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And a breath of fresh air in an otherwise scary situation.
At thirty-two weeks along, and well and truly plump enough to pop, every day that draws closer to my due date sends licks of anxiety swirling in my blood.
Having Jack smile every time he sees my belly is a soothing balm on a savage burn.
“Do you want to feel, or are you just gonna stare like a weirdo?”
My words have Jack snapping out of his daydream and his eyes shooting up to mine. His cheeks stain pink as he greedily gulps scalding hot coffee as a distraction. “Bean hurting you?”
“No.” I smile and rub circles into a hard spot on the side. “I just like rubbing my tummy. Relaxes me.”
“Good morning.” Kit’s disgustingly happy sing-song voice cheerfully weaves into the kitchen and has both Jack and me scowling. Her hair’s still wet, but she’s dressed for work. Bobby follows two steps behind with a gross smirk and twinkling eyes.
“Morning.” I scoot aside so Kit can get to the coffee pot. “Nice shower?”
She blushes.
He grins like a dirty perv.
I make my breakfast and hurry my ass out before I gag at my brother’s smile. I have loads to do today. I pull stretchy jeans up over my inflated belly and go about getting ready for my day. I have class at nine, then group classes at the gym to run. Between those, I want to start looking at cars.
I’ve saved every penny I’ve ever come into contact with. I’ve been working full time at the gym since long before I graduated high school, and except for my not yet complete degree, I’ve been living for free in either Jon’s house, or Bobby’s.
I have enough money that my baby and I will be comfortable. Enough to gain a little more independence by buying a car.
I refuse to walk home from the hospital with my baby in my arms.
I’ll drive like a regular non-impoverished grown adult.
I brush my hair into a ponytail and swipe on a coat of mascara, then snatching my bag from the end of my bed, I lope out of the bedroom and jog downstairs before anyone stops me.
I catch a bus to school; which my brothers hate. They insist on chauffeuring me around, but catching a bus never killed anyone. For as long as I have to, for as long as I’m able, I’ll be walking my life on my own two feet. Even if that means using my feet to walk to a bus stop.
* * *
Later that afternoon, I walk into the gym with my book bag on my back and my gym bag on my shoulder. I’m packed down like a work camel and sweating despite the chill in the air. I throw both bags down under the reception desk and stretch up tall to relieve pressure on my sore muscles.
Just because I’ve had a good pregnancy, doesn’t mean I’m not tired and sore by the end of the day.
I bend my head to the side and crack my neck with a groan, then I start my walk around. The gym is loud and smelly. Just the way I like it.
I do this walk every day I’m here. I enjoy stretching my legs before I start work, and find pleasure in listening to our clients beating the shit out of bags and swearing at each other with false anger. Every time someonethinksthey have their guard up properly, but the jab gets through anyway – that’s when friendships are made.
Doing this walk is like therapy for me.
I start in the main room, the room with the cage, but zoom straight back out again when I discover Jim sparring with my brother, Jon. I don’t want to watch Jimmy shirtless and sweaty. I don’t want to see him right there, so close, but so unbelievably out of reach for me.
He’s too good for me. Too pure.
Shame washes through my gut and takes root in my heart every time I look at him. He’s a good man. Thebestman.Mybest friend.
He’s my soul mate.
I’d planned out our future; I’d even planned our wedding right down to who my bridesmaids are and what color they’ll wear, but somewhere in the last year, we lost each other.
He refused to see me the way I wanted to be seen. A woman. A woman worthy of something other than friendship. So I started dating. If he wouldn’t see, then I’d pry toothpicks under his eyelids and force him to look.
I’m a woman. I’m not a child. Not a little girl.
