Slick (Burnout 2.5)

by Dahlia West

  Chapter 6

  By mid-October the leaves were starting to change and the wind had kicked up, making it seem slightly chillier than it was. Sarah pulled a sweater down over her head and, as she always did, ran a hand over the bump that was growing larger by the day. But she didn’t mind. Chris came up behind her, wrapped his hands around her waist and placed a large hand up underneath her sweater. She leaned back into him and closed her eyes.

  Chris had always been affectionate with her, throughout their whole relationship. But he was even more so these days. His hand always seemed to find its way to her bump. It was not unusual to wake up in the night and discover that he’d pulled her closer and slipped his hand inside her short night gowns. Skin to skin seemed to be the way he preferred it. And that suited her just fine.

  “Ready?” he murmured into her hair.

  She nodded.

  Chris had been to every subsequent doctor’s appointment despite having missed the first one. Sarah couldn’t be happier. They really were together again. The stress of trying to get pregnant had pulled them apart, but the reality of being pregnant had brought them closer together than ever before. Chris listened intently as she read childbirth books out loud to him, though she was fairly certain he was not all that interested the gory details. And he’d said not one word when she came home with samples of nearly every color commercially available and applied each one to the walls of the bedroom that they were converting to a nursery.

  In the waiting room, Sarah was so excited she could barely contain herself. More than once he’d had to put a hand on her knee to stop her from bouncing. He was grinning, though, and she knew that he was just as excited as she was.

  In the ultrasound room she barely winced as the cold gel was applied to her bump. Chris held her hand the entire time. Sarah Sullivan’s medical experiences up until a few months ago had been nothing short of horrific, an aftermath of violence that seemed at times that it would never truly end. Surgeries and stitches. Rape kits and referrals for psychologists.

  Gradually these memories were pushed further into the back of her mind as new, happier memories replaced them. Measuring her belly, listening for the heartbeat. Sarah had all but forgotten about the scars on her stomach now that she was more concerned with what lay within.

  She kept her eyes fixed on the monitor, though the finer points of understanding what she was seeing was lost on her.

  “Well,” the technician said. “Are we ready Mom and Dad?”

  Sarah took a deep breath and glanced at Chris.

  “Ready,” he declared.

  Sarah nodded.

  The technician smiled. She pressed a button and a still photo came out of the attached laser printer. She plucked it out of the tray and handed it to Chris and Sarah.

  “Daddy’s little princess,” the technician announced.

  Sarah’s breath caught in her throat as her heart hammered away in her chest. Chris stared at the picture and then at Sarah. He squeezed her hand and leaned toward her.

  “Now I have two miracle girls,” he whispered into her ear.

  Chapter 7

  The week before Thanksgiving Sarah was struggling to bring all the food she’d bought into the house. She’d decided to do her shopping early this year. She’d read about ‘Mommy Brain’ in one of her pregnancy books but dismissed it as ridiculous. Until she’d arrived at the grocery store in two different sneakers and figured it might be best to shop early for the holiday. Because apparently she was likely to forget some things.

  It was Thursday, poker night, and she still had to make dinner for everyone. She put the chili on simmer and made batter for cornbread. As she was mixing she was reminded that she still hadn’t chosen a paint color for the baby’s room. Abby had wanted to go shopping too many times.

  She was currently storing everything in one of the extra bedrooms and figured she and Chris could paint over the holiday and then start setting up the nursery.

  She was at the stove when Chris came up behind her, home from work. He slid his arms around her. “Smells good,” he told her.

  She smiled. “Me or dinner?”

  Chris nuzzled her ear. “Trick question. Come upstairs with me and be dinner.” He looked down over her shoulder. “What are you wearing?”

  She glanced down at her oversized hoodie and sweat pants. “What?” she asked.

  He groaned. “Slick,” he intoned. “I want you to be comfortable. But you’ve never lounged around the house in a circus tent before.”

  “I’m almost the size of Tex’s hummer,” she pointed out.

  He nipped her ear. “Don’t care. Get it off.” Then he paused. “And why are you wearing two different shoes?”

  “I have Mommy Brain.”

  “You have what?”

  “Mommy Brain. I’m distracted. I forget things.”

  “Forget you own this outfit,” he ordered.

  “Hmm. Okay,” she said, smiling. She reached up and tugged a little on the hoodie’s zipper. She pulled it down slowly, knowing he could see down into it since he was so much taller than she was.

  “Devious,” he murmured.

  “How?” she asked, revealing a little more.

  “Hiding all this from me underneath that,” he replied.

  “Hiding,” she repeated quizzically. “Oh, you mean these?” She pulled the zipper all the way down, revealing both soft, full mounds for his viewing pleasure.

  “You like this?” she whispered.

  “This?” he asked, kissing her neck.

  “The way I look.”

  He pulled her back into him, pressing his erection against the small of her back. “If you hadn’t noticed,” he replied. “And I hope you’re not too uncomfortable, because we’re doing this three, maybe four more times.”

  “Three or four more times?” she asked.

  He smiled. “It’s negotiable. But we’ve got a limited number of years that this-” He slapped her butt with both hands to emphasize his point “is possible and you’re out of your mind if you think I’m only gonna get to enjoy these soft curves once in my whole life. Once is not enough. Not even close.”

  She laughed. “So your plan is to keep me barefoot and pregnant and in the kitchen for the next several years?”

  He nipped at her shoulder. “Well, you love the kitchen.”

  “That’s true,” she agreed.

  “And I don’t much care about footwear so long as you’re comfortable. Don’t even care if it matches,” he added. “But yeah. You’re gonna get as much time as you need to recover from Thing 1 here, and then we’re staying in bed until Thing 2 is in the works.”

  “So you want me to pop out babies like a machine gun?”

  He grinned at her. “I love it when you talk dirty.” He kissed her fully on the mouth. “I told you, it’s all negotiable. But I’m getting this at least one more time. It’s your body, you say when.”

  She grinned at him. “Yes, Sir.”

  ****

  Just as they finished up, the boys started to arrive downstairs. Sarah shimmied back into her sweat pants and Chris glared at her as he zipped up his jeans. Sarah ignored him and headed downstairs. Easy was the first through the door and he eyed her disapprovingly as well. “What is that?” he asked.

  “What?” Sarah asked looking down at her shoes, which were now matched.

  “You,” Easy replied. “Dressed like some kind of sloppy bag lady.”

  “But...”she argued, looking down at herself. “I’m the size of-”

  “Tex’s Hummer,” Caleb said as he stepped inside from the porch. “Yeah. We get it. And we like it.”

  Sarah’s eyes widened and she stared up at Caleb. “You do?”

  “Yeah, honey, we do. And so does Shooter.”

  “Definitely so does Shooter,” Easy agreed.

  “But I’m fat!” she spluttered.

  The two men laughed uproariously. “Oh, honey,” Caleb said, shaking his head. “Pregnant ain’t fat. Pregnant’s pregnant
. And that’s all there is to it.” He slung one arm around Sarah’s shoulders. “Slick,” he announced. “You’ve got a lot to learn about men.”

  “I do?”

  “Yep,” Easy replied for Caleb. “Men,” he informed her, “like to see the….fruits of their labors.”

  Caleb snorted. “It’s too early for puns.”

  Easy glared at him. “It’s never too early for puns.”

  Turning back to Sarah Caleb said, “Honey, he has a limited amount of time to enjoy this. Your big belly, your full, ripe tits.” Sarah blushed furiously. “That sweet little ass that now looks like it’s finally got some cushion to it.” Caleb pointedly looked down at her behind.

  Ignoring Caleb’s warning, Easy continued to wax poetic. “See, Slick. We’re men.”

  “Manly men,” Caleb added.

  “Very manly men,” Easy agreed, grinning. “And we like our women to be women. Now women come in all shapes and sizes-”

  “And he’s had one of each,” Caleb replied.

  Easy just grinned impossibly wider. “But no woman looks more like a woman than when she’s carrying a baby. And a man likes to see his woman looking like a woman. Like his woman.”

  Caleb looked at Sarah. “What the hell are you wearing, anyway? I can’t even see your ass. Your ass is the best part of my day, Slick.”

  “Told you!” Chris declared, vindicated. He hit the last step and came further into the living room. “And stop looking at my wife’s ass.”

  Caleb smirked. “Yeah. I’m not gonna lie. That’s not a possibility.”

  “Her shoes match, at least,” Chris declared.

  “Huh?” Easy asked.

  Sarah ignored them and headed back into the kitchen. As she stood at the stove, she heard someone coming up behind her. Possibly Chris for round two. Or one of the others trying to horn in on her chili. Either way she balled up her fist and threw her elbow back sharply behind her.

  “Ooooh,” Easy said, slapping her well-aimed appendage away before it connected with his nose. “Too slow, Slick.”

  She snorted.

  “Guess that’s Mommy Brain,” he teased. “Let me have a taste,” he said, jerking his chin at the pot of chili.

  “Forget it, it’s not ready.”

  “I just want a taste!” he insisted. “How am I going to know how much hot sauce I need?”

  She rolled her eyes at him. “Fine.”

  He grinned and took the wooden spoon from her. He scooped out some chili and took a bite. “God it’s hot!” he spluttered.

  “Duh!”

  He handed her back the spoon and went to the fridge. “S’good though,” he told her and opened the fridge door. He began rifling through it. “Where’s the hot sauce?”

  “It’s in there.”

  He frowned and stared into the appliance. “Yeah. Not seeing it, Slick.”

  “It’s in there!”

  Easy shook his head. “Slick, either Zuul is camping out in your fridge or your Mommy Brain forgot to buy some.”

  Sarah sighed, irritated. “Easy,” she snapped. Turning from the stove. “It’s-”

  Suddenly everything around her swam. Her vision blurred. She blinked once, twice, three times trying to maintain her balance.

  “Slick?” Easy asked, glancing at her.

  She put her hand out on the edge of the island to steady herself. Everything was going dark. She was vaguely aware that her other hand had dropped the spoon. Chili sauce splattered all over the floor.

  “Sarah!”

  Sarah’s hand slipped off the counter and she pitched forward. She did notice that she should have hit the floor, but Easy must have caught her before that.

  “Sarah!”

  She tried to remain conscious, but her field of vision was closing in. Then blackness.

  “CALEB!”

  ****

  Sarah sat in the doctor’s office. All the progress she’d made toward being more comfortable here came crashing down around her. The doctor sat across from her, Chris to her left.

  “You have a condition,” he told them. “Preeclampsia. It usually presents itself at or around 20 weeks. It’s an extreme case of high blood pressure. There’s stress on the placenta that hasn’t quite formed properly. Unfortunately, the risks are high. It can be fatal, to both mother and child. As the pregnancy continues and pressure continues to remain high, or climb, there’s a risk of stroke, seizures, liver and kidney damage to the mother. For the baby, preterm delivery is a risk. Also, slow fetal growth.”

  Sarah couldn’t speak. In fact she could hardly breathe.

  “Is there a treatment?” Chris asked. “Medication or-”

  “There are corticosteriod shots that might help lower her pressure and also help the baby’s lungs to develop so that if there is a preterm delivery, she’ll have a better chance of survival.”

  The doctor closed the folder he was holding. “Unfortunately,” he said, “Sarah’s case is...one of the more extreme that I’ve seen. Her numbers are very, very high. The longer she stays pregnant, the higher her risk of stroke or organ damage.” He cleared this throat. “I will tell you that other, future pregnancies may not present with this condition. They may be perfectly normal, healthy pregnancies.”

  Sarah finally found her voice. “Can the treatments really help us? Will they work?”

  The doctor frowned. “There is no reliable treatment for Preeclampsia. All we can do is try. There is only one way to eliminate the risk to you.”

  Sarah closed her eyes, willing him not to say it. She was already shaking her head before she heard the word ‘abortion.’

  ****

  Sarah walked into the house feeling completely numb. The November chill should have stung her cheeks just in the short trek from the car to the front door, but she barely felt it. Inside she shed her coat but simply stood in the living room.

  Her house, her husband, the life she’d built here, felt like it was all slipping through her fingers. She blinked and tears spilled onto her cheeks. She had survived all those years ago, had dragged herself out of Hell, for what? Sarah had once lost everything, somehow regained it, and now it was going away again. But it was not for nothing. She knew that much.

  Since the day she first saw her baby’s heartbeat on the monitor, instinct had solidified inside her. For Sarah the choice was clear, because there was no choice.

  “Save her,” she said softly.

  Chris, who was draping his coat over the back of the chair, turned to look at her.

  “Save her,” she repeated.

  “Sarah-”

  She shook her head. “You have to. She’s ours.”

  “I can’t do that,” he told her.

  Pain twisted inside her. “You will,” she insisted.

  Chris rubbed his face with one hand. His face was drawn and he looked tired. “Sarah,” he said calmly, matter of factly. “We can....” He paused. “We can try again.”

  “No!”

  “Sarah, listen to me. It’s not worth the risk. I know. I know this is terrible. I know this is the worst thing that could happen. But it has to happen. We have to-”

  “NO! She’s us, Chris! She’s you and she’s me and she deserves to have a future!”

  “We’ll have another one,” he insisted.

  “What if we can’t?!”

  He sighed heavily. “I’ve seen the bookmarks on the computer,” he informed her. “I know you were thinking about adoption before we got the news. I know you were going to talk to me about it.” He closed the space between them and took her hands into his own. “We’ll do that, Sarah. If that’s what we have to do. We can have a baby-”

  “We already have a baby! She’s here!” Sarah cried, putting one of Chris’ hands on her belly. “She’s already here, Chris. And we have to protect her.”

  For the first time since she’d told him about the baby, he pulled away.

  “Don’t do this,” she begged.

  “Don’t you do this, Sarah!”

>   “How can you not want-?!”

  “Do you think I don’t love her?!” Chris shouted. “Well, I do! She’s my daughter! And I’ve already bought her first present. I love her, Sarah! But I love you more. Don’t ask me to do this.”

  “Save her if it comes to it! It’s the only choice, Chris!”

  Chris looked absolutely stricken.

  “Please,” she begged. “Please. Tell me you’ll choose the baby. Promise me you’ll choose her.”

  “Sarah-”

  “Promise me!”

  To Be Continued….