Enough Page 8

As Grandma Kay runs her brush up the length of the door, I see her smile knowingly. “Every stroke is a memory you cherish or leave behind.”

  “How many times has this door been painted?” I ask.

  Grandma Kay chuckles. “Oh, I’d say a few. The first time I ever painted it was after Everett’s daddy left. It used to be blue, you know.”

  Gwen and I listen intently. “I never knew that,” I say.

  “Yep. I painted it red two weeks after he left. At first I thought I was broken. I was scared and alone. But then I decided that if I painted it a different color, Everett’s drunk, lousy daddy might not recognize it and keep on moving. As I was painting, I had a little conversation with my soul. We decided I was gonna be okay. This door has gotten a lot of people through a lot of heartache. I think it’s pure magic.”

  Gwen smiles as she swipes the fresh red on the door.

  Grandma Kay continues, “Some men need to move along and some need to stay. The key, ladies, is recognizing a keeper when you see him.”

  “Is Mike a keeper?” I ask her.

  “Oh, songbird, only you can answer that question.”

  “I knew Alex wasn’t a keeper,” Gwen says as her lips curl into an angry frown. “And dammit, I married him anyway. Never again. I will never settle again!”

  “Amen, Gwenny. Amen!” I watch Grandma Kay and Gwen tap brushes, and I smile. Even though my heart doesn’t currently need fixing, painting the door feels like the therapy I didn’t even know I needed.

  I SIT AT the kitchen table, biting my nails. The kids have been asleep for almost an hour and Mike still isn’t home from work. He texted me at five thirty to let me know that coming home early wasn’t going to happen. He had a late dinner meeting with some clients who were interested in the marketing strategy he’d been working on for months. I pray to myself that he comes home with good news. It might make my news even sweeter. I stir in my chair. I haven’t been feeling well all day. I know early pregnancy cramps are normal, so I try not to think about it.

  It’s almost ten when Roscoe lets me know he hears a noise. I pat him on the head and look into his eyes. “Thank you, Roscoe. What would I do without you?” His tail thumps twice before he refocuses on the door.

  Mike steps into the laundry room as I finish my silent prayer.

  “Hey, buddy! Who’s a good boy?”

  He’s happy. That must be a good sign. “Did you get it?” I ask.

  Mike smiles brightly. “You’re looking at the new marketing manager for Blue Bay!”

  “Yay!” I cheer as I rush to him. Mike grabs me around the waist and pulls me in for a hug. Could this day get any better?

  “Congratulations, Mike! I’m so proud of you. I know how hard you worked.”

  He nods and blows the air out of his lips in relief. He removes his tie and eyes me skeptically. “So, what’s this news you want to tell me?”

  I take his hand, and his brows furrow as I lead him to the couch. “Okay, so I know I’ve been a little out of sorts lately. But today, I figured out why.” I can’t help my smile. Mike squints his eyes and stares at me with interest.

  “Okay. Tell me,” he says, squaring his shoulders to face mine directly.

  “Before I tell you, I just want you to know that I’m committed to making this marriage and our life together work. I feel like today is the start of something huge. I can feel it in my bones. Our lives are about to change forever!”

  “You’re making me nervous. Just tell me.”

  I smile brightly and take a large breath. “I’m pregnant!”

  I watch the light leave his eyes. The smile slides off his face and is replaced with sheer terror.

  I backpedal in response. “I know it’s a shock. It was to me too. And at first, I was a little upset. But after a few minutes I realized what an incredible gift this is. We adore Kale and Marlow, and I know we’ll adore this baby too.”

  Mike stands and rests his hands on top of his head. He begins to pace. His eyes are focused on the ground. He stops and stares directly into my eyes. “Whose baby is it?” he asks. “Because I know it’s not mine.”

  “What?” I ask as I bolt from my seated position. “Of course it’s yours. I’d never…”

  “We’ve had sex once in the last few months, and I used a condom.”

  I shrug my shoulders. “We both know they aren’t always effective. We have Marlow to show for that.”

  “Yeah, but that time it broke. It was fine this time. I checked. You’re not as tight as you used to be.”

  I immediately find myself doing subconscious Kegels. I mumble, “Well, it doesn’t take you as long to come as it used to,” mostly out of retribution.

  “It can’t be mine. You’re lying to me!” He cocks his head and turns pale.

  “It is yours, Mike! How can you even question that?”

  He holds up his hand to ward off the truth. “Like I said, I’ve barely touched you!”

  “Yeah, I’m fully aware of that, but you and I both know it only takes one time.”

  He pauses for what seems like an eternity before he takes a step toward me. “How far along are you?”

  “I’m guessing a couple of months.”

  “And you’re just telling me now?

  I lean away from his angry stance. “I just figured it out. My periods aren’t exactly predictable.”

  “It has to be a mistake!”

  “I took two tests.” I pause to gauge his frame of mind. “You’re going to be a daddy again. It’s going to be okay.” I smile tentatively as I reach for him.

  He pushes me away. “You act like I should be happy about this! You can’t even take care of the two kids you have! God dammit! You had this planned, didn’t you? You tried to seduce me that night. What did you do? Put holes in all the condom wrappers?”

  My brows furrow with confusion. “Are you kidding me?”

  Mike begins to pace again. “I knew I should have just stayed away from you! You’re fucking poison! I swear you could get pregnant with a single look!”

  “Fuck you!” I shout.

  “No thanks. Fucking you is what continues to get me into trouble. Another fucking mouth to feed. Jesus, Everly. I wish I would have known you were Fertile Myrtle when I met you. I would have run the other way!”

  I’m finding it hard to breathe.

  “This whole thing with going back to school and helping out with bills was just another setup, wasn’t it? Just like the last time. It’s funny how every time you mention helping out around here, you end up pregnant!” Mike laughs to himself, and I can see he’s becoming more and more crazed with every word out of his mouth.

  My heart hurts. I didn’t intentionally get pregnant. Ever. I slump down into the couch.

  “I love the kids. I really do…” he continues. “But do you realize what you’ve done to me?” he asks.

  I stare at the ground. I feel like there isn’t enough air for the both of us. He seems to be angry and out of his mind. It’s a frightening combination.

  “We were supposed to have one kid! One! I promised my parents I’d stay married to you for five years. Then, just when I’m almost free, they go and sweeten the deal when you get pregnant yet again.”

  “Huh?” I ask. My eyes search his in fear.

  “Oh yeah!” He nods as he paces. Remember when you had Kay call them? Well, they said if I didn’t marry you, they’d cut me off. No more school. No more money. My dad said he could get me a job in his factory. Ha! Can you imagine these hands molding wire?” He holds up his soft hands, and I notice his nails look better than mine.

  I refocus on my nails. Parents forced him… My left nail is jagged. Stay with me for five years… There’s a hangnail on my pinky finger.

  “I had to marry you. I convinced myself the sex was good enough and I would be out in a few years with the rest of my life ahead of me. I encouraged you to go back to school so you’d be able to support yourself. I was going to take Kale with me. My parents said they’d watch him while
I worked. But then you end up pregnant, again, and instead of moving on with my life, I’m back at square one: off for my master’s degree, compliments of my parents’ attempt to keep their grandkids close. Now here I am. Back in the same vicious circle. I pity-fuck you and you’re pregnant? How many more years of torture am I supposed to take? When do I get to live my life?” He paces the room and his hands fly around his head as he speaks. Then he thuds forward and points his finger in my face.

  “Well, fuck this! I can’t do it anymore. You want your baby? Then have it, but I don’t want it and I don’t want you!”

  Mike grabs his keys, and before I can summon the will to raise my head, I hear the door slam. He’s gone.

  Nails look terrible…

  When does he get to live his life?

  Where’s my nail file?

  I don’t want it or you…

  I stand and stumble toward the bathroom. I open the medicine cabinet and my hands search for something. I can’t remember why I came in here. My eyes are focused on a mark on the wall. He doesn’t want me. He doesn’t want the baby. Parents forced him to… to… marry me?

  I’m hyperventilating or maybe having a panic attack. I can’t breathe. I feel tears spill down my cheeks. All these years? He was going to take Kale from me? My eyes dart toward the door, and I picture Mike standing in front of a judge, calling me unfit and unable to support a child. I see Mike walking away with Kale and Marlow in his arms. The room starts to spin, and I grasp on to the sink and lower myself to the floor. They’re mine. My babies! Mine! Can’t breathe.

  I press my cheek into the cool linoleum, and for a second, I feel better. Then the cramps remind me I’m not feeling well. Now the pain is everywhere. I heave with sobs. I curl up into a ball. I’m not sure how long I lie there. Time seems to be a blur.

  The next thing I know, I’m lying on the ground outside my Grandma Kay’s house. I can barely move. My head feels heavy and I don’t feel well. I see the red paint can with a brush on top. I stretch out for it, but it’s just out of my reach. I pull my body along the grass and feel the tip of the brush on my fingers. It’s hard and crusty, like it’s never been rinsed. It’s dirty and dark like my marriage. I muster all my strength and hurl my hand toward it. I knock over the paint can and the red paint washes over me. I’m covered in red, and it burns. My skin is wet and burning.

  My eyes flicker open. I’m on the floor in the bathroom. I feel damp, like in my dream. I force myself up on my arms and try to take deep breaths. I have to pull myself together. The kids are upstairs. I need to check on them.

  I push myself off the floor, and that’s when I see the red paint. Only it’s not paint—it’s blood, and I’m covered in it. The minute I stand, the pain in my abdomen gets worse. I think to call out to the kids for help, but they’d be so scared. I stumble into the kitchen, holding on to the walls, and reach my cell phone. I call Gwen, and she answers on the second ring.

  “Hey! What did he say?”

  “Gwen!” I try to say her name, but I’m only able to make the g and the w.

  “Ev? You okay?”

  “Bleeding. The baby.”

  “I’m on my way. Where’s Mike? Tell him to call an ambulance.”

  “Gone. Never really here.”

  “He didn’t come home? Ev? Stay with me. Talk to me. I’m calling an ambulance right now on my other phone.”

  “The kids. Need to stay with the kids.”

  “I’ll call Grandma Kay.”

  “No! Don’t scare her… don’t!”

  I hear her mumble in the background. My eyes wander over the dirty dishes in the sink. Then I focus on the pile of mail I need to go through. I try to concentrate on a cobweb I see hanging from the light fixture, but the pain causes me to fall to my knees and drop the phone.

  I hear her through the receiver. “The ambulance is on its way, honey! Okay? I’m on my way too. I’ll stay with the kids. It’s going to be fine. Talk to me, Ev. Please talk to me!”

  I STARE AT the cream-colored wall of my hospital room and the small crack toward the baseboard. I feel empty and alone. I lost the baby. She’s gone. I don’t know for sure if it was a girl, but in my heart, I feel her loss. Gwen called my Grandma Kay against my wishes, and she came to the house to stay with the kids. I asked her not to tell them anything, so she told them I wasn’t feeling well and that I’d be back in no time. She cleaned up all the blood so they wouldn’t see it. I can’t even imagine the scene I left, and I feel even guiltier for having to rely on her.

  Gwen wanders into my room with a big cup of Diet Coke and a cookie. “Hey, look what I found,” she says, holding them up. She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. I can barely look at her.

  I nod my head and go back to staring at the wall.

  “Talk to me.”

  I shake my head.

  “You need to talk about it,” she whispers as she places the items on a nearby tray table.

  I fixate on the wall. I can’t blink my eyes. “No, I don’t.”

  “Ev, please. You’re scaring me.”

  I force my eyes closed and think back to the emergency room doctor trying to find a heartbeat. I begged and pleaded with God to hear it, to let him find it, but there was nothing. Not a single sound. The doctor said it was an early-term miscarriage. The nurse tried to tell me it happens sometimes. That the fetus wasn’t viable and that it was nature’s way. Fuck nature and fuck her. Has she ever lost a baby? Did she think I wanted or needed to hear her tell me my baby wasn’t viable?

  Tears spill down my cheeks, and Gwen leans down to wrap me in her arms.

  I accept her embrace because as much as I want to be by myself, I also don’t want to be alone. My chin begins to quiver. My impending words cause physical pain in the back of my throat as I make my confession. “It’s my fault,” I whisper into her shoulder.

  She pulls back to regard me. “What do you mean it’s your fault?” she questions in a strained voice.

  My inner strife haunts me. I swallow hard. To say the words out loud confirms my betrayal in my heart. “When I first found out I was pregnant, I told God I didn’t want her. He listened. He took her away because he knew I didn’t deserve her.”

  She gently strokes my hair. “No!” Gwen blinks rapidly and grips my arm. “God wouldn’t do that. It’s not your fault! You can’t wish a baby away! And God knows you didn’t mean anything you might have said.”

  I recoil from Gwen. My extremities shake uncontrollably. “Does she? Does my baby girl know? Does she know how sorry I am? That I wasn’t good enough for her? That I wasn’t good enough to keep her safe?”

  “Ev, no! That’s not true. You’re the best mom in the world. You really are! Have I ever lied to you?” Gwen pauses, and I know she’s at a loss for words. She gives me a sidelong glance. “Except for that one time when I told you I didn’t eat your cupcake in college?”

  I know she means to make me smile, but I can't. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to smile again; the tears are endless.

  She clenches her jaw and reaches for me once more. “You didn’t do this. I know how you are. You blame yourself for everything. But you need to try to think like a nurse. We both know from school that sometimes things go wrong. Sometimes placentas detach, sometimes pregnancies are ectopic, and sometimes babies just aren’t…”

  I turn to face her as my sadness turns to rage. “Don’t you dare say viable! Don’t say it! She was alive. She was growing and thriving inside me, and now… now she’s gone. She was viable. Don’t tell me she wasn’t!”

  Gwen pulls back in haste. “I was going to say that maybe she just wasn’t meant to be. Sometimes God loves a child so much he decides he doesn’t want to lose them in heaven, so he calls them home before they’re even born.”

  I take small breaths as I cry. I close my eyes as my chest heaves. “I miss her. I want her back. I want her.” I grab hold of her arm as I whimper. “You know I wanted her, don’t you?”

  Gwen nods. “Of course you
did!”

  “I want another chance. I want my baby!”

  Gwen leans down and holds me once again. She stays with me until I cry myself out. Until I’m gasping lightly and my face is soaking wet. She leaves briefly and comes back with five boxes of tissues. My lip curls upward slightly when she dumps them around me. I know she’s trying to be strong for me, but she can’t hide her red nose. I know she’s been crying too.

  I hear her before I see her. She’s talking to the nurses outside my room and asking where I am. I try my best to pull myself together, but there isn’t enough time.

  She rounds the corner into my room and stops in the doorway. Her lips press together into a fine line, and I can see a slight tremble in her jaw. I lose it again, and she rushes over to me. I sit up and she takes me in her arms. I bury myself in her embrace. She doesn’t say a word and she doesn’t need to.

  We stay like that until I push away. Grandma Kay never pulls out of a hug first. It’s her thing. She wipes my eyes with her thumbs and lifts my head to look me in the eyes. “God doesn’t make mistakes. That baby was a gift while she was here, and we will always love her and remember her. Your mommy and daddy will take care of her for you. Don’t you worry your pretty little head, songbird. That baby is in your momma’s arms, and she’ll hold her until the day you come to get her yourself. Now that’s a long, long time away, and you have two other little angels who love you and need you here now. You need to remember that, okay? There are still a lot of blessings in your life. Understand?”

  I nod yes as she wipes the tears away and holds a tissue to my nose. “Now blow.”

  I try my best to appease her with a tiny puff.

  “Oh, come on. I can hear all the snot in there. Blow it like you mean it!”

  I blow hard and she and Gwen both chuckle through their restrained tears. I manage a small smile as I hold another tissue to my nose and take care of the rest myself.

  Grandma Kay reaches out her hand to Gwen, and she joins us on the bed. “We both love you, Ev. Don’t you doubt that for a single second. We’re here for you. Always.”

  I nod my head at them and realize how fortunate I am to have such strong women in my life. I need to pull myself together, if not for the kids, then in honor of my precious baby girl. Even though I only knew she existed for a few hours, she changed everything. I will feel the loss of her presence forever.