Marx Girl

by T L Swan

  My horrified eyes rise to meet Abbie’s and she smiles. “Fifty bucks says it’s a boy.”

  “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.” I begin to fan my face with my hand to try and stop myself from having a complete panic attack.

  “Will you stop saying that? God isn’t going to bloody help you now.”

  I close my eyes. “Oh, I just want Ben to be home. Please don’t tell anyone this, he needs to know first.”

  “Of course. He’ll be here soon, don’t worry. Make an appointment to go to your doctor tomorrow and see what he says,” she replies.

  We walk out into the living room and flop onto the lounge.

  “Are you sure it’s Ben’s and not Eric’s?”

  My eyes snap to her and my face falls in horror. “Don’t even say that.”

  I shake my head and go back through my dates in my head. “No, I definitely haven’t slept with Eric since my last period.”

  “Thank God. Wouldn’t that be a fine mess?”

  I put my fingers to my temples. “Don’t even say it.”

  “I’ll Google it.” She types into her phone.

  How do you fall pregnant on the pill?

  She reads and then nods, leaving me to watch her. “What does it say?” I ask.

  “It says that you should have stuck to anal.”

  “For fuck’s sake, Abbie, this is serious!” I cry.

  She laughs. “It says, if the time you take the pill differs, or if you have taken a course of antibiotics, if you miss a pill…” She frowns as she reads on. “If you leave your pills in the car.” She screws up her face. “That’s random. Apparently they lose their potency if they get overheated.” She looks up at me. “Done any of those?”

  The blood drains from my face. “Yep, all of them.” I sit forward and put my head into my hands. “This is a fucking disaster,” I whisper.

  “Why is it? You’re engaged, you’re with the right guy. You have a house and are both financially stable. Why is this a disaster? It seems pretty perfect to me.”

  I stare at her.

  She smiles as she takes my hand and squeezes it. “This is a gift, Didge. This baby is your gift. Ben’s going to be a daddy. You get to grow Ben’s baby inside of you.”

  I smile softly as the first glimmer of excitement peeks through.

  “He’ll make a great dad,” I whisper.

  She puts her arm around me and pulls me to her. “And you’ll make a great mum. This little baby is going to be so loved.”

  I smile, despite my unshed tears, and nod.

  “But I’m never babysitting,” she whispers, breaking the serious moment.

  I giggle. That is such an Abbie thing to say.

  “You’re going to be fine, and this is all in the grand plan of how your life goes. Nothing happens by accident, Didge.”

  I hug her. “You’re so wise for a sneaky slut.” I smile against her hair.

  She laughs out loud and then shakes her head. “My slut circle is shrinking.” She widens her eyes. “Fast.”

  The nights are the worst.

  I lie in the dark and worry about Ben. I glance at the clock and it’s 3:00 a.m. What time is it there? I do the maths. They’re nine hours behind us, so it’s 4:00 p.m. yesterday. It was cold there yesterday, hitting a maximum of 5 degrees.

  Is he warm enough?

  Has he slept?

  Is he safe?

  I get a vision of him wearing his army camouflage gear, in a dusty, cold dessert, and I hear machine-gun fire, and my heart constricts.

  He’s a hero.

  My hero.

  What must he be going though right now? I think back to me crying like a baby and begging him not to go, and I’m so fucking annoyed at myself. He had to ask for me to be an army wife and hold it together until he got home.

  I shouldn’t have put that burden on him.

  I should have been stronger… for him. I know he’ll be over there worrying about me now.

  Damn it, why am I such a cry baby?

  I put my hand down on my stomach and I smile. Our baby, our baby is living inside of me and I just desperately want to tell him.

  The more I’ve gotten used to the idea, the more I think he’s going to be excited.

  I’m going to go the doctor in the morning to find out my due date, and I think I’ll push ahead and book in a wedding date, too. I want to get married before I’m showing. Ben did say he didn’t care about any of the details, just as long as I was there. He told me to book whatever I wanted.

  I smile. That’s such a Ben thing to say. He never has been a fussy details man.

  He couldn’t care less about the semantics.

  I get up and turn on the light, getting my diary out.

  Six weeks from now makes it late December, and then everyone could stay in Australia for Christmas.

  Yes, it makes sense to do it then. Let’s do this. I dial Adrian’s number, despite the time. It’s one good thing about being on the other side of the world from him. He’s always awake when I’m supposed to be asleep.

  “Hey, babe.” He smiles down the phone.

  “Hi.” I smile. “You sound happy.”

  “Ah, yeah, I am. Why are you awake, though?”

  “I’m just…” I frown as I try to articulate my thoughts.

  “He’s going to be okay, Didge,” he interrupts.

  Poor Adrian had to deal with me crying all the way to Australia. He then spent the night with me before he had to turn around and fly straight back because he had to work.

  He is the most beautiful friend I could ever ask for.

  “I know,” I whisper. I don’t want this to turn into a whining session. Poor Adrian, he must be sick of me.

  “I was thinking that I might book the wedding for six-weeks’ time. That would make it around late December. Does that suit you to come home for Christmas?”

  “Of course it does.” He pauses for a moment. “I think we’re all going to Kamala for January, anyway, aren’t we?”

  I nod. “That’s right. We could maybe fly from here together.”

  I smile as I imagine my first Christmas with Ben and our growing baby. It’s going to be so special.

  “So, the wedding…” he continues. “What do you want to wear?”

  “I don’t know.” I think for a moment. “I might just look around a bit.”

  “Yeah, okay; I’ll look, too.” He thinks for a second. “Traditional?”

  I twist my mouth. “I don’t know. Maybe if it’s a fitted traditional style.” Hmm, I wonder whether or not I’ll be showing at all in six weeks. Maybe I should wear something looser, just in case.

  “Yeah, I got you. Okay. Any thoughts on the venue?” he asks.

  I blow out a breath. “No, I might go and look at some places with Mum tomorrow afternoon.” I feel the urge to tell him about the baby, but I hold my tongue. Ben needs to know first. I’m kind of annoyed with myself that I did the test with Abbie.

  I wanted Ben to be the first to know.

  “You okay?” he asks.

  “Yeah, I’m just freaking myself out over here.”

  “It’s totally understandable, baby. He’ll be home soon, maybe even tomorrow.”

  “He said he was probably just going to turn up and surprise me,” I whisper.

  “And he will. You’ll hear a knock on the door and it will be him.”

  I smile as the vision runs through my mind. “Okay, I’ll let you go.”

  “Try and get some sleep, hey?”

  “Thanks, babe. Love you.”

  “I love you, too.” He hangs up.

  “Congratulations, it’s a positive result.” The doctor smiles.

  My stomach does a little flip and I smile. “Thank you.”

  “We’ll run some blood tests now to read your hormone levels and confirm a due date.”

  “Okay.”

  “And I will give you a referral for an obstetrician. You’ll need to book in almost immediately because they’re booked out.”r />
  “Do I go and see one now, or…?”

  “No, you’ll make the appointment for when you’re around twelve weeks into the pregnancy, when there’s less chance you’ll miscarry.”

  My stomach drops. Oh, don’t even say that out loud.

  He buzzes the nurse and she comes in. “Yes, Doctor?”

  “Can you take some bloods for Bridget, please?”

  “Of course, Doctor.”

  “Can you make Bridget an appointment for a week’s time, please, so we can run through these test results? I’ll do a scan on Bridget then, too, to check everything is going well.”

  “Of course; this way, dear.” She smiles kindly.

  “Thank you for your time.” I nod to my doctor. “See you next week.”

  “And this room through here is where we have the dance floor.” The wedding planner smiles.

  Mum and I are beaming as we follow her through the function centre. We have looked at three venues today and we looked at three yesterday.

  “I think this one is my favourite,” Mum whispers.

  “Mine, too,” I whisper back.

  “Can you do the middle weekend in December?” I ask.

  She looks through her diary. “I’ll have to get back to you on that one. We do have a booking, but they haven’t paid their second deposit, so I’m unsure what’s going on.” She looks up at me. “Can I call you this week as soon as I find out?”

  “That would be great.”

  I watch her write down her reminder to call me.

  We all shake hands. “Thanks for your time.” I smile. “Hopefully that weekend comes up.”

  Mum and I turn and walk out, and she links her arm through mine. “Coffee and cake time,” Mum says.

  I laugh. “Did you only come with me for coffee and cake?”

  “Of course, dear. Why else?”

  “So, who is Ben having as his groomsmen?” Mum asks as she blows into her coffee cup. We are in Oscar’s and, as promised, are about to eat our weight in chocolate cake.

  “He said he wanted Jed and Rick as groomsmen. The other boys will come to the wedding, though.”

  “Okay. Well, you need to get these invitations done almost immediately because people will need notice to travel internationally.”

  I nod. “Yeah, okay. I might buy them and then just get them printed when we find out about this venue.”

  “What ones did you like again? Have I seen them?”

  “Adrian sent me a link to a company that did one for a wedding he went to recently. He said it was amazing. Nice and simple. Understated.”

  “In America?”

  “Yes. I might just order them today so they get here in time and we get them printed locally.”

  Mum smiles broadly as she watches me.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Look at you, all beautiful and grown up.” She rubs my forearm that’s resting on the table between us. “Organising your wedding to your dream man. You are just glowing, Didge.”

  I smile and I just want to blurt the words I’m pregnant, but I stop myself.

  This secret-keeping is hard.

  I check my phone for the thousandth time today. I just wish he would call and tell me he’s all right.

  Mum sips her coffee as she watches me. “Still no word?”

  I shake my head. “No.” I pause. “It’s been eight days.”

  “Well, the mission was in three from when he left, so I imagine he’ll be on his way home by now.”

  I force a smile and nod. “Yeah, I was thinking that.”

  Our cake arrives and the waitress puts the two giant pieces down in front of us.

  I exhale deeply. “I’m going to need a bigger wedding dress at this rate.”

  Mum smiles broadly. “Enjoy it. Cake fixes everything.”

  I turn my eggs in the frying pan. I’ve just got home from the gym with Abbie. It’s 7:00 on Wednesday morning.

  I’m thinking of picking up some casual work. It’s suddenly dawned on me I won’t be able to work in eight months, and I love working. I’m going to throw myself into something I love for the next couple of months.

  The doorbell rings.

  My eyes widen. It’s him.

  He’s here!

  I run to the door and swing it open.

  There, in front of me, stand two soldiers in full uniform. They hold their hats over their chests, their faces solemn.

  My face falls.

  “Bridget Marx?

  “Yes.”

  “My name is Corporal Stuart, and this is our chaplin, Corporal Donohue. May we come in?”

  Oh, no.

  My heart starts to beat hard. “What’s wrong?” I whisper.

  They exchange looks. “Can we come in?” the chaplin asks again.

  I stand back and they walk past me into my living room. I close the door behind them.

  My eyes search theirs.

  “It is with our deepest regret to inform you that your husband, Ben Statham, has been killed in the line of duty.”

  My eyes instantly fill with tears. “W-what?” I whisper.

  “He died a hero, Miss Marx, but he was killed when a landmine exploded just outside of Syria yesterday.”

  I stare at them. No.

  No.

  No.

  I hear my heart pounding in my ears.

  The tears break free, and roll down my face.

  “Can we stay with you until you call someone, please?”

  “He’s dead?” I croak, looking between them.

  “I’m afraid so. We hope you take comfort in knowing that it was quick and he suffered no pain. He died a hero, and saved thousands of lives in his nine deployments.”

  I step back from them as agony rips through me. “He’s dead?” I whisper.

  “We’re so sorry, dear. Can we call someone for you?”

  I stare at them as my whole world crashes down around me.

  “Where is your phone?” the chaplin asks.

  I point to the table and he goes and retrieves it, bringing it back and passing it to me. “Can you unlock it please, Bridget?”

  I stare at him through my tears, unable to process his request.

  “Please…”

  I press the code on autopilot.

  “Who shall I call?”

  I grab onto the back of the chair to hold myself up. “My… my… mother.”

  He dials a number and I feel my chest constrict.

  “No answer. Another name?” he asks.

  “Brock.”

  I shake my head. It can’t be. No… it can’t be.

  No.

  No.

  “Hello, Brock.” He listens. “This is Corporal Stuart and I’m with Bridget Marx.” He listens for a moment. “Her husband has been killed in the line of duty and I was wondering if you can come over immediately to care for her, please?”

  He listens for a moment.

  “Thank you.” He hangs up.

  The tears continue to run down my face as I stare at this stranger’s face.

  Is this really happening?

  “Take a seat, dear, and I’ll make you some tea,” he says.

  I drop to sit on the lounge, staring into space.

  He’s not coming home.

  The baby… he didn’t know about our baby.

  I drop my head. No.

  They talk, but I can’t hear anything they say because I’m miles away.

  I’m with Ben… in Syria.

  My eyes rise to them. “Where is he?” I ask.

  “He’s in a morgue in camp in Syria.”

  I screw up my face in tears. “He’s in a morgue?” I whisper. I get an image of him, injured and cold in a morgue… alone.

  Alone.

  They drop their heads.

  “Get out,” I cry. “Get out of my house!”

  They both stare at me, their eyes filled with sorrow.

  “Get out!” I scream as I jump from my seat.

  The door bursts open and it’s Bro
ck. His face falls when he sees me, and he scoops me up into his arms and holds me tight. I cry out loud.

  “No, no, no,” I cry as I pound his chest. “Get them out of my house.” I fall to the floor as he battles to keep me upright. “No, Brock. Nooooooooo.”

  I stare at the wall in my bedroom. It’s been twenty hours now. The wallpaper has a strange pattern in it, one that I’ve never noticed before.

  I wonder, did Ben notice that pattern?

  My stomach growls from hunger, but I’m too weak to feed it.

  I’ve got nothing left.

  Abbie, Brock, and Mum haven’t left my side. Mum and Brock have temporarily moved in.

  The house is silent.

  The sky is grey.

  Every breath is a struggle.

  They’re talking and the television is on, but it’s just white noise.

  Nothing matters anymore.

  Because he’s gone.

  Ben never got his happy ending.

  I couldn’t save him.

  And I’m mad.

  I’m mad at the universe because, out of everyone I know, he deserved it the most.

  How will I go on?

  “Hey,” I hear Mum call from the kitchen.

  “Where is she?” I hear Natasha’s voice, and my face instantly scrunches up as my tears threaten to fall.

  They have arrived from L.A.

  “In her bedroom,” Brock answers quietly.

  Then I see Tash standing at the door, and I feel so sad that I don’t think I can do this.

  “Baby,” she whispers as she rushes to me.

  I curl into a ball, the pain too raw to deal with, and she lies down next to me and holds me while I weep.

  “It’s okay, it’s okay,” she whispers through her own tears. “We’re here with you.” She kisses my hair. “We’re here with you, baby.”

  “Didge?” Joshua says softly. “We have to talk about the funeral. The arrangements need to be finalised.”

  I’m sitting on the lounge, Adrian is next to me, and Tash is sitting at my feet. Mum, Brock, and Abbie are sitting at the table.

  “I want him to be buried next to his sister,” I say.

  Joshua and Natasha’s eyes meet.

  “He has a twin sister, Meika. She died when she was twelve. I want him to be buried with her.” Josh’s face falls. “Where is that?” he asks.