by Frost, H. Q.
When Robert returned, Lilith grinned and stood. “It’s been closer to four hours,” she said while looking at her phone.
When they arrived to the hotel, he looked at her. “Nightcap?”
“Not tonight. I hope to see you when you’re in town again.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek.
“Where to, Lily?” Tony asked, pulling into traffic.
Responding, “Home please,” she pulled her phone out.
MY FREYJA: Heading home. I love you
Knowing Karen had Ian to herself that night, she slowly grew enraged. Broken dishes from her paroxysm kept her up past two; she didn’t want to leave a trace of her fit.
When Ian got Lilith’s text in the morning, he bit his lip until it slipped into a grin from her three simple words.
Finally She could hope for a better day
The sun is waking me up and I don’t even think it’s eight yet. I don’t want to get up, I was up too late. I need darker fucking curtains! I ball my fists and slam my arms into the mattress like a fit throwing teenager and groan. This is my second fit of frustration within ten hours.
Finally opening my eyes, I’m immediately full of anger and hate and it’s only increasing as I sit upright and look around. This is insane, I need to see a fucking doctor.
I begin to wonder if I hate this condo and maybe don’t realize it. Do I hate Ian? Do I hate myself for what I agreed to? Do I hate this huge rock on my finger? No! I laugh out loud and get out of bed. Now I smile because maybe I’m not going to have a terrible day. My anger has subsided after my laughter and I take a deep breath, deciding today will be a good day. As I walk into the bathroom, I stub my toe on the clunky high heel I wore last night.
“Shit!” It fucking hurts so goddam bad!
With a frustrated squeal, I slam the bathroom door closed; no one else is here, I could have peed with the door open, but I wanted to slam something. Resting my elbows on my knees while I sit on the toilet, I put my face into my hands and sit like this for ten minutes; I’m not even using the toilet, I just don’t want to move.
“Shit,” I groan, standing and pulling my shorts up.
Pulling up my shirt, I roll my eyes at the faded cuts. I haven’t had the urge to cut in over a week, but I haven’t seen Ian either and I know once I’m faced with some sort of insecurity, I’m going to lose my mind. Last night wasn’t insecurity, last night was detest that another woman’s hands were probably on the man I’m supposed to marry.
I grab my cellphone and search local physicians. I need to get on depression pills, anxiety pills, energy pills, anything they’ll give me before I lose Ian.
“When were you looking to come in?” the receptionist asks me.
“As soon as possible,” I say, leaning on the counter. I don’t think I’ve stood up straight since getting out of bed.
“I can get you in today at three.”
“Oh.” I didn’t expect it to be that soon.
“I had a cancellation this morning. If you’d like, I’ll book it for late next week. That’s the next availability.”
“No,” I say quickly. “Today’s fine. Thank you.”
“Arrive fifteen minutes early to fill out paperwork, and bring your insurance card with ID.”
“Thank you,” I repeat as fear fills my gut.
Am I ready to face the diagnosis of being crazy, or depressed, or bipolar, whatever? Shit, maybe I should call her back and schedule it for next week. I can’t, I need to face this now and get on pills now before I lose Ian.
It’s been days since I’ve actually dressed, and I don’t mean like last night; last night I was forced into wearing that. I’ve been in a bikini while in Florida—or a sheet—and prior to going, I was in lounging clothes. It feels good slipping into a tight, navy blue sailor dress. I’ve really grown to appreciate dressing like I’m somebody. After sliding on matching blue heals, I do my makeup. As I color my eyelids with a soft gray the image of my mother is disappearing and I’m getting more comfortable staring into the mirror. Finally my lipstick and I feel amazing, best I’ve felt in a few days. Maybe I can cancel this appointment. . . . Maybe I just need to get back into the routine of dressing every morning and doing my makeup and hair and feeling like I matter in this world. Both my jobs require me to be and wear something that’s not me. I’m usually naked with Ashley and having to pretend I’m some headstrong, captivating muse—that I’m definitely not. And my attire for Luxe is dictated by other people. Men, ignorant, perverted men. I need anxiety pills.
***
“Ms. Tudor,” the girl behind the glass calls my name and holds out a clipboard.
With an ‘I’m not crazy’ smile, I sit back down to fill out paperwork, wishing I could have went to my gynecologist. But being I don’t know if she can prescribe depression meds, I’m in a foreign office and going to have to admit to a stranger I’m going crazy. I almost leave three times because I’ve already been waiting fifteen minutes and the longer I wait, the more I want to pretend there isn’t a problem.
“Lilith Tudor.” A male nurse calls my name. I stand, clutching my purse tightly.
He takes my temperature then blood pressure. This part’s no big deal, this I can do. Then he asks why I’m here. I imagine telling him because I’m crazy.
“Anxiety,” I say and he nods, typing into the computer jutting from the wall.
“Dr. Byrne will be right in.” He smiles at me, but I can’t even look at him. I don’t even know what he looks like and I don’t want him to remember my face.
Nervousness is turning my stomach again. My biggest apprehension is being told, ‘yes, Lily, you are crazy’.
When the doctor cracks the door, I jump, but she doesn’t notice.
“Hi, Lily, I’m Dr. Byrne.” She shakes my hand with a beaming smile. “What brings you in today?”
“Um.” Nervous enough to vomit, I stare at the pen in her lab coat. “I’m slowly becoming more irritable, I’m feeling very depressed, terrible mood swings. I just don’t think I’m happy and there’s nothing I can think of to change in my life to fix this. I think it may be more of a chemical imbalance.” That was the biggest load of shit I’ve ever lied! If I eliminate the insane people around me and go back to sweet, precious, boring Lilith. . . .
*LUXE*
The doctor listened intently, then asked about family history. Lilith had to admit to the doctor that her mother left them and that was when her life altered. She didn’t disclose that she cut herself, but she expressed she needed to feel some sort of relief from her anxiety.
“And then I met my boyfriend and that kind of subsided, but it’s recently back and worse than before.”
“Do you feel like you want to hurt yourself?”
Lilith’s eyes shot to hers. “I think so,” she said almost in a whisper.
“Okay, I want you to fill out some paperwork, but today I’m going to prescribe you Xanax and we’ll see if this helps with the anxiety. Just give me a minute, okay?”
“Yeah, sure,” Lilith muttered, watching her exit.
“Ms. Tudor?” A knock came over the door and the male nurse stepped in. “I need a urine sample and the doc’s filling out your script.” He held out a cup then showed her to the bathroom.
She washed her hands and looked in the mirror. “Breathe, you idiot, she didn’t say you’re a nut job.”
Going back to the room, she began to feel a little better because the first step was done. She was seeking help.
With a soft knock, the doctor entered. “Here’s the script for Xanax. You take one pill when you feel a panic attack coming on. It’ll take about twenty minutes, but it’ll help. Do you think you could find a quiet place for twenty minutes?”
Lilith slowly nodded, wondering if she could find a quiet place from herself.
“I’d say wake and take one but we don’t want to drug you if we don’t need to. The paperwork I’m going to send home with you today, you should fill it out over a week. This is a mental health determinat
ion form. These are all your personal opinions. You said your dad wasn’t on depression pills so we don’t want to jump the gun and start feeding you a trough of pills.” She chuckled.
There was a knock at the door. “Dr. Byrne,” the male nurse called her out of the room.
Lilith stared at the script and began to feel confident the drugs would help.
“Lilith.” The doctor walked in, looking at her clipboard, then brought her eyes to Lilith’s. “You’re pregnant. Did you know that?”
It didn’t register; Lilith stared blankly at her.
“Lily?”
“What?” she managed to say.
“You’re pregnant.” The doctor smiled wide.
The sudden spinning of the room had Lilith holding the edge of the examining table tightly, not to fall off.
“Did you just start these birth control pills?” Dr. Byrne looked at Lilith’s chart that she filled out with outdated information. Lilith jumped off the table and grabbed the counter, lightheaded. “Whoa. Okay, have a seat, Lily. I don’t need you hurting yourself. You have another life to look out for now.” She chuckled.
That wasn’t humorous, cute, exciting, or evoke any emotion that caused happiness. Lilith pushed past the doctor to get out of the room.
“Lily!” she called out.
Without looking back, she pushed her way out the door into the waiting room, then stammered out into the parking lot. Reaching into her purse, she pulled keys out and got in. She was driving before she realized she left her coat and cellphone in the office. Thought wasn’t registering. It was like the words ‘you’re pregnant’ were used for zombie inducing hypnosis. Do what was familiar.
By the time she made it to the plaza, she was in tunnel vision and parked in a handicapped spot in the parking structure. Her blue heals echoed off the cement walls as she ran toward the building. She blew through the lobby, and the full elevator was making it harder to breathe. Her trembling hands hurt from shaking so fiercely and the pain in her chest went all the way up her esophagus, making her want to throw up. Stepping off the elevator, she rounded the corner, ignoring the women at the desk and beelined for the hallway leading to Ian’s office.
“Excuse me!” Karen called out, slowly standing in confusion.
Not hearing her or seeing her, Lilith kept going.
“Hey! Excuse me!” Karen yelled as Lilith rounded the corner, practically running. “Stop her!” Karen bitched at Tash.
Lilith pushed open Ian’s office door and there was a woman sitting in the chair in front of his desk.
“Lily!” Her name left his lips in a startle, then he stood in confusion.
She was gray in color and sweat beads glazed her forehead. Her wide eyes were dark and muddled, the rise and fall of her chest was noticeable, and her restricted breathing was audible.
“Um, Ms.,” Tash called out, stepping into Ian’s office. “I couldn’t stop her,” she apologetically said to Ian.
Lilith held herself up by his desk, staring at her hands; he wanted to go to her, but he couldn’t in front of them.
Karen stepped into his office. “What the hell is going on?” she snapped.
“Give me a minute, ladies. Please take Ms. Trombley to the waiting room.” He looked at Tash. Forcing a smile, he looked at the woman he was in the middle of interviewing and told her, “I’ll be right with you.”
“Ian!” Karen snapped, scrunching her forehead.
Ian looked at Lilith again and he saw her gasping, but the worst part was the vacancy in her expression.
He walked Karen and Tash into the hallway. “She was on a date this morning, perhaps something happened. Can you give us a minute?” He closed the door in their face, then locked it.
Grabbing Lilith, he pulled her to him and she collapsed in his arms, forcing him to hold her up. He leaned back onto his desk, then reached behind him, turning his desk phone off to limit interruptions.
“Baby,” he whispered in her ear with a tremble. Having no idea what happened, he was terrified. Feeling her shaking and hearing the wheezing almost made him cry. “Lily, talk to me,” he softly begged. “Take a deep breath.” He tried not to sound as scared as he was. “What happened?”
She remained silent for a few more minutes, then pulled away and plopped into the chair. Her form melted to the seat like she didn’t have a bone in her body and her vacant gaze locked on him.
After a minute, she exhaled like she were Lamaze breathing.
“I went to the doctor,” she said in the most exhausted tone.
His heart sank and fear for her health consumed him. Kneeling in front of her, he grabbed her hand and she brought her eyes from their hands fixing them into his eyes.
“I’m pregnant.” The words came out exasperated.
A chilling rush of relief made his hairs stand on end and he let out the smallest noise sounding like a laugh. He kissed her fingers, then knee, then fingers again.
“Oh my god, Lily,” he breathed. “I was so scared.” He looked at her and cupped her face in his hands, feeling how clammy she was.
He’s longing to live in a dream
Just looking at her I know she’s terrified, but I’m fucking ecstatic. This explains a fucking lot! I honestly thought for a split second she was going to tell me she was dying or something. Holy shit, she’s pregnant with my baby! I think it’s my baby. It had to have happened in Barbados, but she also fucked that cop.
“Baby,” I say and she brings horrified eyes to mine. “It’s mine, right?”
Fuck me! She slaps me across the face, and hard. How does she have the energy to hit me like that when she looks like a pile of flesh? I actually fell back, catching myself with my hands, and now she breaks into sobs. Christ, she’s not happy, not in the slightest. I don’t want kids right now, but if I want anyone to have my kids, it’s her. I want this woman to mother my children until the end of time, even if she won’t be with me. I realize how careless and scary this and I’m slowly beginning to understand her reaction. Her sobs are heartbreaking; it’s like she just witnessed the murder of a family member, or maybe even worse.
I’m holding her tightly and she won’t stop trembling, which only brings back my fear again. I don’t want her to feel like this. I need to get her home, but how the fuck am I going to manage that with Karen here?
I reach behind me and grab my coffee cup while pulling her to stand.
“Let me get you water, baby,” I say softly and she slowly lets me go.
She’s still sobbing; heavy breathing and little squeaks are coming from her and it’s agonizing to see she’s hurting.
After crossing the room to the water cooler, I bring her a full cup of water and she grabs it with both hands. Unsure if her trembling hands have a grip, I hold my hand underneath it. She’s a mess. Not until she drinks the entire cup does she look at me. Fuck, she’s beautiful, even with makeup streaming down her face, and swollen eyes, and a runny nose, and suffocating from fear.
“Baby,” I breathe and grab a tissue, wiping her nose. “Let me get you home.” When I say this, she nods, reaching to set the cup down.
This won’t be too weird; it’s clear she’s upset and it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve escorted one of my girls from the building. I grab a few more tissues and wipe away the remnants of running makeup, then carefully guide her down the hall. I hear Tash gasp when she sees us, but I know it’s because Lily is crying. Tash cries from everything so she’s probably going to break down any minute.
I look up at Karen. “Please postpone with Ms. Trombley and hold my calls. I’m going to get Ms. Tudor home.”
“Ian.” She sounds baffled and it worries me a little that this is more suspicious than I thought.
“I’ll return,” I say, walking around the corner to the elevator.
When the elevator doors close, Lily looks up at me with dazed eyes.
“Was that Karen?” she asks in the weakest voice.
“Yes,” I answer and she begins sobbing again and t
hrows herself at me; I pull her into my chest.
We don’t have long before the doors open to the lobby and I need to get her to calm down. I hold the ‘DOOR CLOSE’ button for a minute while she composes herself. As we exit the building I hold her close and she’s gasping for breaths every couple minutes. It’s like a child who’s had a good cry.
When I get into the car, I hold her hand then maneuver one handedly out of the parking garage, trying to warm her cold trembling. I see her car on my way out and she’s in a handicapped spot. She’s going to be ticketed, but I’ll take care of that. I’m just glad she’s in an actual parking spot and didn’t leave the car in the middle of the street.
At the condo, I try to get her in the shower, but she refuses and pushes me away. I watch her walk to the bed and curl up, still in her dress and heels. Zoned out, she lets me undress her, but doesn’t make it easy. I pull her shorts on, but I’m not able to get a shirt on her unless I make her move and she’s making it clear she doesn’t want to move.
“Baby?” I say kneeling next to the bed; she won’t even look at me. “I’m going to make you something to eat and get you some water.”
Still nothing and her glare looks petrified; it’s making me uncomfortable because I don’t want her to feel this terrible about our mistake. There’s nothing we can do to change it, but shit, I hope she doesn’t have a nervous breakdown before she even has the kid.
I make her grilled peppers and tomatoes with olive oil. Getting her to sit up and eat is frustrating; she won’t move and she’s still staring at the same spot of the room.
“Please, baby, eat something,” I say and my phone begins to ring again.
Karen has already called me three times, but I don’t dare answer anywhere in earshot of Lily.
“Dammit!” Quickly exiting the bedroom, I step outside before I answer. “Hello?”
