The Birth (The Black Wing Book 1) (22 page)

“Is that your vehicle?” he said.

The sight of my truck broke our silence.

“Yes.” I answered.

“You always drive home alone?”

“Yes.” I repeated.

“Well, it looks like I’m driving you home then, give me your keys.”

“What?” I said gripping my keys.

“Judging from your small truck, and your huge belly, I doubt you have any room to fit and drive.”

I immediately notice he has no problem speaking his mind, especially when he regarded my belly as huge. It looks like the apple doesn’t fall from the tree. Dr. Graham successfully passed his heritable sarcasm to his son. Jeremy whistled a low tune at the mud stains, and the dents on my truck. I bet he doesn’t approve of women driving trucks.

“Thank you for your concern.” I started. “But I’m not letting you drive my truck.”

His father is a formidable opponent to boss me around, but not his son.

“I don’t want to drive your truck.” he replied. “Actually, it wouldn’t hurt you to give that poor thing some rest and a good cleaning. Dad said I’m supposed to bring your luggage to his house and pick you up tomorrow morning.”

“No—actually I never agreed to that!” I exclaimed.

That bingo playing Dr. Graham! I give in to one request and he continues to pull tricks up his sleeve! I looked at the window to his office and imagined him chuckling in his burgundy desk whispering
checkmate
.

“That’s what dad said I should do.” he continued. “Either way your truck is going to be here tomorrow morning for you to drive around as you please. Give that poor truck a break, I’m dropping you off, taking your stuff, and picking you up tomorrow morning. It’s not so hard is it? It’s
really
easy.”

Of all the nerve, he’s making it sound like my opposition is over something irrelevant! I took in a deep breath, and shook my head giving him my keys. I followed him to the vehicle beside me, how ironic, an even larger truck. It’s not just a recent model, but silver and clean. Jeremy’s truck is the yang to my truck’s yin, and it looks like we have a problem.

“How do you expect me to climb into that monster?” I said folding my arms.

Jeremy laughed. “Here let me help you.”

He opened the passenger door and offered me his hand. I looked at his hand like I haven’t seen one in decades. I tried to think of a time my husband offered my hand, but I couldn’t remember a single moment. When Jeremy noticed my stalling, I gave him my hand. When I reached to close the door, Jeremy stopped me and closed it himself. This must be what people call a gentleman trait. I instantly found this act attractive.

I rubbed my belly, imagining the gender of my baby. If I have a boy, I will raise him to treat everywoman with respect, and offer his hand when they need it. If I have a girl, I will raise her to be strong for herself, but allow a man to fulfill his duty to protect her.

The door closed on Jeremy’s side and he started the engine. The engine didn’t grumble and cackled like my old truck, it just growled like it was clearing its throat.

With my truck disappearing from my sight, we left the clinic.

As soon as we drove out of town, my directions became the only conversation starter. Since I don’t have to drive, I enjoyed the sight of the locals in their coats and ugly sweaters. The holidays bring this town together, there is laughter in the faces of everyone we pass by. I wonder if I can be like them, after my baby is born, nothing can hold me back from pursuing a happy life. This past month just the word family made me shrink. Now it doesn’t matter, Avalon helped me accept something I’ve been running for so long, reality.

If I never stepped into the woods, and met Avalon, I wonder if perspective of life would remain as bitter as it was. After moving to Washington State, I didn’t mix well with the locals. Everything I did was done with a stubborn, and defensive heart. Now I’m humbled to accept Dr. Graham’s hospitality and his son’s help! In such a short time, things have changed—I have changed.

As if tears had a scent, Jeremy took a glance at me, but I quickly blinked the waterworks away. He glanced back at the road, not saying a word. Avalon, it’s cold out there.

How are you?

T
he first hour on the road is beginning to affect me in a particular way. I held it in this long, but now I don’t think I can—not when my baby is currently using my bladder as a recliner!

“Can we stop for a minute?” I said, with increasing urgency.

“Are you crazy?” he said glancing at me. “Were in the middle of the highway, what for?”

“I have to pee.” I yapped.

“Why didn’t you say anything before we left the town?”

“It’s not something a single rest stop can treat.” I breathed.

“You can’t hold it in?”

“I’m in no position to control my pee. My baby is squeezing my bladder to the brink of exploding. Even if I were to skip water for the entire day—there’s no escape. If you won’t pull over, then you might as well drive me back to town, and admit me to the hospital because my bladder will be bursting any minute now!”

“Okay—okay! Give me a sec!”

Now Jeremy’s the panicked one, he kept an eye out for nearby vehicles and slowly pulled to the side. I have never sounded so vivacious! The third trimester doesn’t just compress your belly, but your patience quickly follows along.

When we came to a stop, I opened the door, ready to jump out like a spider. Seeing this, Jeremy quickly reminds me of the height from the truck to the ground. He jumped off his seat with grace, a jump I haven’t been able to this since my view of my feet disappeared. With his help, I climbed down his inconvenient truck. I danced, the only trees that can perfectly hide my privacy parts are blocked by the set up the wooden fences. I have no choice.

“Are you seriously going to pee straight out into the—”

“Turn away, I can’t hold it!” I cried.

Jeremy looked away. He cupped his ears like hearing my urine tinkle is a sin. The immediate relief followed, washing away my hot headedness. With the pressure gone, I opened my backpack and pulled out my best friend, the toilet paper.

Jeremy has frozen in time, his back still faced me with his hands tightly covering his ears. When I tapped his shoulders, he jumped. It’s difficult to tell him I’m ready to go without smiling.

My urge to pee didn’t initiate a conversation. I think it gives Jeremy a bigger reason to not converse with someone who just urinated in the open. I much rather have Dr. Graham as company, my experience would be much different. I’m confident that by now Dr. Graham and I would be singing
Camp-town Races
and
Kumbaya
. Within 15 minutes, the impulse to pee returned, I shifted in my seat, hoping to push this growing desire a minute longer.

“How many times do you do this?” asked Jeremy, seeing my obvious movements.

“At least ten.”

“You’re kidding!” he exclaimed. “It will be hours before we get to your home.”

“It will be less with the way I was holding it the first time”

Jeremy shook his head, keeping his eyes straight ahead, just realizing what trouble he got himself into. It’s a sign that this is his first official encounter with a pregnant woman. He looks around my age, at least old enough to have children. I don’t know what Dr. Graham said into forcing him to do this, but now I’m starting to feel sympathetic. The poor guy was probably on his way home, maybe he was getting ready for a date, or was about to invite his father to lunch! Whatever Dr. Graham did, he did it mercilessly.

Within an hour on the road, being the passenger became tiresome. I don’t need to keep my eyes on the road, the broken window on my truck isn’t blowing to keep me awake. Come to think of it, Jeremy must be tired too. From the looks of his clothes, he’s done his work for the day.

“I’m sorry for the trouble.” I said in mid-yawn.

Jeremy glanced at me, and focused back on the road. He shrugged his shoulder, and said his dad has a way with words to manipulate you. That is no lie. 

“Besides.” he added. “When I found out you were the infamous Lola, I had to make my old man happy and do as he asked.”

“Infamous?” I said feeling my cheeks grow hot.

It’s confirmed, the clever Dr. Graham has been gossiping about me! Not just to his wife but to his own son!

“Well, he never gave out a name.” he confessed. “I’d just hear him ramble about a stubborn patient. ‘Pregnancy should not be taken lightly!’ he’d yell. When I saw your belly and your truck I had to conclude he was talking about you.”

“I didn’t know I was so problematic.” I said half lying.

“Well you don’t need to be a genius to know you want keep to yourself. That’s the ingredient that drives my old man crazy. By the way, did it occur to you that Natalie was purposely making you wait?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he probed.

“I have my reasons.” I justified. “I was rude to her last time, so I didn’t want to be rude again.”

Jeremy laughed, but I’m starting to question which of us he is laughing at.

“Why did you decide to live so deep into the Okanogan Forest?” he said. “That specific road of yours is almost invisible on the GPS.”

It looks like our sacred silence is now broken. Jeremy has questions, and needs to be entertained. For the trouble of taking me home, I thanked him by answering.

“I need a home to live.”

“You couldn’t find one in the city?”

“I don’t have that kind of money.” I responded.

Jeremy grew silent, letting my words sink in. He quickly changed the topic by sharing his life in the country.

“It’s on the east side of town. It’s not even close from being this far. I own some land, and run a small business selling organic crops. You’d think I end up being a doctor like my dad, but I turned out completely different.”

It’s true, you can see the huge contrast from Jeremy’s muddy boots, and Dr. Graham’s polished shoes. I still remember the cracked dirt on Dr. Graham’s elaborate Persian rug. Come to think of it, Dr. Graham had different rugs every other month. I couldn’t help but chuckle, now I the culprit is Jeremy.

“What’s so funny?” he said.

“It’s a cough.” I lied. “Just a cough.”

We didn’t cover much road without making several more stops to release my bladder. But by the last stop, our destination grew near. This trip has never felt this short, I suppose driving with company is much better than driving alone.

With daylight savings time ending, Jeremy will be driving back home at dark. When I glanced at him he yawned for a long period. His large jaw expanded and his straight nose crinkled. He caught me staring at him, with speed—I looked away.

“I noticed dad seems especially concern for you. Is this your first child?” said Jeremy. “I’m not trying to be nosy or anything. I think talking will help me right now.”

If he runs his own crops, I assume he has to sleep before the sun sets and wake up before the sun rises. Way to use your son to become father of the year Dr. Graham.

“Yes.” I finally replied.

Jeremy leaned towards me and whispered.

“You’re really not that talkative huh.”

I looked away, annoyed that he tried to make a secret out of my lack of speech.

“So I’m guessing you’re married?” he added returning his attention to the road. “Come on, help me out here.”

“I’m married.” I responded. “At least, until my baby is born.”

“What does that mean?”

“My husband doesn’t want to be a father.”

“I’m sorry, it must have been really hard.” said Jeremy. “Can I put some music for you? What do you like?”

Once again, Jeremy quickly reformed our conversation. It looks like this sort of stuff has gotten him into trouble. I can’t blame him for trying to fight off Dr. Graham’s habit in asking personal questions.

“We like classical music—piano.” I said taking my baby into consideration.

“Great, I like piano as well.” continued Jeremy.  “Looks like I have a new friend when the baby is born.”

I glanced at him and he glanced back at me—Jeremy instantly turned away. Ignoring his amusing comment, I returned to be the silent passenger.

We entered the Okanogan forest, my first thought came to Avalon. Should I bring her some more soup—no she doesn’t want me to get near her. I can’t even contact her, how will I know if the Elite have arrived?

“Are we almost there?” said a yawning Jeremy.

With the natural landscape engulfing the view around us, Jeremy probably feels like he reached his boundaries. For a man who lived in Washington State his whole life, he looks untired of the greenery and the endless rocky hills. He added that the passing vehicles ended when he made a turn on this road. I enlighten him and told him not many take this old road.

“You must feel crummy living this far and by yourself.” he commented. “I would go crazy.”

“It doesn’t bother me.” I defended.

“Seeing for myself, the distance from town, you’re a little too bold to be pregnant and traveling this far.”

In that instant, Jeremy is treating me distinctly, like the people who made my life ill. Why should his opinions determine whether I could survive or not.

“I’m sure you may feel that way because you have a family to come home to. I can assure you that I don’t find living here dangerous or lonely.”

It’s easier for people to pity a poor, pregnant, and single woman. I didn’t get any sympathy when I lived with my abusive husband. It’s harder to sympathize with what you cannot see, because you’re compelled to do something about it.

“I don’t have a family.” said Jeremy “Although I guess you could say I was close to having one.”

“Your wife can’t have children.” I concluded.

“No, she didn’t become my wife. I mean—we were engaged and all—planned our wedding along with all that good stressful stuff. Everything went to shit after we sent out the wedding invitations. We’ve been together for a long time, but it turns out she was also with someone else for half of that time. I only found out when the man she was with knocked on my door and spilled the beans. My mom had to send another letter saying the wedding was off. What’s worse is that I’m still have to talk to her and be her friend. My ex’s mother said her daughter has been miserable, and is acting suicidal—what a turn of events for me.”

Jeremy could’ve said ‘things didn’t work out’ and I wouldn’t ask for more. He didn’t stop there, Jeremy went on without a catch for breath. He didn’t need to go into great detail, but he did anyway. We all have diverse minds, I understand if he’s dealing with his pain differently.

“You’d think she would fess up and move on, maybe marry the other guy instead. Instead, she clings on to me, her ex-fiancé to pick her up and pat her on the back. I don’t understand why women put themselves on an altar and make us men bow to them just because their feelings are hurt. What makes her think I wasn’t hurt?”

“I wouldn’t know” I replied.

“I was!” he exclaimed. “What makes you think I wasn’t? My love for her turned out to be a lie!”

“I have never hurt my husband like that.” I explained. “So I wouldn’t know.”

“Any girl has hurt and driven her man furious. Women are manipulative beings, they think they’re so clever at influencing us with guilt-ridden trips. We know their game, but they continue to play their life like some cheap soap opera—it pisses me off.”

Jeremy statements are agreeable. My mother was the same way with my stepdad. In poverty, she strived to survive. This survival meant making herself number one in emotions, money, and necessities. My siblings fell second, and my stepdad was third. I was not on the list. Jeremy has every right to speak that way, he’s exhaling manifested hurt from the infidelity of his ex-fiancé. At the same time, his annoyance of the opposite gender bothers me. I’m a woman aren’t I? Or is incubating a baby temporarily exempts me from being a female.

He’s beginning to remind me of my husband, who often addressed women being of no value. During our fights, he liked to remind me that he married me out of pity. When Jeremy persisted about the immoral motives of women, I decided to shed some light to his approach on the topic.

“Not all of us are this way.” I said politely.

Hoping he would get the idea that I’m a woman, he got more furious.

“Well point her out!” he snapped. “No offense, but I’m sure you pissed off your husband many times.”

“I never ‘pissed off’ my husband.”

My impression of Dr. Graham’s son is starting rot. I’m not his target, but he’s been comparing my flawed marriage to his shattered hopes and dreams. For Jeremy to get this hysterical, I cannot imagine the damage his ex-fiancé caused.

“You’re telling me you’re not responsible for your actions in your relationship? You can’t tell me you never argued with him.”

“Yes.” I admitted. “I did.”

“Exactly, which means you provoked him instead of trying to assess the situation!”

“Please, drop it.” I prompted. “You don’t know what I went through—”

“Try me.” he tested. “The last 4 years of my life have been a complete illusion. I got stabbed in the heart by the woman everyone least expected would do something as low as hold a long-term relationship with her boss!”