Violet Addiction

by Kirsty Dallas

  “I don’t want you to follow me there, Cain. My crazy is no place for you.”

  Cain kissed the back of my neck. “Violet, you are my home, so if following you through your crazy leads me home, I’m gonna follow. Your crazy can live within the walls of my crazy, and we will be one big happy, crazy family.”

  I didn’t have the energy to argue and I didn’t really want to. Cain’s words, as usual, fought back the hate that was a constant threat to my heart and sanity. If I was Cain’s home, he was most definitely the bricks and mortar that held us together.

  My knee was bouncing in a cadence that put jumping beans to shame. Up, down, up, down, so fast my entire body shook with the nervous twitch. My palms were sweaty, and my stomach felt queasy. Never before had I felt so completely and utterly out of my comfort zone. The room was painted in a muted green with a few black and white canvases picturing innocent, sleeping babes. Information pamphlets on everything from baby transport capsules, hypnobirthing—which intrigued me but I definitely didn’t go near it—immunizations, and breast feeding hung from one wall. Speaking of breast feeding, a young mother with a newborn baby was proudly feeding her little bundle of squirming joy directly in front of me. I tried hard not to watch, unsure what the etiquette was in such a situation, but my eyes were constantly drawn back to the baby who suckled peacefully at his mother’s breast. Although a perfectly natural and beautiful vision, the thought of Annabelle feeding in front of Cain sent a now very familiar pang of jealousy through my veins. I shook my head, annoyed with myself and dragged my attention back to my phone that I pretended to be completely invested in, rather than freaking the hell out. The solid warmth of Cain’s hand lowered on top of mine, and he forced our fingers to entwine. Like all good gentlemen, he didn’t comment about the perspiration he had latched on to.

  “I’m the single mother who’s going to have the life sucked out of her boobs; I’m the one who should be freaking out right now, Violet, not you,” mumbled Annabelle from Cain’s other side.

  “I can’t believe you’re not uncomfortable with…this,” I quietly hissed back in her direction.

  “Trust me, if they whip my legs into stirrups and start poking around down below, I will be anything but comfortable.” I just about swallowed my tongue, but Annabelle’s slight look of panic had me keep my mouth shut. “Really, that would be uncomfortable. If they do anything like that, would you both mind leaving the room?” She suddenly seemed nervous, and it didn’t seem right. Annabelle had been unusually happy about this entire situation since Cain and I had picked her up forty-five minutes ago. Her enthusiasm had been almost contagious, almost.

  “Of course we’ll give you privacy. If you feel uncomfortable at any point during the exam, we’ll leave,” Cain easily murmured. Annabelle gave a satisfied nod.

  “I can just wait out here if you like, even outside the building. I’m sure there is a café somewhere close by. Coffee, I really need coffee,” I rambled.

  “No, you’re part of this team, Violet, and you are joining us in that room. Stop being such a baby.” A small bark of laughter escaped Annabelle’s lips. “No pun intended.” She shrugged at my incredulous look. “Having you here feels right. I’m okay with it, so you need to be okay with it, or you’ll pass your jitters on to my unborn baby.”

  I tried hard to relax but was completely unsuccessful, and when a round faced, grey haired nurse stepped into the room and called Annabelle’s name, I just about passed out on the spot. Cain had to all but drag me down the long corridor and into the exam room.

  “Oh, you’ve got an audience,” the nurse exclaimed, noticing Cain and I following.

  “That’s the baby daddy and his girlfriend,” Annabelle said easily as she followed the nurse to a set of scales.

  “You’re a surrogate?” the nurse asked, surprised.

  “Good lord no, we’re…” Annabelle looked stuck for words.

  “An unconventional family,” Cain helped. The nurse looked confused but not horrified.

  “To each their own. We get all sorts in here, but as long as you love your baby, who am I to judge?” she said with ease. If I wasn’t already speechless, I would have been now.

  The nurse went on to ask Annabelle a few questions about her diet, sleeping, cramping. Finally she had Annabelle climb onto the exam table, and we waited for the doctor. An Indian man with gentle eyes and a kind smile joined us, his white coat and stethoscope giving him away. He didn’t seem surprised to see Cain and me in the room; the nurse must have given him a heads-up.

  “Annabelle, how are we doing today?” he asked with a low, calm voice.

  “Nervous, I just want to know if everything is alright.” The doctor raised Annabelle’s top over her stomach, and I was compelled to look away and give her some privacy, but my eyes were glued to the tight round stomach that was definitely beginning to resemble a very pregnant woman.

  “You’re just a little over twenty weeks, so we should get a good look at everything today.” The doctor squeezed what looked a lot like lubricant on her stomach. If he had applied it anywhere else, I would have bolted. He then began to run a smooth device around the skin of her tummy, watching a screen above our heads intently. After a little poking and prodding, he began to point things out. “There’s a hand,” he moved the device a little, “and another hand.” I couldn’t look away; my mind a tangle of disbelief as I came to the sharp realization that I was looking at a real baby, Cain’s baby. “Your baby looks healthy, two hands, two feet, ten fingers, and I’m fairly sure ten toes. Heart rate is perfect.” It was then I noticed the distinct sound of a rapid thump coming from a machine to Annabelle’s side. “Would you like to know the baby’s sex?”

  “Yes!” we all practically shouted in unison.

  The doctor laughed, and Annabelle smiled, her gaze settling on Cain who was gripping my hand so tight I’m sure the circulation had stopped long ago. I should have felt jealous at the tender expression they exchanged, but the fact he was holding me so tightly was reassuring, as if he needed me there, right at his side.

  After a little maneuvering and muttering by the good doctor, he finally chuckled. “You have one very healthy baby boy.”

  “Are you sure?” Cain exclaimed, his grip on my hand almost painful.

  “That right there.” The doctor froze the video image and pointed to something that didn’t look anything what he was suggesting. “That is not a finger.”

  A tear slipped down Annabelle’s cheek, and Cain released my hand to wipe it away.

  “A boy,” she whispered.

  “We’re going to have a son,” Cain replied, a little awe in his voice. This was the awkward moment I had been dreading. A moment where jealousy, disappointment, and fear rivaled with the utter joy of witnessing the growth of something so universally innocent and fragile. When Cain stepped back and engulfed me in a warm hug, Annabelle watched us with an unexplainable acceptance, and I knew I was about to join her with the tears.

  “Think you’ll be able to handle another Cain?” Annabelle asked me as the doctor wiped away the goo from her tummy.

  “I have some tricks up my sleeve,” I whispered, my voice tight with emotion. For a split second, I marveled at the continuing craziness that was my life. This baby had drawn Annabelle, Cain, and I together into a very unconventional family unit. I was healthy, sober, and precariously close to unparalleled happiness which made me realize this baby was not an inconvenience or something to be jealous of. He was to be treasured, and I’d be damned if I didn’t feel a connection to the unborn child.

  “What do you think of this?” Annabelle asked, distracting me from the careful perusal of calming baby music CDs. Annabelle held up a tiny little jumpsuit designed to look like a minuscule tuxedo.

  “I don’t think it will fit you.” I chuckled with a smile.

  “Hilarious.” Annabelle smirked. We were shopping for baby supplies, just the two of us, me and Annabelle, alone. Annabelle had demanded a little girl time with me, sen
ding Cain away to do whatever Cain does when he is effectively dismissed. He had graciously left me with his credit card, a kiss to my cheek, and a whisper to call if I needed anything. I have no doubt he saw the silent panic in my eyes as he dropped us off at the mall entrance. I have no idea what Annabelle was thinking by asking me to go baby shopping with her. Surely she had girlfriends she could so this with, even family.

  “Why did you want me to come shopping with you?” I blurted out.

  Annabelle looked outwardly calm at my question, but I still noticed a sadness in her eyes that hadn’t been there a few moments ago. She shrugged. “I thought you’d be all happy to get your grubby hands on Cain’s credit card. We can visit that cute little lingerie store we saw on the way in, and do a little pre-natal baby shopping for ourselves.”

  “I have my own money, but I’m not adverse to spending Cain’s. He owes me a hundred dollars from a bet he lost last month anyway. What I don’t understand is why you aren’t with your friends and family at such a special time. Surely your mom would like to be a part of all this.”

  Annabelle turned away and for a moment I thought she was going to ignore my question. When she finally turned back to face me, all the bravado she had been wearing today was gone and in its place stood a fragile and scared girl. “I don’t have all that many friends right now, Violet. My parents are strict Catholics, and I was raised in a community of other strict Catholics, so as you can imagine, my being pregnant not only out of wedlock but to a man who has left me for another woman isn’t exactly a joyous moment for my family and friends. My mom and dad are supporting me as best they can, but they are embarrassed by me. Being a single mother isn’t the blissful, perfect life they had planned for me. They are trying and they haven’t tossed me out onto the streets, but I’m not about to push my luck.” She grabbed another cute little baby onesie off the stand; this one had a small hood with cute little teddy bear ears. “What about this one?”

  I couldn't help but laugh. The hurt I saw in Annabelle’s face had me racing to embrace her in an awkward hug. “Oh shit, I wasn’t laughing at you. I swear it, Annabelle. It’s just that Cain has an onesie almost identical to that one.” I pulled back to look her in the eyes. “If you don’t buy it, I will. He’s going to love it.”

  “Oh,” Annabelle stammered. “Okay, then.”

  I sighed and released her from the affection I seemed so inept at giving. “I hate to put this so bluntly, but screw your family and their righteousness. You are going to make a wonderful mother, Cain is going to make a wonderful father, and I’m going to make a wonderful…other…mother.”

  Annabelle’s sad eyes lit up. “Other mother, I like that.”

  “I hope you don’t mind me saying,” came an unfamiliar voice from behind us, “the jumpsuit is cute and all, but it’s highly impractical for a newborn. The hood can be dangerous when they are sleeping, and they’ll do that for the majority of the day for the first few months. It’d be better to buy it in a slightly larger size for when the baby is bigger and stick to warm, button up jumpsuits while the baby is little.”

  Annabelle and I turned to stare at a man who watched us with a cute little girl swinging her legs in a stroller before him. He was a good few years older than both of us, with greying hair and warm hazel eyes. Older, but hot as hell in a Patrick Dempsey kind of way. He blushed at our silent attention.

  “Sorry for intruding,” he said sheepishly. “But I made that mistake after Willow was born, bought the cutest outfits in threes. Shoes, hats, you name it, I bought it. I’ve got most of it at home, still in the packaging I purchased it in.” He automatically handed his daughter a sippie cup at her outstretched hand. “In fact, I’ve got a stack of stuff at home just sitting boxes, a crib, changing table, all sorts of stuff. I was going to give it all to Goodwill, but if you need anything, you’re more than welcome to go through it.”

  Annabelle and I were apparently still speechless. It was me who recovered first. “Wow, that’s very generous of you. What if you and your wife decide to have another baby though?” The man rubbed the back of his neck, and an uneasy look crossed his features.

  “My wife passed away not long after Willow was born. She had breast cancer and refused treatment so she could bring Willow safely into the world.”

  It seemed I was speechless again. Thankfully Annabelle had recovered by now. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

  The man gave her a small smile and pulled his wallet out. “My name’s Toby, here is my card; my number’s on there. If you and your partner would like to come by sometime and see what I’ve got, just call and we’ll set up a time.”

  I glanced at Annabelle as she took the card. I had never been renowned for playing Cupid, but right now, in this moment, I felt as though Toby was a gift from God that I could not ignore.

  “Annabelle doesn’t have a partner, she’s single,” I spluttered out.

  Annabelle looked absolutely horrified, but the slow grin on Toby’s face turned that mortified expression to a deep blush.

  “I’m sorry to hear that; being a single parent is difficult,” Toby said, sincerity clearly evident in his deep voice.

  “She’s not exactly a single parent. The father is still around, actually the father is my boyfriend. We’re like the Brady Bunch of the twenty-first century.” Apparently I had developed verbal diarrhea, and Annabelle’s audible groan confirmed that I might have said a little too much. Toby took it all in stride though.

  “For a moment I thought maybe you were lesbians,” he confessed.

  “If I was gay, I would have better sense than to date someone like Violet who clearly has the inability to shut her mouth,” Annabelle growled.

  Toby chuckled as he leaned forward and handed Annabelle his card. Toby Winters, Graphics Designer. Huh, handsome, single father, knowledgeable in all things baby, employed. Toby was ticking all the boxes.

  “Willow baby!” squealed a shop assistant, racing away from the now quiet desk. The little girl began kicking in an attempt to break free of her confining stroller. The woman was pretty with a head of strawberry blonde hair and big brown eyes. She was younger than Toby, probably a few years younger than me, twenty-three, twenty-four. I sighed with disappointment.

  A handsome, single father like Toby appeared to be quite the catch; he also appeared already caught. Toby helped unbuckle Willow from her stroller, and she slid to her feet and stumbled towards the woman. “Oh my god, you grew overnight!” the woman exclaimed, then she tilted her head in thought. “Did your daddy give you ice cream last night?” The little girl laughed and attempted to say what sounded like ‘yes, ice cream’.

  “Traitor,” Toby said fondly, watching his little girl with the woman. I let out a little sigh, taking in Toby and the woman who looked perfect together.

  “My sister,” Toby eventually explained, with a nod in the woman’s direction. Ewww, not so perfect after all.

  “Well, we had better get going,” Annabelle said, stuffing Toby’s card into her bag. “It was nice meeting you.” She took my arm and began dragging me toward the doorway.

  “Likewise, and don’t forget to call me if you’re interested in looking at what baby stuff I have, or even if you want to chat. I work from home, so my schedule is flexible.”

  I gave Toby a bright smile. “Oh, she’ll be calling soon, I promise.”

  Once we were clear of the door, Annabelle let go of my arm. “What was all that about?” she hissed.

  “That was about me helping to pave your path to Toby.”

  “What does that even mean?” Annabelle sighed with a little irritation.

  “It means, that handsome single father was totally into you, and I’ve laid the path. Now if you want to walk down it, all you have to do is call him.”

  Annabelle shook her head. “There is no way he was interested in me. I’m pregnant.”

  I raised a brow as I glanced at her obvious protruding stomach. “I’m pretty sure he didn’t miss that fact. You think pregnancy
makes you repellant to male interest? Annabelle, just because you are cooking a baby in there doesn’t make you unattractive, and furthermore, Toby is a single daddy. You’re kind of a single mommy. You’re perfect for each other.”

  When we reached the lingerie store Annabelle had previously mentioned, she pushed open the door and made a beeline for the maternity bras.

  “I’m not sure now is the right time to be dating anyway,” she continued to argue.

  “If anyone should realize life doesn’t always come perfectly packaged with a pretty bow, it should be you, Annabelle. Sometimes opportunities fall at our feet, and for one reason or another, you might just want to step around them and move on, but life is too short for stepping around chances. If you liked Toby, call him, if only for friendship and someone who has traveled the single parent road. He no doubt has plenty of valuable advice. He gave you the perfect in; you can go check out his baby stuff, grab some furniture to fill that empty nursery in your empty apartment you’re moving into next week, and take it from there.”

  Annabelle nibbled nervously on her lower lip. “I’m going to get bigger though, like humongous bigger, and I’ve already got a couple of stretch marks.”