by Bry Ann
“You are in my prayers, Sam.” She handed me my ticket.
“Jazmine, thank you so much.” My eyes filled with tears. “I won’t forget you.”
She gave me a sweet smile and the minute I turned away she started attacking her gum again. I spent a few hours aimlessly walking around the airport, ignoring my roaring stomach. I should have packed food or ate more at Logan’s. Of course, I only recognized my hunger when I couldn’t afford food, not when it was available to me. The whole time at the airport my phone was going off like crazy. It was Dana. Apparently, things with Logan hadn’t gone well. I felt bad ignoring the girl I’d come to love like a sister, but this was best for her, for them. I loved them, and that was a large part of the reason I was leaving. I wasn’t capable of real love again. I’d only hurt them.
I boarded my plane. Luckily it was a short flight. Once I landed in Wyoming I felt slightly calmer. It felt like I could breathe again. No one knew me here, there were no places that held memories, it had a small population, and the air was fresh and crisp. I already was happy with my decision. I was home, and I knew it. I could almost feel my mom pushing me off the plane. She was with me, but I didn’t want her to be. I was a bitch, and I just wanted to forget her. I wanted to forget the woman who took me in and loved me with everything she had because she was gone, she left me.
Within a week I found a job as an assistant manager at a local diner. Cheyenne wasn’t big, so jobs weren’t as abundant as Nashville, but I liked the diner. Everyone who worked there was older and seemed more southern than anyone I’d met in Nashville. They were very hospitable and focused more on work than friendships. I fit in there. They knew my name but not me as a person. We worked, were friendly and went home. I found a roommate in Cheyenne quickly. Her name was Alexa, but I never saw her. It was like the apartment was all mine. Somehow though, despite never being there, she happened to be the messiest human being I had ever come across. I wasn’t OCD or anything by any means, but geez. Rent was cheap though, and the place was nice. I continued getting texts from Logan and Dana, but I ignored them all. It was best for everyone involved if I just cut them off now.
I wanted to think my life was going perfectly but it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the weight I was gaining. I was pregnant, and I knew it. I had to grow up. I wasn’t even that scared about the situation yet. It just didn’t feel real. I knew it would soon though. Very soon.
That Thursday I went to the local drug store and picked up twelve pregnancy tests. Twelve, every brand they had. I needed to know for sure without a shadow of a doubt if I was pregnant or not. I shook as I walked in the front door of my apartment. I was expecting to walk into an empty living room but was surprised to find my trashy roommate sitting on the couch making out with this guy like they were teenagers.
“Woah,” I cried out spinning around.
She immediately zoned in on my bag. I wasn’t expecting her to be here, so I didn’t hide it. She pushed the guy off her.
“Someone get you fucking knocked up or something?”
“Hopefully not,” I mumbled.
“Well,” she said looking at my ever-growing stomach. “No babies allowed here.”
“I fucking know that okay!” I yelled and slammed my bedroom door.
I ran into the bathroom and yanked out one of the tests and peed on it, per the instructions. It didn’t take long for the test to confirm what I already knew, positive. I hastily pulled out the other eleven, peeing on them one at a time, desperate for a different result. Positive. Positive. Positive. Positive. Positive. Positive. Positive. Positive. Positive. Positive. Positive.
“FUCKKKKK!!!” I yelled throwing everything across the room. “Fucking shit!”
I heard my roommate saying something, but I ignored her. I was pregnant with fucking Logan Prescott's baby. I couldn’t tell him. I couldn’t be drawn back into my old life. To him. It wasn’t just him I would be going back to. It would be the press. The media. All of that. Not to mention, most importantly, I couldn’t ruin his life like that, his career. Tie him to me. He was a good man and whether he wanted it or not he would take care of this baby with everything he had. He had even told me that once when we were talking about my dad. I wouldn’t do that to him. Plus, I probably wasn’t going to keep the baby. I’d probably put it for adoption. It made no sense to tell him when I wasn’t even going to keep it.
That’s what I told myself.
The reality was I was a coward.
For a while I had planned to keep in touch with Dana and Logan after I’d had some time to myself, but now I knew that I’d never answer their calls. Their texts. It would be too risky. I had to become somebody else. I made an OBGYN appointment immediately. I was already super late, and despite hating and being terrified at the concept of being a mother, I already loved the little thing inside. It had been patient for several months, not giving me too much grief, until I got my shit together. I was having a relatively easy first trimester. I owed it medical care, regardless of whether I wanted to keep it or not. I’d discuss adoption with my doctor when I met her.
I took off work the next day for my doctor’s appointment. That was one reason, but the other was I just needed some time to myself so that I could think. I went into my drawer and pulled out a picture of my mom and me.
“Mom,” I whispered to the picture. “What do I do? Tell me what to do. I need you. I can’t be a mom. How did you do it?”
I wanted so badly to forget my mom but now that I was going to be one I just wished I could have last one conversation with her. I wanted to ask her how she did it, how she loved me and everyone so much. How she accepted the hard-headed, stubborn, distrusting little girl that was me into her life so easily. I never asked her that. Not once.
I fell asleep holding the picture and only got up when my alarm alerted me that it was thirty minutes until my appointment the next morning. I threw on some jeans and a t-shirt and flew out the door with my backpack like a ten-year-old.
The waiting room was freezing. It had all white walls and had a few magazines lying around. Not much of anything else. The receptionist told me to wait for just a second. It took less than ten minutes for a man to walk out and greet me.
“Hello. I’m Dr. Marks. I will be your doctor. How are you today?”
Dr. Marks seemed very welcoming and had a kind face, but he was a man. I wanted to yell. I don’t know what I thought when I saw Dr. Marks under “best OBGYN’s in Cheyenne,” but I guess I just assumed that an OBGYN would be a woman no matter what. How sexist of me.
Dr. Marks had the best reviews by far though, so I owed him a chance. Channel my mom, I thought. Channel my mom. She’d give him a chance. Sam wouldn’t, but my mom would. With that thought I plastered a fake smile on my face.
He walked me to the back, and I analyzed the brown haired, brown eyed man in front of me. He was in his mid-forties, average height, average weight. A normal enough looking dude. Once I was in the chair, I turned to him.
“So, what makes you so good, huh? What makes you different?”
He smiled. “I don’t know…” he glanced at my chart, “Ms. Perkins.”
“Sam,” interrupted.
“Okay, Sam. I try to get to know my patients. Do what’s best for them. I love my job,” he said simply and honestly. I had a smart-ass remark, but I could hear my mom in my head telling me to be nice so I bit my lip.
“Okay. So, what do I do now?”
He smiled again. “Well, first I’ll just ask you a few questions. Is the father in the picture?”
“No.”
If that upset him he didn’t let on; he just made a note on the chart.
“Is there a way to at least speak with him once to get the medical history?”
“No. He’s not...involved.”
He eyed me suspiciously. “Ms. Perkins…”
“Sam!” I snapped.
“Does he know you are having this baby?”
Damn, he was good. “I don’t think that’s your bus
iness.”
“Okay, you are right, but as a guy who has made a lot of dumb decisions in his life, he does have a right to know. I’m not saying this as a doctor, just as a fellow human being.”
He said it with such kindness I couldn’t be mad. In fact, not only was I not mad I liked him. I somehow trusted him. My body language relaxed considerably, and I could tell he noticed. He set down his clipboard.
“How about we get to know each other a bit first?”
For the next twenty or so minutes we discussed several different topics. I told him about my mom and how she was gone. I told him how scared I was. Suddenly he became my counselor, and he didn’t seem to care. Finally, I decided to ask the question that weighed most heavily on my mind.
“Dr. Marks, after meeting me I have to ask. Should I put this baby up for adoption?”
HIs gaze quickly flickered up to me, and he eyed me carefully.
“That is up to you, Sam.”
“I don’t want some bullshit rehearsed answer! I want a real answer. I want someone to fucking help me!”
Dr. Marks scooted his chair up a bit. “You want the truth?”
“Yes I do.”
“Here it is. If you love this baby, want this baby and truly believe you can give this baby everything you have then keep it, but Sam if you aren’t ready plenty of families would love to have a healthy baby.”
“I...I…was adopted. My mom was amazing, but I always wondered why my parents didn’t want me. I don’t want the same for her. I want her to have better than me, but I am not the best mom for her.” I looked down at my feet as I spoke.
“Her?” he asked amused. “Do you know something I don’t.”
“I know it’s a girl. It’s a girl. I can feel it.”
“Well Sam, I think if you love this baby you’ll turn out to be a great mom. Follow your heart.”
I nodded, and we proceeded with the exam. The baby was healthy. Apparently very healthy. How that was possible with all the stress, anxiety and neglect I put her through was a miracle. This baby was a fighter, like me.
“Sam,” he asked, “Do you want to know the gender? You are four months pregnant. I can tell you the gender now, or you can be surprised.”
I knew I should wait. What if I decided to put it up for adoption? The less I knew, the better, but I was selfish.
“No, I want to know now,” I shrugged with a completely bullshit nonchalant tone.
After moving the jelly around my stomach, he turned to me with a smirk.
“Congratulations Sam. You are having a girl.”
I tried not being happy. I shouldn’t have been. I was the worst possible choice for a mother, but I was completely overjoyed. I couldn’t stop the smile from creeping up on my face.
“I was right!”
“Mother always knows best,” he said back to me with a smile.
I froze. Mother. Holy shit. I was her mother.
“Breath Sam,” he laughed. “One step at a time.”
He ran over some prenatal care with me, and we made another appointment. He made me feel more at ease, and despite being all alone, he made me feel like I didn’t have to do this on my own. I had someone on my side, and that was relieving.
That night I went to bed, held my stomach and thought of Logan. They had texted me so many times, begged me to let them know I was alright, and I gave them no such courtesy. It wasn’t until two months later that I thought of Logan again.
I was five and a half months pregnant, and despite being a total bitch about my pregnancy at first, my roommate turned out to be all talk. She never said a nice word to me, but she would always do things to make my life easier and act like it was an accident. For instance, she would always act like she made too much food or bought too much food at the store and gave me the extras. I hadn’t made dinner myself since after my OBGYN appointment. She bought a shirt for the baby and threw it at me with a shrug. All she said was “it was cute.”
It wasn’t until the day I turned six months pregnant that she turned to me with a serious face and said, “You know I won’t kick you out when the little tike is born. I’ll even start cleaning up my shit for her if you need to stay.”
I smiled when she said that. I had to find somewhere nicer for the baby, but it was so nice to know I wasn’t being thrown out the door. Everyone at work was older so they were beyond supportive of me as well. I had become day manager of the diner, but everyone picked up duties for me. I rarely accepted the help, but it felt like a working family in a way no other workplace had. A large part of that was me. I had committed to being more like my mom and less like me. I joined a yoga/boxing studio to cope with my emotions. Yoga helped me stay calm, and boxing gave me an outlet for my aggression. It also had the bonus of giving me some pretty decent abs and making me feel healthier. It was something that would be a good influence on my daughter. When I needed to vent, I talked to Dr. Marks or Alexa. There was still one major secret I was keeping from everyone, and it came back to bite me seven months in. I was on the couch watching some trash TV with my purple hair, skinny rocker chick of a roommate when Logan's face popped up on the screen. I didn’t even think when we flipped it to the entertainment trash station. The minute his face popped up on the screen the baby went crazy. It wasn’t just the baby though. My heart started racing. I felt like I couldn’t breathe.
“You okay?” Alexa turned to me with a trace of concern.
“Fine,” I said as if the wind wasn’t just knocked out me.
She glared at me but turned back towards the TV. Logan was talking about his album.
“I hate people like him. All money, no morals. He’s fucking hot though.”
I was breathless. A simple “Mmm-hmmm” was all I could manage.
“You sure you’re okay?” she asked again.
“Yes!” I snapped, “Just turn it up.”
“Okay, okay. Geez bitch.”
I ignored her and zoned in on the hot blonde-haired man who had been there for me when no one else was. The me that existed six months ago. A very broken me. He saw something in me I wasn't sure existed back then. I was changing now, accepting new people into my life and becoming softer and more loving. Still me, but this baby combined with my new life and coping skills were making me better. He’d be proud. Dana would be proud too. My heart ached at the thought.
“The album originally was going to be electronic. I love that music. It’s fun and can change a mood instantly. However, due to recent events in my life I have decided to make it a mix of electronic and acoustic. I’ve experienced some loss and heartache...and well,” Logan cleared his throat. “I needed an outlet for my anger and hurt. This album has become that for me.”
The interviewer was intrigued and kept asking him questions, but I didn’t listen. I hurt him. He was the last person I ever wanted to hurt. I stood up quickly before the tears inevitably fell out of my eyes.
“I’m going to bed,” I said abruptly. I went to my room and slammed the door.
The great thing about Alexa, she accepted my moods without question.
Chapter 14:
Finally, after what seemed like forever, I was nine months pregnant. I felt huge. Everyone said I looked great, but they were freaking liars. Alexa had insisted on taking pictures of me every month since the day I confirmed my pregnancy. She promised I’d want the memory. There was something more behind her request, but I never questioned it. If she wanted me to know why she insisted I do this, she’d tell me.
“What are you going to name her?” Alexa asked as we sat sprawled out on the couch. “I mean you are ready to pop. Do you know her name yet?”
“Yes.” I smiled a genuinely happy smile. Her name was perfect.
“Well…. I’ve been waiting for fucking ever.”
“Jazmine.”
I thought of the girl who promised to pray for me when I had no one. I thought of naming her Dana, but I think deep, deep down I wasn’t convinced I’d never see Dana again, even though I swore I would
n’t. If I ever did see her again, I’d feel weird with them both having the same name. However, Dana needed to be honored.
“Jazmine Dana Perkins,” I clarified with a smile.
In a rare moment of happiness, Alexa smiled too. “I love it. She’s gonna be sassy like you, and it fits her perfectly. I can tell.”
“Thanks Alexa. For everything. You’ve been a real friend to me here.”
“Yeah, yeah…” She waved a hand.
“For real,” I laughed. “There’s a reason I am saying this.”
“Yes…?” Her brows creased as she stared at me. Alexa wasn’t one who liked surprises or favors.
“I want you to be the godmother.”
Her jaw dropped. It wasn't just shock in her eyes; she was touched. Tears filled her eyes, and she covered her face with her hands. I was stunned by her reaction. Alexa was not at all emotional. It was the first time I’d seen her touched by anything.
“Alexa….” I said slowly.
“You’d trust me to be her Godmother?” There was a look of complete awe on her face. She was human after all.
“Of course. You’re rough around the edges, but you’ve been there for us and accepted us. I’d be honored for you to be her godmother.”
She sat on the couch and cried. I stared at her unable to shake my shock.
“When I was about 19 or so I was pregnant. My life was fucked at the time, and I lost her. It crushed me. Still does. This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”
My eyesight blurred as I wrapped my arms around her.
“I’m so glad I chose you then.” I squeezed her shoulders.
It took less than three days for Alexa to change her habits. She was still herself, crazy, but she was cleaner, monogamous and all traces of alcohol were erased from our flat. I found an apartment that would be suitable for my new life as a mom and Alexa helped me get all moved in. Thankfully it was still within walking distance from her apartment. I had a feeling I would be grateful for that in more ways than one. With my due date being less than three weeks away I was no longer working. I had my last doctor appointment, and it was amazing how far I’d come in my time with Dr. Marks. Not only did he take care of me and my baby’s physical health, but he became like my mommy therapist.
