by Lacey Black
A little while later, after the delicious cupcakes are consumed, Matty announces that it’s time for Travis and I to open our presents. Avery and Maddox place two chairs up front next to the big, gift-covered table and indicate for us to have a seat.
Brooklyn helps deliver and open the presents as Avery writes everything we’ve received down on a sheet of paper. I want to get excited, really I do, with each gift I open, but all I can think about is the fact that Travis is sitting next to me in person but he’s a million miles away. He’s participating in the act of opening presents, but he lacks the enthusiasm that I would expect him to have. The enthusiasm he’s displayed this entire pregnancy.
After the agonizing task of opening the gifts and the thank you’s have been said, I glance over at Travis who is sitting in the chair with a far-off look on his face. “What’s the matter?” I ask, concerned.
“I was just wondering where in the hell we’re going to put all of this baby stuff,” he says and makes eye contact with me for the first time since the gifts started.
“Your mom has already mentioned that we can leave them here until the house is ready,” I tell him.
“IF the house ever gets ready,” he mumbles. “It’ll never get done if I don’t get back there and work on it,” he adds.
“Then you should go, Travis. If that’s where you’d rather be, then go. Don’t stay here on my account,” I say as I stand up and walk away.
He’s behind me in an instant and grabs a hold of my upper arm - not hard enough to hurt - and gently spins me around to face him. “I didn’t mean it like that, Josselyn. Stop being dramatic,” he says firmly.
“So, is this the famous Travis I’ve been hearing about?” I hear my mother’s voice say behind me.
I turn around and come face to face with my mother and Karlie again. “Yes, Mom, Karlie, this is Travis. Travis, my mother, Michelle, and my sister, Karlie.”
“Nice to finally meet you, Mrs. McCray. Karlie,” he adds with a polite shake of hands and nod of his head.
“Likewise, Travis. It’s so nice to meet such an ambitious, hardworking young man. I’m glad someone has the desire to work hard and achieve their goals,” she adds with a bitter swipe of her tongue without even glancing at me. But, I know exactly who she’s talking about.
“Why thank you for the compliment. However, I’m not sure who you would be referring to. Surely you’re not talking about Josselyn. In fact, I believe her to be one of the strongest, hardest working women I know. She may still be trying to figure out what her dreams and goals are in this life, but I assure you that she’s doing what she wants, what makes her happy none the less. I’m proud of her and the woman she is today. I’m honored to call her the mother of my child. She’s going to be an amazing mother to our little boy,” he says.
My mother just stares at him for a few moments, opening and closing her mouth like a fish out of water, before she finally shakes her head. “Good. I’m glad she’s happy. That’s all I’ve ever really wanted for her,” she says. “Josselyn, I think it’s time for your sister and I to head back towards Chicago. We can’t stay since we both have to work tomorrow,” she adds with air kisses to both of my cheeks. Yes, because heaven forbid my mother actually take a day off of work and spend time with me.
“Thank you both for coming,” I reply and give air kisses to Karlie. “It was a pleasant surprise.”
“You be sure to call us when the baby arrives. We’ll try to make it down for a visit,” Karlie says before her and my mother turn to walk away.
I exhale deeply as I watch them head over and shake hands with Travis’s mother before they’re retreating back around the house and towards the driveway.
“Come on, Joss. Why don’t you go have a seat with Mom while I grab some guys to take the gifts up to a spare room,” Travis says.
An hour later, we’re barely inside the front door of the apartment when Travis stops, still holding the door open. “So, it’s early enough that I think I can get a bit more done on the house. I left it in quite a mess with a few started projects so I’d like to head back out there and work a little more.”
“Okay,” I mumble as I get a glass of water from the kitchen, keeping my back to the man talking.
“I’ll be home later on,” he adds, still standing at the open door.
“When can I expect you back?” I ask out of habit, but know that the answer is going to crush me.
“I don’t know. See you later,” he says and quickly turns around. But this time, he doesn’t even give me a kiss before he runs out the door.
He’s returning to his mistress. A twenty-five hundred square foot mistress who consumes his thoughts and monopolizes his time. Something that I can’t even compete with anymore.
And for the first time, I wonder if I even want to try.
*****
I’m in a funk the next day. It’s a Monday and I have a doctor’s appointment today. Dr. Freeman was gone last week so my appointment from Friday was bumped to today. I’ve also been going every two weeks for the past couple of weeks.
My blood pressure is still teetering on borderline problematic, so Dr. Freeman wants to monitor me closely over the next several weeks.
I didn’t see Travis last night like he said I would, though I didn’t honestly think I would anyway. I stumbled on his dirty shorts and t-shirt this morning on the bathroom floor so I know he came home at some point. Since I didn’t get to see him, I sent him a text early this morning reminding him of today’s appointment. I have more conversations with his cell phone than I do with him in person anymore.
It doesn’t bother me that I’m sitting here in the small exam room waiting on the doctor by myself. Travis has been late to every appointment we’ve had over the last two months. I guess I should be thankful that he shows up at all, right?
Dr. Freeman comes in but her normally friendly demeanor is void today. “Good afternoon, Josselyn. I’m going to get right to it today,” she says as she takes a seat on the stool in front of me. “Your blood pressure concerns me greatly. It’s up to 140/90 and not going down. So, I’m diagnosing you with preeclampsia which is a term for pregnancy related high blood pressure. It actually occurs in five to ten percent of all pregnancies so it’s fairly common. However, still very serious. You also have a little sugar in your urine sample this week,” Dr. Freeman says.
My heart beats double time as I listen to Dr. Freeman go over the plan of attack. “With mild preeclampsia, our goal is to lower your blood pressure. So, we’re going to try to control it with diet and exercise first, and if necessary, medication. Right now, I’m going to put you on a low sodium diet and want you to get as much exercise as you can. Walking will help - around the block, through the park, anything. Just walk. Push the fluids and water as much as you can too,” she adds.
After we go over the warning signs to watch for, Dr. Freeman sends me on my way with another appointment in two weeks. I’m scared as I leave the office. My pregnancy has been almost text book for the first two-thirds, but now things are different. It’s nerve-racking. Terrifying.
I head home in a daze, not really sure how I drove the entire way. I walk into the apartment but the empty place feels like it’s closing in on me. I grab my keys again and decide to head for a walk. Dr. Freeman said that will help, so walking it is.
I make it two blocks from the apartment and am approaching the park when I see a familiar set of faces. Avery and Brooklyn are walking towards the park as well coming at me from the other side.
“Hey,” she says when she sees me and we’re close enough to talk.
“Hi, guys. How are you, Brooklyn?” I ask as we all walk into the entrance of the park together.
“Good! I’m going to swing,” she says before taking off towards the nearest set of swings.
“How are you feeling?” I ask Avery as we find a spot in the shade to watch Brooklyn swing.
“Good. Only nauseous a few times, but no vomiting which is a huge relief,” she tells m
e.
“You were pretty sick with Brooklyn, right?”
“God, yes. I threw up for months,” she says with a laugh. “And how about you? Didn’t you have a doctor’s appointment today?”
“I did,” I reply and look down at the ground. “Actually, she diagnosed me with preeclampsia.”
“Really? How bad is it?” Avery asks, concern etched all over her beautiful face.
“It’s mild right now, but we’re going to monitor it. She wants me to eat a low sodium diet and get exercise which is why you found me out walking this evening.”
“Well, anytime you want to walk, just call me. Maddox is working tonight but if he’s off work, he’d be happy to keep Brooklyn home with him,” she says.
“Thank you for the offer. I might just take you up on that.”
“Where’s my brother? Wait, let me guess…working on the house?”
“I guess,” I whisper.
“What does he say about this?”
“He doesn’t know,” I tell her and stare at the stick on the ground out in front of me. It’s suddenly a very interesting stick.
“What do you mean, he doesn’t know?”
“He didn’t show up for the appointment today,” I say, hurt uncontrollably filling my gut once again.
“What? I’m going to kill him,” she says with fierceness and fire filled eyes.
“It’s okay, Avery. He’s so busy on the house.”
“When was the last time you saw him, Josselyn?” she asks as she glances back to the swings and watches Brooklyn swing for a few moments.
“Last night after he dropped me off at home following the baby shower.”
“He didn’t even stay home last night?” she asks incredulously. I don’t answer her. What’s the use? I fight the tears that fill my eyes and do everything I can to keep them from spilling out of my eyes, but it’s no use. They fall anyway.
Avery has me in a fierce hug before I realize it, embracing me and comforting me with everything she has. “It’s okay, Josselyn.”
“I’m sorry. Just ignore me. My hormones are off the charts lately,” I tell her as I sniffle and take swipes at drying my eyes.
“No, it’s not okay. He’s being a jerk. I understand his need to finish the house, but he’s doing it the wrong way. I hope you know how much he cares for you. Travis worships you and isn’t thinking straight right now. He put so much pressure on himself that he’s not himself, okay?”
I can’t admit that I doubt her words. Yes, Travis is being a jerk, and yes, he needs to finish the house, but I don’t believe that he feels the same as he did a few months ago. He’s different now. The way he acts towards me and treats me is different now, and not in a good way. He’s distant and stand-offish. It’s like he’s already checked out.
I give Avery a small smile and nod my head as if I agree with what she’s saying. “I should get going,” I tell her. “I need to walk through the park and then head back towards home.”
“Okay. Promise me you’ll talk to Travis about his behavior,” she says with a warm hug.
“I promise,” I tell her, instantly feeling guilty because I have no intention of speaking with Travis about it. I wave good-bye to Brooklyn and promise to see her soon, though I don’t know if that’s a promise I will be able to keep either.
That night at home, I can’t keep the tears at bay. They seem to come and come uncontrollably as I get ready for bed. I lie in bed watching mindless television all the while my mind is racing at the situation I find myself in with Travis. I’m no closer to a resolution as I drift off into a fitful sleep.
*****
The next morning, my bladder wakes me up before six. When I step into the bathroom, I’m amazed that I don’t trip over a pile of clothes on the floor. In fact, when I glance around, there’s no sign at all that Travis came home last night. His side of the bed is virtually unruffled, the coffee pot is clean and empty, and his dirty clothes are nowhere to be found. Travis didn’t come home last night.
I panic. Did something happen to him? Is he hurt or in the hospital somewhere? Is there someone else? I can’t help all of the different scenarios that play out in my mind.
I grab my cell phone and check for a missed call. Nothing. There’s no text message, no word. I dial his number quickly and it goes straight to voice mail. I try again - okay, eight more times - before I finally give up on calling him. I type out a text message before I can stop myself.
R U OK?
But I get no reply. After several unanswered minutes, I start to panic and decide to call his dad. Mr. Stevens answers almost immediately.
“Hello?” he booms into the phone.
“Hi, Mr. Stevens, it’s Josselyn.”
“Oh, hi. Everything okay?” he asks, concern evident in his question.
“I’m actually trying to get a hold of Travis. He’s not answering his phone.”
“Oh, well he just left the office a few minutes ago to head out to the jobsite. Do you want me to get a hold of him for you?” he asks.
“No, that’s okay. As long as he’s there, that’s what I was looking for,” I tell him. A few minutes later, after a little polite conversation that I barely recall, I hang up.
So, Travis is fine, alive and at work. He just didn’t come home last night. I walk around in a daze for the next two hours before getting in the shower to get ready for work.
All day, I make small talk with the townsfolk and deliver lunch plates and drinks. But my mind is not at the diner. My swollen feet are killing me, my back is achy, and my heart is filled with grief.
At four o’clock, I head home from working my shift at the diner and force myself to go for a small walk. I have yet to hear from Travis today - or yesterday for that matter. I fix myself a tasteless, bland, saltless slice of fish and steamed vegetables for supper and submerge myself in more mindless television. The hours crawl by, lonely and unforgiving, until I fall asleep alone in the king size bed we used to share.
The next morning, I awake to the same morning as the one before. No signs of Travis anywhere. He didn’t come home again. My heart breaks in two as the pain and realization washes over me. Travis doesn’t want me.
By noon, I have my bags and boxes packed up and loaded in my car. It took me all morning to slowly make trip after trip down the four floors and out to my car. I pull out my cell phone and dial Matty’s familiar number.
“Hellllllooooooo,” he says with way too much chipper. As soon as I hear his voice, I break down into the sobs I fought all morning while I was packing. “Joss, what’s wrong? Is everything alright?” he asks.
“I’m leaving him, Matty,” I mumble, my heart wrenching as I say the words for the first time out loud.
“Travis? Why?”
“I can’t do this anymore,” I sob. “I’m lonely, Matty. I’m more alone now than I’ve ever been, even when I was trapped at home with my parents who expected more out of me.”
“Where are you going?” he asks quickly.
“I don’t know. I just got everything all packed up in my car,” I tell him with a sniffle.
“Come here. Right now. I’m heading into work for a shoot, but I won’t be long. Rico will be here to let you in. Don’t worry about your stuff, we’ll get it inside when I get home,” he tells me.
I agree with him and promise to not touch my stuff until he gets home. I sign off with the longing to be standing in front of my best friend with his arms securely wrapped around me.
I stand up and feel dizzy instantly. I quickly sit back down and take a few deep, calming breaths. When the dizziness finally subsides, I grab a sheet of paper and write out the message that’s been running through my head for the last few hours. After it’s written, I sign my name and set my key on top of the note. With one last glance around the apartment I’ve called home for the last five months, I head out into the hall, closing the door securely behind me.
I don’t allow myself the cry that’s threatening to come until I’m safely inside o
f Matty’s apartment thirty minutes later. Then, I finally allow myself to cry. And, boy, do I cry. It’s like a river of tears is released from me. My pain, my sorrow, my failure all released at once in a big rush of hot tears. I curl up on the couch and grieve until the sobs have left me spent and boneless. And that’s how Matty finds me an hour after my arrival back in St. Charles.
Chapter Twelve
Travis
I hear the truck coming up the drive and turn around to see who it is. Dad. My father hops out of his truck and walks over to where I’m kicking up clouds of dust while cutting ceramic floor tiles with a wet saw.
“You look like hell, Son,” he says when he’s in front of me.
“I haven’t slept much, Dad.”
“Why not?”
“I’ve been working, Dad. This should not be a surprise to you,” I defend myself, feeling a slight twinge of guilt for my snippy attitude.
“Well, it’s not a surprise to me, but apparently it is to Josselyn,” my dad says, finally drawing my attention away from the saw in my hand.
“Why do you say that?”
“When was the last time you talked to her, Travis?” he asks, gently but firmly.
“I don’t know. A few days ago.”
“When was the last time you went home, Travis?”
“I don’t know, Dad. A few days ago,” I reply, agitated as hell. What game is he playing?
“So you’d have no clue if Josselyn was at home waiting for you or not?” he asks with a stern look in his green eyes.
“What? Why would Josselyn not be at home?” I ask, standing straight up, my entire body ridged and instantly tense from his words.
“She hasn’t been there in two days, Travis, and apparently, neither have you. Longer, if I had to guess.”
“Where the hell is she?” I boom back at my father, full of rage and bewilderment.
“Gone, Travis.”
I can’t even process the words he’s saying to me. He’s still talking as I fish my keys from my pocket and run towards my truck. I’m inside the cab and tearing out of the drive without even a glance back.
