Love, Always (4 page)

“You missed the real show.” I wink at him and feel my lips twitch when he blushes.

He sits down on the patient bed next to me and I lean my head on his shoulder. I’m grateful he hasn’t reached his limit with me yet.

“Thanks for doing this.”

He puts my hand in his and entwines his fingers with mine. “Anytime.”

“When are you going on tour?” I ask and watch him blink uncertainly.

“I hadn’t really thought of it.”

“But you are going?” I want him to go because I don’t want to hold him back, but I’m terrified of losing my last strain of sanity if he goes.

“Yeah.” He runs his free hand through his hair before scratching his chin. “The guys have been hasslin’ me about going out. I just—”

“You should go,” I cut him off firmly, but I don’t dare look at him so my face won’t reveal how I truly feel.

“Dee…”

“Don’t
Dee
me. I’m fine.”

His sigh lets me know just how much he believes me. I’m fine, ha! Yeah, I’m also a horrible liar. Maybe if I start walking he’ll believe me. The beach, no definitely not the beach, I think as my spine stiffens and my breathing accelerates.

Adam looks at me, his eyebrows raised, but I shake my head at him and lean against his shoulder. He hums quietly next to me and I close my eyes as we both lose ourselves in our own thoughts.  

“Deeana Acosta?” my doctor asks when she walks through the door, and I extend my hand for a quick shake. “I’m Dr. Armas. And you must be dad.” She looks at Adam expectantly and he shakes her hand without saying a word.

I understand his silence. I can’t speak about what happened to the real dad either.

After going over the nuisances of establishing a new patient/doctor relationship, Dr. Armas squeezes a warm jelly onto my stomach, and within seconds of her starting the ultrasound I hear a fast-paced
bump bump bump
. I look back at her, my eyes wide, but she smiles back reassuringly.

“That’s your baby’s heartbeat.”

My baby’s heartbeat. I should feel joy. I look for it, but come back empty of anything except sadness. Adam wipes a stray tear from my cheek and kisses me lightly where it had trailed.

I watch as she takes pictures and measures with the transducer. I distantly listen to the heartbeat, but my thoughts are elsewhere, causing me to startle when Dr. Armas suddenly talks.

“Congratulations! You are just over eleven weeks pregnant,” Dr. Armas continues to speak, but I’m no longer listening to her.

I don’t want to be a mom. I don’t want this baby. I don’t want this life. I smile back at her, watching her lips move while Adam laughs at whatever she is saying. I want to laugh with them, to feel normal, but this little excursion has left me exhausted, and what I really want is to go back to bed and sleep.

“Do you have any questions?” Dr. Armas asks me.

“No. Yes.” I look back at Adam shyly and sigh. “My nipples are cracking.” From my peripheral vision, I can see Adam’s cheeks redden and I hide a grin.

“Let’s have a look.” Dr. Armas pulls my gown open and Adam looks away when she touches my nipple. “It’s normal,” she says, and I close my gown tightly to my chest. “You need to get nipple butter,” she pauses when Adam coughs, “or they’ll end up pretty painful.”

“Nipple butter.” I nod my head, trying really hard not to laugh at Adam’s discomfort.

“You can get it at any grocery store.”

“Right. Thanks,” Adam says, clearly ready to get out of here.

I look back at him when Dr. Armas leaves and I feel my face break out into a grin. An actual grin.

I walk to the car feeling a bit better than I had when we first arrived, but tired. Really tired. Adam squeezes my hand once before he opens the door for me and walks around to the driver’s side.

“Let’s go baby shopping,” Adam offers once we’re in the car.

I don’t know if he’s genuinely excited about the baby or just pretending for me. I reach for his hand and squeeze, feeling the little bit of happiness I felt evaporate, and he sighs. “Maybe tomorrow?”

“Dee, sweetie, you can’t keep on like this. This isn’t a life.”

“You’re right.” I nod sadly at him. “My life ended with Josh.”

“You have a baby to think about.”

“I don’t want the baby!” I yell at him. “Don’t you get it? I don’t want the baby. I don’t want you lookin’ after me. I don’t want any of this!”

“Yeah, well, this is what you got,” he whispers.

I fold my arms around my stomach defiantly and stare out the window, neither acknowledging him or the tears I can no longer hold back. I don’t want Josh’s baby, and it is the only piece of him that I have left. What the hell is wrong with me that I’m not cherishing it?

I open my car door as soon as Adam reaches our building and run away from him, from myself, as my tears continue to spill, blinding me as I make it up to my condo. I reach my room and close my shades before I curl up under my covers and cry myself to sleep.

I wake up with a migraine and reach for my pills, swallowing them dry. I follow the sound that woke me and find Adam putting together a crib. I bite my lip to stop the tears and the angry words running wild in my mind as I walk to him. This is what Josh would have wanted. He loved our baby possibly more than I could, and he’d want our baby to have a home and family. He’d want me to take care of our baby the way he intended to.

I run my hand over the wooden frame and force my lips to smile. “It’s beautiful.”

Adam smiles back at me, surprised at my reaction. “I bought some diapers and wipes. I wanted to get clothes and bibs, but we don’t know if it’s a boy or girl yet.”

“This is perfect, Adam. Thank you.” I walk to him and hug him, which he is apprehensive to return. “I’m a mess. I know I am, but I’m gonna try. For my baby.”

“I know it’s hard, sweetie. I miss him too. Every damn day I miss him.” He looks so sad, and I hate seeing Adam sad. He’s such a good person with such a tender heart; people like him shouldn’t have to go through what the rest of us demented side-show freaks experience. I touch his face with the palm of my hand, which he leans on, and I’m glad I’ve been able to give him some solace.

“It’ll get better,” I tell him, even though I don’t believe it. My world will never be better. This is the life destiny has forged out for me, but there’s no reason the people around me should suffer because of it.

“You’ll let me be a part of the baby’s life?”

“Of course, Adam. I can’t believe you’d even think otherwise.”

Uncertainty shines in his eyes, and although I don’t want to, I feel myself grow annoyed with this conversation. “Can I be the dad?” I stare at him, unable to blink my eyes or digest his words. “Dr. Armas already thinks I’m the dad, and we’d just sign my name on the birth certificate,” he rushes on. “Josh was my best friend. I don’t want your baby to grow up without a dad.”

“And as his best friend, you’re just stepping up to the plate?” I’m angry with him for wanting to take Josh’s baby away from him.

“Josh loved you, Dee. He wanted you and that baby to have a family.”

“To not be broken,” I suggest, and he agrees. But we’re already a broken family. “What about the band?”

“They don’t mean half as much to me as you and that baby do.” He’s so uncompromisingly sweet, always thinking of others and putting himself last.

“You and Josh were so happy with the upcoming tour. You’ve been working so hard for so many years, and things are finally happening,” I repeat the words Josh told me hours before he ceased to be. Things were finally happening and just because my world stopped doesn’t mean everyone else’s needs to. “Go after your dreams, Adam. The baby and I will be here waiting for you.”

“You won’t go with us?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

“No, Adam, I can’t. But, yeah, I want you to be the baby’s dad,” I add, and he hugs me, both of us holding on to each other as if we are the other’s salvation. Maybe the baby will be his salvation. At least one of us has some sort of hope for the future.

I walk towards the books Adam has been buying for the baby and try to regroup my thoughts so that I can pull them away from the negativity tugging at my heart strings. All is not lost, I remind myself, but only a small part of me actually believes it to be true. I pick up some Dr. Seuss books and sit on the floor as I skim through them. Adam goes back to building the crib and sings softly to himself as he works.

We look normal. Just like expectant parents. We could probably fool anyone who walked in on us into believing we are normal.

As I indulge in the simplicity of children’s stories and rhymes, I feel Adam kneel down beside me and he hands me his phone after hitting play. I look at the screen and feel my lips tug when I see his face flash onto the screen.

“This is for you, Dee,” Adam says from the phone, so I look back at him and he grins, and I turn my attention back to the phone.

I watch him walk through the grocery store and he only stops when he finds a young male associate. Poor kid is probably in his late teens and has no idea what Adam is up to. I have no idea what Adam is up to either, but I feel for the kid because Adam can be downright devious.

“Excuse me,” Adam calls out, and the boy turns his attention to Adam. “Do you know where I can find nipple butter?”

The camera shakes a little, but I see the boy look around. “What kind of butter?”

“Nipple butter.”

The boy laughs. “Say that again.”

“Nipple butter.” The camera shifts and I see a blurry Adam run his finger in circles over his nipples. “You know, for your nipples.”

The boy laughs again and I feel my body shake in laughter as well. “For your nipples?”

“Well, not mine.” I look back at Adam and find him watching me. He’s so sweet and cute.

“I don’t know what nipple butter is, man.” The boy looks around the store, but I can see he’s laughing.

“Can you find out?” Adam asks, leaving no room for him to say no.

“Uh, yeah.”

I lean my body against Adam and chuckle as the camera follows Adam’s paces as he stalks the aisle. After a long time, the boy returns and shows Adam where to find it.

I see Adam’s hand hold up the cream and wiggle it in front of the camera. “My nipples thank you.”

I lose it. I very literally lose it as I start to shake from laughter. I feel Adam laugh with me, and for just a moment I forget that I’m sad.

It’s a girl. I’m having a girl. I sigh in relief that I won’t be having a boy, a miniature Josh to mock me and the life I was robbed of. It’s been one hundred and four days since I lost Josh, and still I feel drained of any emotions but grief. But I hide it well enough that Adam rarely notices anymore. He thinks I’m doing better and will be leaving on tour in three days. Three days and I’ll be left to fend for myself. If I’m perfectly honest, I’m terrified. I’m scared I’ll go back to my dungeon and not come out to eat or bathe if he’s not there to help me. And I can’t lose Josh’s baby, Adam’s baby. I can’t bare another crucifix.

I’m no longer riddled with feelings of guilt. Josh tried to save me and our baby. It was his last declaration of love. When our daughter is old enough, I’ll tell her how much her daddy loved her without even laying his eyes on her.

Adam and I leave the doctor’s office after my scheduled five month prenatal visit and go straight to the store to pick out baby clothes, and I laugh at the amount of pink he is throwing into our shopping cart. I say laugh, but it’s not a real laugh, just a mirror of what I remember my laugh used to be. My laughter makes Adam happy, and since we’re playing at being a happy family, I figure I’ll help keep the illusion alive in his mind.