Judging June (Downtown) (10 page)

The second I woke up in the hospital I knew something terrible had happened. I felt an emptiness on the inside that was indescribable. There was so much pain, a deep agony learning about losing my baby. I wanted to die it was that painful. I wouldn’t even wish this on my worst enemy; no one deserves to go through such turmoil.

I was so drugged up I didn’t know what time or day it was, everything was a blur. I slept so much I couldn’t tell what was real or not. However I had feelings of being comforted as I cocooned myself in a fetal position. Somehow it brought me peace and I wanted to stay that way forever. Unfortunately once they decreased the medications and I was more alert, all I wanted was my mom. Having miscarried before, she knew what it felt like to have that horrible emptiness inside; a void that cannot be filled, irreplaceable. Yet I still couldn’t talk with her about it.

After being stuck in the horrid hospital for a few days I was dying to get out and go home.
I just wanted to be home.

Oh wait, but Phillip.
. . . .Oh God. . . . what he must be dealing with right now. I’m not the only one who had lost the baby, yet my body won’t let me forget. I don’t want to forget. If I start to worry about other people then I feel as if I’m betraying my baby.
Sounds awfully mad, I know.
I haven’t seen him since I screamed for him from the bathroom. He was the last person I saw before I blacked out. I wanted him to be the first person I woke up to, but he was no where near me. I desperately needed him.
Where was he?

I was finally discharged from the hospital; my parents drove me back home and the minute I stepped inside my apartment all I wanted to do was lay down. I didn’t even notice Phillip was there, I was so tired. I wanted to be in my fetal position again and not feel anything. My parents helped me get settled in, and although I knew Phillip was here I had yet to talk with him. Until finally I felt his arms around me, spooning my fetal position. The comfort I must have felt in the hospital had to have been Phillip, there’s no other explanation.

Wow, I love his embrace, his smell, his. . . .
everything.

“Hey,” he whispers in my ear.

The strong bond I am feeling with him right now makes me want to open up. I haven’t talked to my parents or Faith about the loss; I couldn’t open up to them for some reason, but with Phillip. . . . .he’s the only one that understands right now.

My voice sounds hollow when I speak, I don’t even recognize it. “I was thinking of Heather for a girl, or Samuel for a boy.”

“June -”

“Now I can’t,” I sadly cut in. “Now I can’t, because the baby doesn’t exist anymore. Gone—Poof! Like it never even happened. How can that even be, just when I finally accepted it. Doesn’t seem real or possible that one minute I have a human being inside my belly and then the next minute. . . . . . it’s not there.” I choke on my last words, “It’s really not fair,” covering my face with the sheet.

Phillip doesn’t respond to anything after that. He doesn’t need to, because I know he agrees with me. I suddenly feel tired so I drift off within Phillip’s embrace. You see? Comfort—like an old blanket or stuffed animal, he brings me contentment.

She already had the names figured out. . . . .fuck, our unborn baby had a name! Damn, I wish I never even knew about that. It just became more real.

I’m exhausted and in desperate need of sleep, yet my mind won’t turn off. I’m eager to fall asleep as I hold June, but I know I can’t. June’s breathing has become deep and I know she’s fallen back to sleep. I quietly untangle myself from her, hoping I won’t stir her awake, and exit the room.

I wipe a hand down my face, closing the door behind me. “How are you doing?” Faith asks. She’s been here every day, along with Virginia looking after June. I’m a bit caught off guard with Faith’s sudden acknowledgement. I haven’t been asked by anyone about how
I’m
feeling. “Me?” I scoff. “I feel like a part of me has died. Literally.” I stroll into the kitchen and grab a beer. The stress of the past few days has caught up to me and I suddenly need a drink.

She follows me into the kitchen and leans her hip against the counter, crossing her arms. “I’m so sorry, I can’t imagine what you’re going through.”

“Yeah.” I pop my beer open and take a long slug of it. “You’re actually the first person who has asked,” I retort bitterly. I don’t really know why I’m ticked off, I mean it’s not like I haven’t had the support or anything. My parents call every day, June’s friend Peta came over and cooked for us, Faith’s mother, Helene grocery shopped so I wouldn’t have to do it. So, I can’t say no one has helped. Yet no one has bothered to ask how this whole thing has affected me.

Faith blinks and is taken aback. “What?”

I slam my bottle on the counter making her jump, but I don’t care. I’m all of sudden really pissed off. “No one ever gives a shit about what the father goes through just because he wasn’t the one carrying the baby. It’s almost like I had nothing to do with creating that kid!” I point to my chest, shouting, “A part of me, inside June’s body, died! And there is not a goddamned thing I could have done! It’s fucking painful, Faith! I’m hurting just as much!” I didn’t give her any time to react. I have to get out of here before I throw my beer bottle across the room. “I need get out of here.” I whip by Faith, grab my keys and storm out of the apartment.
I really want to get wasted.

The last place I should be is at Montgomery Suites. Faith would piss herself if she knew I was getting drunk in her hotel.
Fuck it.
I’m doing it anyways.

How many drinks have I had? Not counting.

Sitting at the bar with drink in one hand, and eyes on the TV watching. . . . . . I’m so drunk my vision’s blurred, but it sounds like The Tonight Show. I don’t know.

What the hell is that awful perfume I smell? Someone must have sprayed themselves with the whole bottle. Smells like shit. However, out of nowhere I feel a hand on my knee. “You look as if you lost your best friend? Wanna talk about it?”

Christ, where the hell did this chick come from?
Fuck, just go away.
“No. I’m good,” I respond with a slur, and jerk my knee away from her hand. I ignore the nasty, smelling woman and take another drink.

After downing the last drop of my Whiskey and wishing for another refill, the woman seductively suggests, “Well, if you change your mind?”

“I won’t,” I quickly answer back. “Just want to be left alone.”

The smell went away. I guess the woman did too?

I order another drink, because that’s what I’m here for—to get wasted. I believe I’m past wasted though. I’m about to down it gone when someone else interrupts my pity party. “Mr. Caffrey, you’ve been here a few hours now, would you like me to call a cab for you?”

She sounds sweet, but dammit, she needs to give me some space. “Does it look like I’m ready to leave?” I growl.

She’s a persistent little thing. “You’ve had a lot to drink—“

“Yeah, who cares?” I clip back. I get up from the stool and stumble; I grab onto its back and raise my voice at the nice woman. “Will you please leave me the hell alone!”

“Phillip.”

Faith. . . . dammit.
“Fuckin’ perfect,” I mumble. “The witch doctor has arrived.” I should just walk away, but I can’t seem to see the ground clearly enough. The fucking room is spinning—
shit.

“I won’t take that as an insult because you’ve been drinking. . . . excessively. You’ve been through a lot and you’re hurting,” she points out.

I keep my hands on the stool with my head down. “Yeah, I’m hurtin,’ so let me be,” I snap at her. Faith should kick me out on the street, I’m being such a dick.

“I have a room for you, so why don’t we take a trip up there, shall we?” She suggests. She calmly places her hand on my shoulder and insist I come with her; it’s either be thrown out onto the street, get arrested or crash in a hotel suite. I take the hotel suite, and slowly get guided by Faith. Fuck, I really don’t deserve this. She’s being way too generous for my own good.

I try my hardest to stay awake as we hoist up the many stories, in the elevator.

I need sleep. A good long, uninterrupted sleep.

Faith leads me over to the bed and orders me to drink the bottle of water she hands me. I comply and drink it down.

“Are you going to be okay?”

I crash onto the bed and put my arm over my eyes. “Don’t know.”

“It’s going to take time, Phillip. For both of you.”

Can we speed up time then? I’m really looking forward to the day when I don’t feel like shit anymore.

“I need sleep,” I mumble.

“Good idea.”

Faith leaves and I pass out.