The Bed She Made

by Elicia Hyder

  She clinked her glass with his. “Happy Valentine’s Day, husband.”

  She drained half the glass before she put it down. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a witch to you lately.”

  “You’re fine.” He smiled before devouring a forkful of lasagna. “You’re carrying another human around inside of you. I think that would make anyone grumpy.”

  She ate five bites and half of her slice of garlic bread before pushing the plate away. “It’s really delicious, but I have no room for food.”

  He reached over and squeezed her hand. “It’s OK. How about a hot bath?”

  She laughed. “My lower back has been so sore for the past few days that a bath sounds like heaven, but I don’t think I can get in and out of the bathtub.”

  He stood and offered his hand to her. “Come on. I can handle that part.”

  She hoisted herself up onto her feet and then squatted down to pick up her shoes before he could stop her.

  “Journey, let me…”

  She interrupted him, laughing hysterically.

  “What is it?” he asked, pulling her back up to standing.

  She cradled her belly still laughing. “I peed a little.”

  He laughed and kissed her forehead. “Come on. Let’s get you in the bath, Mrs. Garrett.”

  When they made it to their master bedroom down the hall, she sat on the king sized bed while he went into the bathroom and started running hot water into the tub. “Do you want bubbles?” he called to her.

  “No,” she replied. “And not too hot, please, or my feet will swell even more. My tattoo on my ankle is starting to look pregnant.”

  When he went back to the bedroom to help her out of her clothes, she had reclined back on the bed. All he could see was her belly and her legs. He covered his mouth, so as not to laugh out loud and incite her wrath. “Come on, Mama,” he said, reaching for her hands.

  “You’re gonna have to pull me up.”

  He laughed. “I know.”

  He helped her sit up, and she slowly stood. The moment she was vertical, she bent at the hips and cradled her stomach again. “Uh oh.”

  His head snapped up. “What is it?”

  “Either I peed my pants again, or my water is leaking.”

  “Your water?” he asked.

  She nodded and tried to straighten. Before she could get fully vertical, she whimpered again. “Yep. I definitely think my water broke.”

  He looked down at her pants and saw they were wet down the inside of her legs. His chest tightened, and his hands began to sweat. “The baby is coming?”

  She was pinching her knees together. “I think so. Help me get to the bathroom so I don’t ruin the carpet.”

  “Forget the carpet!” he shouted. “We’ve got to get to the hospital. We can take the squad car! I’ll turn on the siren and…”

  “Marcus!”

  He snapped to attention. She was laughing.

  “Deep breaths,” she said. “Get me to the bathroom, and then call the doctor.”

  She was so calm it frustrated him. He gripped her arms and helped her shuffle to the tile bathroom. “Help me into the shower,” she said.

  He panicked. “We don’t have time for a shower!”

  “Marcus! I’m going to sit on the seat in the shower while you call the doctor and bring me some dry pants,” she told him.

  With one sweep of his hand, he gathered all of the shampoo and soaps off of the shower seat. He helped her sit down and dropped the bottles into the tub behind him before shutting off the running bathwater.

  He patted himself down. “Crap. My phone is in the kitchen. Are you going to be OK if I go get it?”

  She nodded slowly. “I’m fine. Go get your phone and bring me a pair of clean leggings. The doctor’s number is on the refrigerator.”

  He took one last inquisitive look at her to make sure she was alright before sprinting to the kitchen. His phone was on the table. He grabbed it and dialed the doctor’s office only to get an answering service and a very adamant woman who wasn’t moved at all by his frantic demands for a doctor. “They are going to call us back,” he said as he reentered the bathroom.

  “Pants,” she reminded him.

  “Oh yeah.” He ducked back into the bedroom and grabbed the first thing his fingers found in her drawer. He walked back and handed them to her.

  She frowned and handed the glittery fabric right back to him. “Try again.”

  He let out an exasperated sigh and returned to the bedroom. For his second attempt, he dumped the entire contents of the dresser drawer out onto the floor. He grabbed a pair of gray pants and held them around the bathroom door before wasting his footsteps. “These?”

  “Those are fine,” she replied. “I also need some panties.”

  He rifled through another drawer and found a pair of pink thongs that he hadn’t seen in a long, long time. He carried both of them to her and presented them proudly. She dangled the thong from her index finger. “Are you serious?” she asked. “Help me up. I’ll do it myself.”

  “No, I can do this!” he argued.

  “Apparently not. Help me up,” she repeated.

  He helped her to her feet and out of the shower. The wet spot on her pants was definitely spreading. He thought his heart was going to beat out of his chest.

  She threw the thongs across the room and draped the gray pants over her shoulder. She kept one hand securely under her stomach. “I feel like this baby is going to fall out onto the floor.”

  Marcus almost cried. “Please dear God no!”

  She stopped shuffling and turned to face him. She grabbed both sides of his face. “I need you to keep it together. I am not even having bad contractions yet. This is going to get a lot worse before it gets better. I don’t need you pussing out on me now.”

  “But you are having contractions?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Have been on and off all day.”

  “All day?!” His voice cracked like he had just hit puberty.

  She gave him a warning look. “Marcus.”

  He snapped his lips closed. “Sorry.”

  When they reached the mess of clothes he had made on the floor she put her hand on her hip and glared at him. He just gave her an awkward half-smile and shrugged his shoulders. She pulled open her panty drawer and retrieved a pair of underwear he was pretty sure would fit him and her at the same time if necessary. She also pulled out his New England Patriots sweatshirt, that he had been looking for all winter. She carried the ensemble back to the bed.

  “Can you get me a hand towel?” she asked as she leaned against the mattress. “That’s the one that’s between the size of a washcloth and a—”

  He cut her off. “I know what it is!”

  He saw her chuckle out of the corner of his eye as she shimmied out of her black pants. His phone buzzed in his pocket. “Hello?” he answered quickly.

  “This is Dr. Heerman,” a woman said on the other end.

  He carried a hand towel back to the bedroom and handed it to Journey. “Hi, this is Marcus Garrett. My wife is leaking and is having contractions, and she feels like the baby might fall out on the floor—”

  “Give me the damn phone,” Journey insisted as she shoved the folded hand towel between her thighs.

  Marcus passed her his cell phone and helped her pull on her ridiculously oversized underwear. He listened intently to her end of the conversation. “Sorry about that,” she said. “My husband is losing his mind.” Marcus helped his wife stuff the towel into the panties as best as he could. Journey continued talking to the doctor, and she carefully stepped into the clean pair of pants. “I’ve been having contractions very sporadically all day and didn’t pay them too much attention until now. They aren’t very bad at all, but now I’m pretty sure that my water has broken… Uh, huh. OK, we will come on to the hospital now. Yes. Thank you. I will tell him.” She laughed and ended the call. “The doctor said to tell you, ‘slow deep breaths, just like we practiced,’” she teased.


  “Shut up,” he whimpered.

  He pulled the stretchy pants up over her butt, the towel, and the offensively large panties. As he rose from the floor, she grabbed him again by the face and pulled him up to meet her. She smiled and pressed her lips to his. “Are you ready to be a daddy, Mr. Garrett?”

  · · ·

  Genesis Evelyn Garrett was born at 6:13 AM on the morning after Valentine’s Day. Marcus chose the name Evelyn for his late grandmother, and Journey picked Genesis to symbolize the beginning of their new family. “Genna” was a plump eight pound baby that screamed for the first two hours she was born. Marcus equated that to her not being a morning person, just like her momma.

  13

  Hand Guns And Diaper Bags

  Journey was surprised the day that Marcus decided to catapult their family into the 21st century by bringing home their first desktop computer. He had always been so adamant about not having one at home because he used one so much at work. She really didn’t care if they had one or not. If she needed the Internet, she would go to her mom’s house or Kara’s apartment. She eyed him suspiciously as he lay under the desk in the office connecting all of the wires. “How much money did you spend on that thing?” she asked.

  “I had to get it for work,” he said. “I need to be able to check the office bulletins.”

  “Whatever.” She folded her arms across her chest and leaned against the doorframe. “You just want to look up naked women online.”

  He laughed out loud. “Do you think I have a death wish?” He slid out from under the desk and pressed the power button on the computer before standing up.

  Genna cried out from her playpen in the living room. Journey walked into the room and found her little girl sitting up, playing with her feet. “Ba, ba, ba, ba, ba, ba,” she babbled.

  “Genna!” Journey cooed.

  The bald baby girl dressed in pink looked up with her daddy’s big crystal blue eyes. “Mum, mum, mum, mum.” Journey thought her heart might melt into a puddle. Genna lifted her tiny arms up, and Journey scooped her up into her arms and kissed her little face.

  “Who is Mommy’s sweet baby girl? Did you have a good nap?” She kissed Genna again before carrying her back to the office. Marcus was seated in front of the screen. She walked over and wedged her way into his lap.

  He laughed and kissed his wife. “Dad’s beautiful girls,” he said, rubbing Journey’s back.

  Journey draped her arm around his shoulders. “I’m going to change her diaper and go over to my mom’s for a while.”

  “How is your mom?” he asked.

  Journey’s mother had undergone gallbladder surgery that week. “She’s OK. Still in a lot of pain, but she’s getting better. Genna and I are going to go to the grocery store for her and then maybe cook dinner for her and Dad. Do you want to go or are you going to stay here and play with your new toy?”

  He gave her a guilty look.

  She laughed and kissed his forehead. She bounced Genna on her knee. “Daddy’s already neglecting us because of the Internet. It’s just you and me, kid.”

  Marcus laughed and kissed Genna’s little fingers. “I’ll come over there for dinner. Just call me when it’s almost ready.”

  She began to stand up, but he pulled her back down by her shirt and gave her a long, slow kiss. “I love you.”

  “Love you too, Daddy.” She gave him a quick peck on the tip of his nose.

  Journey packed what seemed like a month’s worth of essentials into the diaper bag, changed Genna’s wet diaper, and buckled the baby into her car seat. It was still summertime, so she quickly changed into cut off jean shorts, a sleeveless shirt, and her favorite pair of blue flip-flops. She checked her reflection in the mirror and silently thanked God that she had finally shed her baby weight. She pulled her hair up in a messy knot on the top of her head.

  Genna was kicking her feet in her chair and shaking her plastic baby car keys. Journey lifted the car seat, which was getting heavier every day, and hooked her arm through the handle. “Are you ready to go see Nana?”

  “Na na na na na na na,” Genna repeated over and over again.

  “Marcus, we are leaving. Call me later,” she called as she carried the baby and half of the nursery down the hallway.

  “Hey, I’m going to create an email address for you. What do you think about ‘mrsmarcusgarrett-leavemywomanalone@yahoo.com?” he called from the office.

  Journey paused to pick up her keys in the kitchen and laughed. “Whatever you think is best, babe.”

  “Love you!” he yelled. “Tell your mom I asked about her.”

  “I will. Love you too!”

  Journey missed the days when she could shop for groceries alone without stressing about germs, questionable strangers, and poopy diaper emergencies. She hoped to make her trip in and out of FoodMart as quick as possible. About half way through the short list of essential items that her mother had given her over the phone, she turned down the drink aisle and froze in her tracks.

  Brian Drake was lifting a case of cheap beer out of the cooler.

  Journey shuffled a few steps backward, but before she could get around the corner he looked up and saw her. Her breath hung in her chest as she turned her cart around slowly. Out of the corner of her eye, Brian moved in her direction. She let go of the cart and reached for Genna’s car seat to make her exit without the items she had picked out, but a hand landed firmly on her shoulder.

  Her heart was pounding so loud she could barely think.

  “Journey, right?” Brian asked.

  She slowly turned to meet his nearly black eyes. They were lined with creases which made him look older than his thirty-something years. His black hair was buzzed close to his scalp, and a faded green tattoo snaked up the side of his neck. His pants were at least two sizes too big, and his white shirt hung strangely around his waistband. She suspected he was carrying a gun.

  “Sure you are,” he said. “You were my brother’s girlfriend. You were the one who put him in prison.” He laughed, but neither of them were amused.

  Journey swallowed hard. “What do you want?”

  He held up his hands in defense. “Oh, I just wanted to say hello. It’s been a really, really long time. How long has it been since you were screwing my brother… and then screwed my brother?”

  Journey didn’t answer, and as she moved toward the door, he stepped to block her path. He stepped closer to Genna’s car seat. “Oh, is this your baby?” He reached out and let her clasp her tiny hand around his finger. He laughed again. “Look at that! She likes me!” He leaned toward her. “Do you want to come home with me sometime, pretty baby?”

  Journey jerked the car seat away from his tattooed hand. “Get away from me,” she hissed. “My husband’s a cop.”

  He laughed. “Oh, that’s right! The hero of Emerson that put my brother away! Where is he?” he asked, looking around. Brian’s voice and his eyes turned dark. “Oh, he’s not here. Is he?”

  “Get away from me!” Her raised voice drew the eyes of other patrons.

  He raised his hands and slowly backed away from her chuckling softly.

  She took advantage of the distance and darted toward the exit. She didn’t stop running till she reached her car and unlocked it. She snapped Genna’s car seat into its base before getting in the driver’s seat and slamming the door closed. The loud noise made Genna start crying. Journey hit the door’s lock button and dropped her forehead against the steering wheel.

  When she raised her head, Brian was standing on the sidewalk about ten feet away leering at her. His menacing scowl radiated hatred. She quickly jammed the keys into the ignition and put the car in reverse. He continued staring at her until she couldn’t see him anymore.

  Genna was screaming.

  Journey tried to soothe her daughter, but she was almost in hysterics herself. Rather than driving to her parents' house, she went directly back home. She kept checking in the rearview mirror, certain that she was being followed.
She wasn’t. As soon as she got the car into the garage and pulled Genna out of the backseat, she ran into the house.

  Marcus came out of the office laughing. “What did you forget?”

  The terror on her face was evident to her husband. He quickly stopped laughing and rushed to take the car seat from her. Her hands were trembling. He put Genna down on the table and began unfastening her safety restraints. “What’s the matter?” he asked with wide eyes.

  She sank into the chair at the table as Marcus pulled the baby out of her seat and cuddled her to him. In his arms, Genna began to calm down.

  “I just ran into Brian Drake at FoodMart.” She rested her elbows on the table and dropped her head into her hands.

  His mouth fell open. “Are you serious?” He sat down beside her. “Are you sure it was him?”

  “Oh yeah.”

  “Did he talk to you?”

  Journey nodded. “Yes. He knew exactly who I was and who you were. He knew it was me that put Steven in jail and you that locked him up.”

  “Did he threaten you?” Marcus asked.

  She gave a noncommittal shrug. “Not exactly, but he scared the hell out of me. He kept talking about Steven and what you and I did and then he started talking to Genna.” Journey shuddered.

  “Come here,” he said and pulled her against him. He kissed the side of her head, and she immediately began to relax. “Are you OK?”

  She nodded and pulled back to wipe her eyes. She didn’t even realize she was crying. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just really freaked out. He watched me from across the parking lot until I got onto the highway. He’s just so evil.”

  “Can you take her?” Marcus asked, handing her the baby. “He’s got a warrant out on him for a drug charge. I’m going to call in and have someone go look for him.”

  She nodded and took Genna into her arms. Genna reached up and put a hand on Journey’s face. Marcus rose from the table and went back to the office. Journey pulled out her cell phone and called her mother to explain why she would be late, or not coming at all. By the time she ended the call, Marcus had returned.