by Ella Fields
She fluffed her hair with one hand, a sly smile on her face as she checked her phone with the other. “Okay, don’t wait up.” She kissed the air, heading for the door.
“Same guy?” I called, shoving another Dorito in my mouth and crunching. She’d been seeing some guy from the dance studio where she worked. I’d met him once as he was leaving our place and still pulling his shirt on, and though he’d been in a hurry to leave, he seemed nice and pretty into her.
“His name is Bentley, and yes.” The door closed, and I gave my attention back to the TV.
My phone beeped, and I dusted flavoring onto my pants before snatching it from the coffee table.
Prince: How’re you feeling?
I stared at those three words, confused.
Me: You’re still here?
Prince: I said I would be. But I flew back to Atlanta for a meeting. Got in this morning.
Huh. My fingers hovered over the keypad, the little letters teasing with their infinite ways to cause trouble.
I locked my phone and set it down, dropping the remote when I saw Jaws was on. I then did my best to immerse myself in cheese supreme goodness.
Banging on the door woke me, and I startled into a sitting position, the bag of Doritos falling from my lap to the floor.
An infomercial was playing on the TV, and I squinted at the time on my phone. It was almost one in the morning. I’d passed out hours ago. I was falling asleep earlier and earlier each night.
Bang, bang, bang.
I frowned at the missed call notification from Aiden and the five missed calls from Everett before dropping my phone and forcing myself up.
Carrying my half empty glass of water with me to the door, I took a long sip before checking the peephole. Golden hair and a stubble-lined cheek stared back at me.
I opened the door, and Everett all but fell through it, stumbling into the hall table and cussing as he tried to right himself. “Holy shit, where’d that come from?”
“The thrift store,” I said, still trying to wake up and take in what was happening.
Everett chuckled, shaking a finger at me before continuing down the short hall into the living room. “You’re funny, Clover. Funny and beautiful.”
Closing the door, I set my glass down on the hall table and followed, my stomach souring. “How much have you had to drink?”
“Only a little.” Everett flopped onto the couch, then kicked off his boots. When he tried to yank off his socks, he fell to the floor with a thump.
“Only a little?” I asked when, groaning and laughing, he made no move to get off the floor.
I walked over, and he turned his eyes up at me. He squinted, shying away from the bright globe in the ceiling above us. “Yeah, but listen. Don’t be mad, ’kay?” Rolling side to side, he tried to get up. “Just, just… don’t be mad. It’s really fucking all right.” Then he stilled, his face paling. “Oh, shit.”
Vomit flew out of his mouth, flooding the hardwood floor and dribbling down his chin as he coughed. “Jesus,” he wheezed, coughing some more. “Haven’t done that in a while.”
My heart screamed and shattered, but I couldn’t move. I just stood there, watching as he struggled to keep from puking again.
“Come on,” I said, trying to stop my frenzied emotions from entering my voice, and reached for his arm. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
He slapped a hand to the floor, then slipped, not realizing he’d put it in his own vomit, and slid into the puddle of brown mush on his back. “Aw, fuck.”
Aw fuck, indeed.
Not once had I felt the urge to puke during this pregnancy, but that did it.
I turned and bolted down the hall, making it to the toilet just in time to hurl all the Doritos and the cucumber sandwich I’d eaten hours earlier into the porcelain bowl.
I could hear Everett muttering to himself, and I took a moment to make sure my stomach had settled before rinsing out my mouth and splashing some water onto my face.
He was going to need a shower, so I grabbed a spare towel and one of his shirts from my room and set them on the vanity.
When I returned to the living room, he was on his stomach, but otherwise, he was exactly where I’d left him. In his own vomit.
I shook him, poked him, and tried to gently slap his cheeks, but he wouldn’t stir.
Panic sliced sharp, and I gripped his arm in both hands, tugging him up with every bit of strength I possessed. “Everett, shit. Help me out here.” I tried to joke to stop the barrage of tears strangling my throat.
He groaned and moved to sit up. “Clover?” He stared down at the floor. “Fuck. What the hell?”
“You vomited, and now you need a shower.”
He stared at it for a moment, then started gagging.
Jesus Christ.
Finally, after throwing up one more time, he crawled toward the hall, slapping a puke-covered hand onto the wall to help himself up.
I was right there, my arm going around his waist to help support him.
We made it to the bathroom before I felt him teeter, and I glanced up to find his eyes were shut. “Everett,” I screamed as we both went down.
Pain radiated up my side and through my elbow, and he grumbled out a string of curse words, rubbing at his forehead, which I think smacked into the toilet seat.
Wincing at the pang in my elbow, I crawled over to him and undid his jeans.
“Do you need me, Clover?” he slurred out.
I ignored him. Sex was the absolute last thing on my mind as I yanked at his fly, then tugged.
When I had his pants down to his ankles, I pulled off the sock he hadn’t managed to remove earlier. Then I pulled the pants from his body, almost flying back into the bathtub.
And he was passed out again.
Sighing and feeling a tightening in my stomach, I left him there in his briefs, black T-shirt, and with his head slumped against the wall. I needed some help.
Adela didn’t answer, and though I considered it, it was too late to call Gloria and Sabrina. Not only that, but they’d only just started warming to Everett. He didn’t need their judgment right now.
With the band staying near the studio, at least an hour’s drive away, that left only one other person.
After staring at the screen of my phone for a few minutes, I unlocked the door for him, then returned to Everett. I turned on the shower, hoping the steam would help rouse him. Maybe sober him up a little.
“You okay?” I heard from the door not even five minutes after I’d called, explained, then hung up.
I met his dark gaze and swallowed over the knot constricting my throat, making it hard to breathe. “I’m sorry.”
He shook his head. “I’ve got this. Go sit down.”
I hesitated as Aiden walked over and hauled Everett from the ground.
Everett woke up, limbs flailing, as Aiden carefully maneuvered him into the bathtub.
“What the shit?” Everett shot confused eyes from Aiden to me, but the confusion wasn’t enough to hide the betrayal. “Don’t touch me.”
Aiden backed off, and Everett slid into the tub, his shirt clinging to his chest as he wiped his hands over his face and let the water rain down on him.
“I’ll get him some water.”
Aiden followed. “You’re bleeding.”
The glass almost slipped from my hand as I turned the tap off. “What?”
Aiden grabbed the water from me, then, with eyes full of fear, he gestured to my ass.
I reached behind me, no room for shame as fear invaded, and felt it. “No.”
Aiden took the water to the bathroom, and I heard more cursing, followed by the shower shutting off.
He returned with my purse and a towel, but I couldn’t move. “Let’s go.” Shifting me to the sink, he rinsed the blood from my fingers.
“But Everett…”
“Fuck that.” He turned off the tap. “Something isn’t right, Stevie. Forget him and think about you for a minute.” Then he led
me out of the apartment, closing the door behind us.
I’d thought I was doing okay with the idea of becoming a mother, but it had been a lie. A carefully constructed lie to not only put on a brave face for Everett but also for myself.
For the dreamer who hadn’t had a chance to fulfill his dream yet.
For the woman I was still growing into.
And for the baby who was probably better off raised by monkeys.
I had no idea what to expect or what to do. I’d only ever seen babies in passing on the street, in the mall, and in places like the doctor’s office.
Until then.
Until I saw the little blob of a human being growing inside me on that dark monitor. The tiny thud of his little heart sent shockwaves rippling through me, solidifying and strengthening a bond I didn’t know existed, and bringing tears to my eyes.
I could do this. I would do this.
“Everything looks fine to me. Sometimes these things happen when the body is under a lot of stress.” The young doctor with a ginger beard wrote me a prescription. “When’s your next scan?”
“Tomorrow’s my first one.”
He looked up from his pad, his cloudy moustache shifting. “You’re fourteen weeks, going on fifteen in a few days, Ms. Sandrine.”
I nodded, wiping goo from my stomach with the towel he’d handed me. “I know. Life got in the way.”
“Well, fortunately everything is looking great. But in future, I would recommend getting to those on time.”
Sitting up, I thanked him as he took the towel and tossed it into a trash can beneath his desk, then handed me the small piece of paper. “For any cramping pain. What were you doing before this happened?”
The paper felt cold in my hand. “Helping a friend.” I couldn’t meet his eyes as I explained carefully, “She came home drunk, and it got messy. She needed help.”
The doctor was quiet for a solid minute, and the lie became a corrosive taste filming my tongue.
Was I ashamed? No, but I was worried—riddled with concern over Everett’s actions tonight, and feared things were getting worse. I was about to turn twenty-one. Admitting I had a drunk boyfriend, playing into the young mom stereotypes and raising red flags, wasn’t what I wanted or needed right now.
I’d gotten everything I needed, what mattered, so I thanked the doctor one last time, the door closing with a barely audible snick behind me.
Out in the hall that led to the waiting room, I paused. Aiden’s eyes were closed, his head tilted back over the seat. His long, powerful body was slouched, legs spread, and his hands sitting over his white T-shirt covered stomach.
The searing ache in my eyes worsened, and I bit my lip as he scraped a hand over his thick hair, his whiskered jaw shifting while his eyes remained shut.
A brief glimpse of the room said I wasn’t the only one staring. An elderly woman and a young group of girls sat on the other side, their gazes bouncing over him every chance they could sneak.
The ache blistered as everything I’d kept hidden below the surface began to crest.
He’d come without a second thought, without question, and without judgment.
The towel I’d wrapped around me, in case I’d bled some more, sat on the seat beside him, where I’d waited in terrified silence before getting called in.
He’d held my hand but otherwise stayed quiet, knowing that there really weren’t any words to say. Yet when my name had been called, I’d rushed to the opened door and left him behind. I couldn’t take him in with me. Whether the news had been bad or good, it didn’t seem right.
His eyes opened as my footsteps neared, but he showed no sign of being hurt by any of this. Only concern. He rubbed his face, his lashes sticking to one another. “Are you okay?”
I let the tears tumble free, nodding.
He straightened, frowning as he stood from the seat. “Then why are you crying?”
“Because I saw him, heard his heartbeat.”
A twitch to his lips, then he smiled, reaching out to brush my tears away with his thumbs. “He? You know already?”
I sniffed, unable to contain my smile. “Not for sure, but I just do.”
His smile softened with his chuckle, the harsh edges of his face relaxing, thumbs still feather light over my cheeks. It was wrong but felt too good to put an end to. “Let’s get you home, then.”
“Why are you really here, Aiden?” I asked once we were inside his car. It wasn’t an accusation, but a question that’d been plaguing me.
“You know why.” A sigh escaped, but before I could berate him for potentially ruining his career, he continued, “It’s okay. I’ve been granted leave. They weren’t happy, but they’re letting me return next season. I have some meetings close by and on Skype. Besides, I needed to wrap things with the apartment.”
“Right.” The thought of him leaving, of not seeing him again, stole my breath and threatened to send a fresh wave of tears.
The streets were dark and abandoned, and the time on the dash read four fifteen in the morning. We’d not been off the highway long, the silence strangling, when Aiden pulled over onto the side of the road.
He hit the hazards, then turned to me, hard gaze unwavering. “What are you doing, Stevie?”
My mouth opened and closed, my heart pounding.
“With him. Yeah, you love him, I get it.” The words were pained, slicing between his teeth. “But I know you love me too, and this can’t keep happening. You’re having a baby, for Christ’s sake.”
My voice was hollow. “I know.”
“Leave him. You don’t even need to leave him for me, just…” A noise of frustration echoed through the car, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. “He’s no good for you.”
“He’s been okay,” I said, feeling sick that I needed to defend Everett. That I needed to defend him to Aiden of all people. “He was doing okay, but I don’t know… I don’t know what happened.”
“There doesn’t need to be a reason. If he wants to drink, he’ll find any reason. That’s what addicts do.”
“That’s not fair.” But he was right. He was right, and I hated it. Hated that I knew it before he’d even said anything, and now he was unearthing it, bringing that knowledge into the light.
And now that it was out, I could no longer bury it. I couldn’t act like none of this was happening and that everything would be okay.
“What’s not fair is bringing a child into this world with an addict for a parent.” The pain in his eyes, the conviction in his soft voice, slammed me in the chest.
And I knew then, he wasn’t just saying this for me. He was saying it for him. “Is this about me anymore?”
He sat back, the tense stance he’d taken deflating. “It is. My mom has nothing to do with this.”
“She does. And I agree with you, Aiden, I really do, but it feels like giving up.”
“On him? Or on some fucked-up dream you’ve harbored for years?”
“Are we ever supposed to give up on our dreams?” The words whispered out of me, and I winced as they reached his ears and caused his features to ice.
“If they only end up hurting you, then yeah, you give them the hell up.” He flicked the hazards off, but I grabbed his arm before he could put the car in drive.
“I’m sorry.”
He recoiled, and I pulled my hand back. “You can’t stay there with him.”
“He’s probably asleep.” At least, I hoped he was. Weary, I sank back into the seat. Hating the way we’d just left him, I felt a kaleidoscope of conflicted feelings for the broken man inside my bathroom. Mostly betrayal, worry, and anger.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
I wasn’t sure he heard me when I whispered, “Because I don’t know the answer.”
He put the car in drive, then pulled out onto the moon-glazed road.
That ache twisted deep as I watched Aiden from the kitchen window, and he finally drove away.
He’d told me to call him if I
needed help, but that was it. With a million things I wanted to say, but having no room and no right to say any of them, I’d just thanked him, collected the towel and my purse, then climbed out of the car.
I picked up the glass I’d left earlier, draining the contents while I tried to think about what I needed to do first.
Everett’s snores traveled down the hall, and though I knew there was probably a huge mess to clean up, exhaustion urged me to bed. Where I stared at his sleeping face, the peace that’d settled over it, until the darkness took me too.
I woke to a blazing sun, its heat curling the hair around my forehead, and Everett’s palm sticky on my hip. Lying on my back, I felt his hand sweep over my stomach, then stop.
And then I heard it.
The near silent sound of rasping breaths heaving out of him, and wet beads falling to my skin.
My hand reached for his hair, fingers resting over the tangled strands. “He’s okay.”
His tears came harder, and then his arm curled around my waist, his face pressed into my side.
Exhausted in every possible way, I closed my eyes and eventually collapsed back into sleep.
I woke again later that afternoon. This time, save for the four-leaf clover sitting on the pillow beside mine, I was alone.
My lips hitched as I picked it up, feeling the smooth texture of its leaves between my fingers. Getting up, I walked to my bookshelf and set it next to a framed photo of Everett that I’d taken two months ago at the bar. He’d been playing and smiling into the mic. He’d looked happy, at peace, and I was ecstatic I’d captured that moment forever.
I’d missed my appointment, and as I ate an extra-large helping of Froot Loops, I called them back to reschedule yet again. Thankfully, they had an opening before the week was out.
It was then I noticed the floor had been cleaned. The scent of pine cleaner staining the air.
I kept eating, checking my phone as I did, as a feeling came over me. One that worsened when Adela came home from work, hungover and grumbling about her date.
Her words penetrated, but as I opened a text from Aiden asking how I was doing, she snapped her fingers in front of my face. “Earth to Stevie fucking Wonder.”
