforcement.”
“Law enforcement.” I’m giggling even harder now. This guy is so serious. Quin says I have a stick up my butt, but she needs to meet Mr. I’m-Going-To-Call-Law-Enforcement. He makes me look as laid back as her and Teagan.
“I don’t see what’s so funny about getting arrested,” he continues. He gestures at my belly. “I’m surprised you do, seeing as how you’re a mother.”
That douses my humor like nothing else could. My smile turns upside down and I’m ready to kick him. “I’m not a mother,” I say, deciding a kick isn’t quite enough for this butthead. I really want to scratch him right now, but I’ve bitten off all my fingernails in the last few months, leaving me with just nubs.
“Sure looks to me like you are. And what a fine mother you’ll make, too.” He sneers. “Maybe by the time your kid is two years old he can be pick-pocketing tourists with you on the street corner.”
Colin has to hold me back from nubbing the guy’s face off.
“Okay, settle down, wild woman,” Colin says, pushing me backwards, towards the front of the aisle. He doesn’t sound mad or freaked out about being pelted with pads anymore. He actually sounds happy.
“You haven’t finished cleaning this up!” the manager says, pointing at the last remaining boxes of pads on the floor.
“Pick it up yourself, comb-over,” Colin says over his shoulder.
“Yeah! Pick it up yourself, comb-over!” I yell. My voice echoes all over the store and I totally do not care.
I turn around and walk with Colin, moving as fast as my legs will take me without actually running. It’s possible there’s serious waddling involved. “You told him,” I say under my breath.
“Damn straight we did.”
I can’t stop grinning. “You’re my hero.”
He lets out a huff of air. “Trust me. I ain’t nobody’s hero.”
I don’t argue, even though I know he’s wrong.
We get to the parking lot and into the car. Once the doors are shut, we sit there, the silence folding in around us. I’m starting to feel like we’re Bonnie and Clyde. The worst part is, I don’t know whether to feel ashamed or proud. I’m so confused right now.
“So,” Colin says finally, looking over at me.
“So,” I say back, meeting his stare without flinching.
“I guess we still need to go shopping.”
“Better not go back to Teagan without tampons,” I warn.
He’s biting the inside of his cheek, I think to keep from smiling. “Can I trust you to behave yourself in the next store?” he asks.
“Probably not,” I say, turning to look out the front window. My chin goes up just the slightest bit. I feel completely reckless and wild, and I love it. For the first time in months, I feel alive.
“Good,” he says, starting up the car and reversing out of the space. “Behaving is boring.”
CHAPTER THREE
ALL THE EXCITEMENT GENERATED BY my tampon attack has left me exhausted. By the time we get to the second grocery store, I’m too tired to even shop. I give Colin the best description I can of the type of tampons he should get for Teagan and nap in the car, and surprisingly, he gives me no argument about having to make the purchase alone. When I wake up, we’re at Rebel Wheels again. My elated mood has completely deflated into nothing. I’m back to being a gray-girl, living in a numb state.
I climb out of the car with regret in my heart. I really don’t want to go back inside this place. Now that I’ve had a taste of the real world again and uprooted myself from the couch, I’m almost regretting my hibernation plan. Too bad my energy levels are more suited to that plan than any other. My feet feel like lead weights.
Colin drops the plastic bag from the store on the armchair when we get into the apartment and then wanders into the kitchen. I hear the refrigerator door opening and the clank of beer bottles.
I’m dismayed to find Quin and Mick there, hanging out in front of the television. My plan to take a nap and sleep off this lethargy, or at least wile away a few more hours of my boring life in unconscious mode, is now on hold. With all these people in the room where I sleep, it’s not going to be possible. I sit in the corner of the couch and grab my e-reader from the coffee table, trying not to let my grouchiness show.
“You’re not going to bury your nose in another book, are you?” asks Quin, getting up from the nearby armchair.
“Yes,” I say simply. I don’t even look up at her.
“What are you reading?” Mick asks.
I shrug. I’m actually not reading anything right now. I’ve been staring at the same page of this book for days. I just look at the black words swimming around on the screen and let my mind wander into happier times, both past and imagined. It’s easier than trying to fall into someone else’s life on the pages.
“You’re not even reading a book, are you?” Quin asks, falling down into a spot on the couch right next to me. She’s too close, but I can’t move away since I’m stuck in the corner. I try not to let it irritate me, but it’s pretty much impossible.
She leans in closer. “Pride and Prejudice. Oh, God, are you reading that voluntarily? I mean, not for an English Lit assignment?”
“Some people do that, you know,” I say, flipping my tablet over so she’ll quit looking at it.
“You should read the sexy stuff. Erotic romance. The hotsy totsy hoochie cootchie stuff.”
I sniff a little. “Pride and Prejudice is sexy.”
She snorts. “My ass.”
“How would you know? You’ve never read it.”
“Like hell, I haven’t. That Darcy guy was a total pushover and I have no idea why he was okay with sloppy seconds. He deserved better.”
I cannot believe her. “Sloppy seconds? Are you serious?” Quin is so obtuse sometimes.
“Yes. Dead serious. Sloppy seconds all the way.”
“There are no sloppy seconds in Pride and Prejudice.” Now she’s just making me mad.
“What do you call Mr. Wickham? He was her first choice. He got the prime beef. Darcy? Sloppy seconds, like I said.”
I put my nose in the air. Quin has no idea what she’s talking about. “Wickham was a scoundrel and a cheat and not fit to be her husband.”
Quin starts laughing. “You sound like Elizabeth Bennet herself.”
I push myself up off the couch with effort, dropping my tablet to the table with a clatter. “Oh, shut up, Quin.”
I grab my purse that was hiding behind a plant and storm out of the apartment. It’s only after getting out into the hallway that I realize what a bad idea that was. Now I have nowhere to go, and I can’t very well walk
back into the apartment after that kind of exit; I’ll look ten times more foolish than I already do.
I walk to the end of the hallway and take the stairs down into the main garage. I’ve always just cruised through this space without stopping, but since I’ve been warned about ten times not to touch anything in Teagan’s office, this is the only place left to me unless I want to wander around outside, which I don’t. It’s way too hot outside for a pregnant person.
I sigh as I wander over to a table covered in tools, putting my purse over my head and across my chest so I can be hands-free. There’s a car nearby with its hood open and a rag lying over the radiator part. A piece of the engine is resting on the cloth. The car is painted an ugly orange.
Who’d paint a car orange? Not me. I’d go with white or cream. Something clean-looking and elegant. I sigh as I picture it. I had already picked out the perfect car for myself, freshman year, just like I’d picked out everything else I was eventually going to have in my life once I graduated. I even made a vision board with cut-out magazine pictures of the car, the house, the husband, the children, the dog and cat. Everything. I had the perfect plan.
I smile with extreme bitterness as the memories fade. All of those dreams are now gone, like car exhaust in my rearview mirror. I don’t even have my beater Toyota anymore. Ugh.
I run my fingers over one of the tools. It looks so blunt and masculine. It’s cold and hard and … ew, covered in black grease. Crud. Now I’m dirty. I try to wipe the goop off my fingers on a blue rag nearby, but there’s grease on that too. I’m standing there staring at my black-smeared hand when I hear footsteps behind me.
“You going to work on that water pump for me?”
It’s Colin. I brace myself as a shiver runs over my skin.
“I don’t think so,” I say, embarrassed that he witnessed my big exit. I feel bad now for telling Quin to shut up. She was just being Quin and that normally doesn’t bother me so much. Today is a weird day for my hormones, apparently.
“Here, let me help you.” Colin pulls a wet wipe out of a box and uses it on my fingers. His strong hands massage the grease right off my skin and leave me breathless as a side-effect.
“I’m sorry about being so … stupid,” I say, wishing I could take the words back as soon as they leave my mouth. Pregnancy has made me lose brain cells, I’m sure of it. No wonder I can’t read Pride and Prejudice.
“Who’s stupid? You? I don’t think so.” Colin takes a paper towel and wipes my hand dry.
Without thinking, I lean closer to him just the slightest bit and inhale. I love the way he smells. I don’t know if it’s laundry soap or cologne that keeps going up my nose, but it’s amazing. And it’s not too strong either, which would be a problem since pregnancy has given my nose superpowers. I step back a couple inches when I realize I’m about to close my eyes and sigh over it.
Shaking my head to get it back to reality, I try to explain myself. “Quin was just playing around like she always does, and I know she didn’t mean anything personal by it. I guess I should feel complimented that she teases me like she teases Teagan.”
“It means she likes you,” Colin says. His voice holds no judgment and for that I’m grateful. He’s being way too nice to me, considering I pelted him with about a hundred of his most feared objects today.
“I guess I could do with some less aggressive friendship at this point in my life,” I say.
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
I look up at him, even though he’s standing really close and it’s kind of intimate to be face to face like this. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He shrugs. “Dunno.”
I pull my hand out of his grip and move back another step. “Huh-uh. You’re not going to say something challenging like that and then just let it go.” My left hand rests on the edge of the bench and my fingers curl a little as my stress level rises. The nubs that used to be fingernails drag across the scarred wood surface.
“I wasn’t challenging you.” He moves away, taking a tool off the table and stepping over to the car, sliding the loose engine part over to the corner so he can reach the spot he’s aiming for. His broad back muscles stretch and flex under his tight t-shirt. Holy mackerelandy.
“Yes, you were, don’t lie.”
He pauses as he’s in the process of leaning over the engine. Twisting his upper body towards me, he fixes hard eyes on me and says, “I don’t lie.” Then he goes back to his work and proceeds to use his tool somewhere deep inside the mess of hoses and engine parts I can’t see very well.
“Well, what do you call that comment, then?” My breathing rate has increased and I can feel the heat rising in my face.
His voice sounds funny, muffled a little by the hood of the car. “Just an alternate way of looking at the situation.”
“How so?” I tap my finger over and over on the bench. The rhythm keeps me from wanting to throw things.
He continues working while he answers. “You said you could do with something different. But maybe you say that because you just want to stay miserable. Maybe Quin and Teagan could help you to feel happy again, but you don’t want to let them because you’re too focused on punishing yourself.”
“What?” My blood is starting to boil. I’m not even sure I’ve fully processed what he’s saying, or that I’m sure about what he means, but I have a feeling I’m not going to like it.
He stands up and faces me. “Nobody in this place understands that mindset more than me, okay? I wrote the fucking book on it. You don’t need to hide your shit from me.”
I huff out a breath of air, trying to stay civil in the face of his rudeness. “I really wish you’d stop swearing like that.”
He shrugs. “Don’t cloud the issue.”
“Cloud the issue? I’m not clouding the issue.” My voice is going up in volume, but I can’t seem to stop it. It echoes around the large open space. “Everywhere I go around you people I’m hearing the F-word and the S-word and the C- word and the D-word. Teagan and Quin have a swear word for every letter of the alphabet. Why can’t any of you express yourselves without using foul language?”
“Somebody used the C-word around you?” He’s smiling. He actually has the nerve to smile when I’m upset.
“You’re surprised about that?” I throw my hands up and let them fall down to slap my legs. “I don’t get you, Colin. You paint like a master, you swear like a trucker, and you smile like an angel. You are a walking, talking, out-loud lie of epic proportions.”
He stands there for a few long seconds frowning at me before he responds. “Uhhh … I’m not exactly sure … did you just compliment me or insult me?”
“Arrrgh!” I scream, storming off. I stride through the office and out the front door of the garage. I cannot stand to be in the same room with that man for another second. I’m liable to nub him to death with my pitiful used-to-be fingernails.
“Where are you going?” Colin’s behind me, yelling from the doorway as I trudge across the parking lot.
“None of your beeswax! Leave me alone!” I have no idea where I’m going, but he doesn’t need to know that.
I spy some golden arches in the distance and decide this is probably the best place for me to burn off my anger. I can get a free ice water and use their bathroom - double score.
Putting all my anger into my stride, I make it to the fast-food place in under five minutes.
CHAPTER FOUR
I’M SUCKING DOWN THE LAST bits of an ice water delivered through a fat, plastic, yellow-striped straw when I spy a pregnant girl coming in the door. She looks like she’s ready to pop, and the minute I spy her cankles I recognize a kindred spirit. I totally feel her pain.
She looks over at me and smiles shyly.
I smile back because for the first time all day, I feel like I’m looking at someone who can understand what I’m going through. It helps to not feel like the only one in the world suffering like I am. There are now two potbelly pigs in the house. I wonder if s
he snorts when she laughs too. I never used to do that.
She goes up to the counter and orders. When she gets her tray, she walks over in my direction.
I quickly look down at the table, embarrassed about being caught staring. I know I hate it when people do that to me.
“Hi. Is this seat taken?” she asks, gesturing to the spot across from me.
I look around at all the empty tables around us. We’re the only ones in the whole place. Why does she want to sit here?
“No, I guess not.” I squirm a little in my seat. I’m not used to strangers approaching me, and now this is twice in one day it’s happened. Am I wearing a sign that says, Make friends with me, I’m lonely?
“Good. Because I am sick and tired of sitting in the corner alone,” she says, smiling again. Her teeth are so white they glow. Her hair is pulled back in a slick pony tail and her skin is flawless, the color of dark mahogany. I can’t stop staring at her face.
“What? Do I have something on me? A sesame seed?” She wipes at her cheek.
I shake my head. “No. I was just admiring your complexion. You’re one of those pregnant girls who glows.” I sigh heavily. “I’m the kind that tarnishes and blotches.”
“Oh, flub that. You’re gorgeous.”
I smile. “Flub that? That’s original.”
She shrugs as she chews a bite of her happy meal hamburger. “You know. Gonna have a baby and all. Gotta start going with the Rated-G stuff.”
When I see her eating the little kid meal and her round little face, it strikes me how young she looks. “How far along are you?” I ask. What I really want to know is how old she is, but I don’t want to be rude.
“Eight months, three days, and forty some minutes. I am so done with the pregnancy, you have no idea.”
