An Ordinary Fairy Tale

by C. B. Stagg

  She stayed home again on Thursday, giving herself one more day off to gain strength. I’d had to close the practice fields earlier that day because the rain had left the ground so wet that anyone practicing on them could have damaged them for Saturday’s games. They needed time to drain and dry properly, and I needed time to care for and love on my girl.

  I showered after working in the cold drizzle most of the afternoon and then headed over to Vaughn’s apartment, armed with my mom’s famous chicken noodle soup. She’d talked me through making it the night before, and it had cooked all day in my newly purchased Crock-Pot on my kitchen counter.

  “Hey babe, I brought dinner!” I called as I opened her door. She’d long since given me the code to her keypad lock to come and go as I pleased, but I’d never taken advantage until this week when she’d gotten so sick.

  I found Vaughn on the couch, covered up, with a book in her lap and a steaming cup of tea in her hands. Her hair was falling out of a messy ponytail, and she had not a stitch of makeup on her freckled face. Breathtaking.

  “Are you visiting eighteenth-century Scotland again?” I kept up with the books she read. It was our thing, discussing books, and I had no shame admitting I was a historical romance junkie.

  Hearing my voice, she looked up at me and smiled. It was the most beautiful sight my eyes had ever seen. Her eyes were bright and the color was coming back to her cheeks. It definitely appeared that she was feeling better. “Nah, I’ve moved on to Colonial America.”

  A moment later, she lifted her nose into the air. “MMMM, what’s that smell?”

  She followed me as I walked to the kitchen and looked on as I filled two bowls with soup. Turning to carry some to her, I stopped short, not knowing she’d snuck up right behind me, and I spilled at least half of her soup all down my front.

  She gasped, hands popping up to cover her mouth. “Oh my God, I am so sorry! Casey, are you burned? Here, let me help you… ”

  I loved the flustered way she babbled on when she was nervous. It reminded me of that first day at the soccer park. The day she changed my life forever. In truth, I’d planned to make a stop at the microwave before handing it to her as it had cooled off significantly on the walk over.

  I wasn’t burned, but I was still wet, and I wasn’t about to stop her when she started helping me out of my thermal shirt. She ran to the sink to wet a dishtowel before coming back to wipe up the mess. I hadn’t spilled that much to begin with, and I’m pretty sure what did spill had been soaked up by my shirt. But the idea of her rubbing my chest and stomach with a warm towel was enough for me to keep my mouth shut and let her do her thing.

  As she cleaned me up, I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her body close to mine. She tossed the towel on the nearby table and melted into me completely. We stood like that for several minutes, letting our hearts beat against one another. When she finally pulled back a little, she placed her hand over the bare skin that covered my heart, tracing my hummingbird tattoo with her finger, just like she had all those weeks ago in my apartment. It was actually the perfect segue into a conversation I’d been meaning to have with her soon, so I took advantage of the opportunity.

  “There’s a story behind that tattoo,” I whispered to the top of her head. “I got my high school girlfriend pregnant our junior year.”

  Suddenly, the tracing stopped, and she looked up at me. Her sad blue eyes were wide, asking to know more.

  “She had an abortion. I didn’t even know about the baby until after it was done.”

  It was one of the hardest things I’d ever done, looking her right in the eyes and telling her my deepest, darkest secret. It was even harder when tears started to spill down her perfect cheeks. She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it, choosing instead to step up on her tiptoes and place her lips right where her fingers had been on my chest.

  That was the first real, skin-to-skin physical contact we’d had since the weekend we’d made the rules. Tomorrow the rules went out the window. But that was tomorrow, not tonight.

  I led her back to her spot on the couch, while I finished preparing our soup. Then I joined her, telling the entire story of Lacey and our baby.

  “So, why the hummingbird?”

  It was a good question, one that no one had ever asked me. Getting the tattoo just a few months after finding out about the baby was like closure for me. I didn’t even have to think of what to get. It was just always going to be a hummingbird.

  “Hummingbirds are so tiny and delicate. They have to go through so much more than other species, just to survive due to their size. When I think about my baby girl, I always picture her as a tiny, delicate creature who just wanted to survive.” My voice broke.

  She placed her head on my beating heart and I held her… but really, she was holding me. Having to relive the nightmare from ten years before was one of the most difficult conversations I’d ever had, but a weight was lifted from my shoulders, knowing that I had no secrets from Vaughn anymore.

  “Hey,” I whispered after a few minutes, wondering if she’d fallen asleep in my embrace. “I need to run home for a second. I have something for you. I was going to wait a while to give it to you, but I think now might be the perfect time.”

  I left her on the couch, sprinted out of the apartment, and was back within a few minutes. I handed Vaughn the small black box I’d ordered all those weeks ago and waited for her to look inside. She held it in her hands, looking between the box and me, back and forth, almost not knowing what to do with it.

  “Open it,” I said.

  She did, tentatively, and tears burst from her eyes as she pulled the delicate necklace from the small, velvet box. From a thin silver chain hung a silver hummingbird. It was an exact replica of the one tattooed on my chest.

  “I know this may seem weird, but hear me out,” I started as I took it from her hands and reached around to clasp it behind her neck. We were nose-to-nose, so when it was fastened I stayed there, pressing my forehead to hers. “You have had to fight hard to survive. Every step for you has been a struggle.”

  I cupped her cheeks in my hands and kissed her nose. “I want you to wear this necklace for two reasons. One, to remind you of what you’ve been through and that you’re a fighter. You’re the strongest person I know, and you can make it through anything.”

  Her tears were free-flowing again, and she reached up to cup my face too, but I went on. “And two, I want it to be a symbol of us. Yes, you’re a fighter, and yes, you’re strong… but you aren’t alone anymore. It’s no longer ‘you’ and ‘me.’ Instead, it’s ‘us’ and ‘we.’ We’re a team. You don’t have to fight by yourself because I’m here to fight with you. To fight for you.” I had more to say, but her lips found mine, and I. Was. Done.

  Wrapping my arms around her, I pulled her down onto me and the rest of the night was spent holding Vaughn’s body against mine, loving her. I explored her mouth, nibbled on her sweet lips, and kissed the entire surface of her face and neck. I allowed myself to get completely lost in her for hours. That night was the best I’d spent with a woman in my life, and I never even got to second base.

  Eventually, her incessant yawns told me I needed to let her get to bed. But when I attempted to leave, she let me know she had another idea.

  Wrapping her legs around me, her eyes remained closed as she mumbled, “Please stay with me tonight, just to hold me while I dream. I’m not ready to say goodbye to you yet.”

  And there it was… the beginning of the rest of my life.

  17-Vaughn

  I’D NEVER BEEN so sick in all my life.

  I tried my hardest to be brave for Casey. He didn’t need to be worrying about me, and he certainly didn’t need to take off work just to take care of me. I’d never really been sick before, at least not like that, and I was thankful for the reprieve from the vomiting Thursday night.

  I’d been somewhat sneaky with Casey, not telling him that I had plans to visit my gynecologist to discuss birth contro
l options. I was both nervous and excited when booking the appointment weeks ago. My hope was to get in a lot sooner, but taking the first appointment my crazy schedule would allow was my only option.

  It was a responsible move on my part, I thought. We were both consenting adults in our twenties, entering into a relationship after two months of immense attraction, but very little physical contact. While I desperately wanted to be the mother of Casey’s beautiful babies one day, it wasn’t going to be anytime soon.

  Growing up in an all-girls school, my exposure to the opposite sex consisted of my headmaster, a few instructors, the custodian, and Mr. Preston. Everything I’d known about men was from reading romance novels, but I figured the hot and steamy sex scenes were a tad bit exaggerated.

  Not having a mother or a sister, I was kind of self-taught about sex and contraception. Going to Becky for advice would have been way too awkward, so I did my own research. I knew the right information to bring with me and the right questions to ask. Walking in, I was as ready as I could have been for this appointment.

  Until I wasn’t.

  “Ms. Jennings?”

  I nodded at the older nurse as she peeked out from the inner office door. She looked like she’d be the sweetest grandmother, and her smile made her eyes almost disappear.

  I walked in her direction as my heart started pounding in my chest. I was starting to get nervous.

  “And how are you today?” She motioned me to sit down in a chair. “Are you getting enough sleep? You look tired.” She wrapped the blood pressure cuff around my arm and started pumping air into it, squeezing my arm.

  I groaned. “Uh, I’ve had this horrible stomach virus the last few days and it’s just hanging on. I can’t seem to shake it.” She removed the cuff and popped the thermometer into my mouth. It made me want to gag, not at all my normal response.

  “Well, so far I’m not seeing anything to be concerned about. Both your blood pressure and temperature are in the normal range. Now, if you’ll just hop up on the scale, I’ll get your weight.”

  “Do I need to remove my shoes?”

  “Well, not unless you think you’re taller than the five foot, two inches you were the first time you saw us.” She smiled sweetly, and I wondered what it would be like to have a grandmother.

  I laughed, pretty sure I hadn’t grown since coming to college. I hadn’t grown since the sixth grade, though I’d always held out hope. The womanly curves I sported came earlier than most of the girls I went to school with. My housemother and the older girls in my dorm assured me I’d grow taller and my body would stretch out, therefore distributing my weight more evenly. They lied.

  Stepping on the scale, I waited for the number to appear on the digital display. When it did, I was shocked.

  “Ms. Jennings, you’ve lost almost twenty pounds since you were here in August. Are you dieting?” She clicked her tongue in obvious disapproval of that idea.

  Nope, no dieting for me. I’d long since accepted the fact that I would always have hips, thighs, boobs, and a butt that were a bit more round than what society deemed attractive. It had taken a while, but finally, I’d given up striving for perfection and became perfectly happy with what I had. Plus, I didn’t hear Casey complaining, not that his opinion should matter to me. I was actually a little mournful for my twenty pounds, and I wanted them back.

  She noted the information on my chart and led me to an exam room, where I found the typical blue paper gown and white sheet. “Take off your clothes and put this gown on with the front open. The doctor will be in shortly.” She closed the door, leaving me alone with my rapidly beating heart and my nervous stomach.

  I was ready and waiting when Dr. Suarez breezed in a few long minutes later. “Hi Vaughn, how are you today?” She seemed disinterested in my answer and started flipping to the back of my chart. “It says here you’ve been sick recently and I see that you’ve lost a considerable amount of weight.” She closed the chart and sat on her rolling stool, looking at me for the first time. “What’s that about?” Her gentle voice was soothing, and it calmed me just listening to her talk.

  I listed the specifics of the virus, sparing none of the gruesome details. She made a few notes, then stood to wash her hands before opening my gown. I’m going to put some pressure on your stomach, and I want you to tell me if you feel any pain whatsoever.”

  I nodded in agreement.

  She started under my ribs and at first, it felt like someone was poking at me. But as she moved lower, I was hit with a sharp, searing pain reaching from my right side all the way around to my spine.

  “Ow, Ow, Ow.” I sounded like a child, but I could barely draw a breath, the pain was so severe.

  “Hmm, you’ve had an appendectomy, correct?”

  I nodded, still trying to muster enough breath to speak.

  Pap smear forgotten, she closed my gown and offered me her hand. “Let’s go get a better look at what may be happening here.”

  The doctor quickly ushered me to a sterile, cold ultrasound room, where I was placed on another, more complex table with stirrups. Machines were turned on, lights were dimmed, and a peppy little woman sat on a rolling stool between a large monitor and me.

  “Hello, sweetie. How are you doing today?”

  She bumbled around, fussing with knobs and switches and cords. Having no desire to answer her question, I pretended like I didn’t hear her. She wasn’t listening anyway, as she hummed a jaunty little tune and turned more knobs and flipped more switches. I half expected bluebirds and various woodland animals to join in harmony.

  She placed a sheet across my lap, taking great care to ensure I was properly covered, which I appreciated. “All right now, part your knees, honey. You’ll feel something cold, then some pressure, but after a second you won’t even know it’s there.” I winced as she inserted the ultrasound probe. The intrusion of the wand was incredibly uncomfortable, and suddenly I felt very shy, wanting nothing more than to hide my face.

  The monitor then sparked to life, grabbing my attention. “Let’s see now, there’s your bladder right there… ” She pointed to a blob on the screen. “And there’s your left kidney. Here is your uterus, and these are fallopian tubes here leading up to the—”

  Her voice dropped off, like a door slamming shut, as she moved the wand to look from different angles. Then she removed the wand and popped up so fast, her stool shot across the floor and bounced off the opposite wall.

  “Excuse me, but I’ll be right back, darlin’. You just stay put and I won’t be but a minute.” Patting my covered leg, she zipped out, closing the door behind her. And then I was alone.

  I found myself shivering uncontrollably, head to toe. The gown I’d been given was so thin I could practically see through it, but luckily, Mary Sunshine had placed a blanket over my abdomen. I pulled it up, seeking shelter from the elements. The second I got comfortable, the door opened again and the tech was back with company.

  Dr. Suarez sat down and took control of the probe. She moved it up, down, and all around like she was driving a standard transmission. She’d stop every minute or so to type on the keyboard, take a measurement, snap a screenshot, and then start it all again. Finally, she switched the monitor off with a sigh.

  “Vaughn, your clothes are still in exam room three. Please get dressed and then I’ll be in to talk to you in a minute.”

  I should have been worried. I should have been scared. I should have been something, but I wasn’t.

  I was nothing.

  According to Google, a grapefruit can be anywhere from 3.5-6 inches in diameter and it can weigh about a pound. That’s big enough to know if you had one stored away somewhere on your person, like in your purse or in your pocket. There's no sneaking a grapefruit. But if they're so big and so heavy, how did I not know I had one inside my body, hugging tightly to my right ovary, silently trying to steal my future from me, silently trying to kill me?

  “Vaughn, your ultrasound indicates a large mass, growing on your
right ovary. At this point, I can’t be certain if it’s a cyst or a tumor… ”

  Ignorance is bliss, and I certainly had lots of that, but I also had hope. I was young. I was just starting to actually experience things. I almost had a boyfriend. Things were too good to go bad.

  “Vaughn, these are the facts: You have a sizable mass growing on your right ovary. I’d estimate it to be in the five to six-inch range in diameter—about the size of a grapefruit. For someone your age, this is extremely rare and gravely serious.”

  “But I can still have children, right?”

  Babies. Beautiful babies with Casey. It was my dream. It was my future. I was going to be a mother. It was my dream to make him a father. I knew that was what he wanted more than anything in the world, and I was going to be the one to give it to him.

  “Don’t get ahead of yourself. It’s impossible to know what we’re dealing with until we get in there and see. I can’t answer many questions until that time.”

  Get in there? In me?

  “When will that be, then?” Did I ask that question, or was it just in my head? My emotions were manifesting themselves all over my face. I was losing it. Every awful scenario was playing out in my mind like a bad ‘Made for TV’ movie.

  “As soon as possible, Vaughn. Do you have someone you can call?”

  I hated pity, and that’s what I saw on her face like a mask. She knew my situation. She knew I had nobody.

  I fished my phone out of my purse that had been set at my feet by the kind nurse. “Hello, this is Vaughn Jennings. Can I speak to George Preston? Um, it’s an emergency.”

  I don’t know why I added that last part. Never in my life had I waited more than one minute for him to take my call. For whatever reason, he always dropped everything for me. No matter what.

  “Vaughn, darling, why this is an unexpected surprise.” I could hear the smile on his face through the phone. The cheery nature in which he always answered my calls gripped at my heart. “What can I do for you, dear?” So loving, so fatherly.