Mine To Lose (15 page)

Jordan was in a good mood when he arrived home earlier than usual on Monday night. He had bought pizza and rented two movies, got himself some vodka and bought me some non-alcoholic beer. I could not believe it, but I had learned to keep my amazement to myself; I wasn’t going to spoil a good thing while I had it.

I knew that he had gone to visit Martha the night before, even though he told me he’d had to attend a meeting about the television series they were shooting on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. I guess his excuse was half true, as I checked with Jack if those days really were recording days. Jack had informed me that Sundays were indeed meeting days for the writers, but Jordan had stayed out much later than the duration of the writer’s meetings.

‘You can drink non-alcoholic beer, right?’ he asked enthusiastically.

‘Of course!’ I cheered and slapped him on the ass. ‘I’m pregnant, not dead.’

Only after I said it did I realise that I mentioned the dreaded parasite sickness I had to the Anti-Father, but Jordan hardly reacted, to my relief. He just smiled and unpacked the bags of fast food and poured us each a glass of our respective drinks.

‘Don’t you miss drinking?’ he asked unexpectedly.

I hesitated answering, carefully formulating my answer. ‘I do, a little.’ I pulled up my nose in the cutest way and giggled. It made Jordan smile, and that was good enough for me.

‘Um, just a question,’ I warned with my hands up, ‘but I have to go for my check-up tomorrow. Did you maybe want to come with me?’ I asked, waiting for that darkness to cross his face. I now called it ‘The Martha Effect’.

‘I won’t be able to,’ he objected tactfully. ‘Work is getting crazy. Tomorrow, I have to meet Leslie for the re-write of Wednesday’s script before recording. Maybe next time?’

That was remarkably un-hostile of him, and every instance where I did not get a sermon or an insult was worth accepting. Although we were drifting apart, I still hoped he would eventually accept his role in this, abandon his need for Martha’s approval and come back to me –
us
– me and our baby. As strong as I was, I found it nearly impossible to imagine life without his support, without his presence.

‘No worries. I know they are riding you at work,’ I played along and passed him almost half the pizza on a plate. ‘There, glutton, have at it.’

Jordan looked happy with my response and my mild demeanour. The night went quite well after that. No talk of work, babies or needing him while I harboured the awful secret knowledge of his infidelity. God, I would forgive him everything, it seemed. Why could men not place themselves in our positions like we imagined their reasons for transgressing and forgiving them? Or was it just the nature of the stock I chose to share my life with?

The next day was a terrible mix of wind, drizzle and pale sunlight that just tormented those hopeful for a bit of normality. It was nearing summer, apparently, but the calendar was useless aside from marking the weeks of my pregnancy. Nearing 16 weeks, I knew why Dr Pane was annoyed at me for only making my appointment with the gynaecologist now, but I had been reluctant for many reasons. With Jordan tolerating me at home, I didn’t want to deal with the pregnancy’s official business like check-ups and procedures yet, but I realised that putting it off was only making it worse.

The tall, modern building towered over me as I stood in front of the entrance. Off-white walls made of smooth pebbles nestled in the concrete stretched rigidly in the unimaginative design of the structure. Plain square windows sat uniformly in rows on every one of the four stories, resembling the mundane design of the square aluminium door below. With posh slanted lettering in black shading, the sign read
‘Bisby, Howard and Partners – Medical Centre’
and around it some half-assed attempt at making the sign look friendly by adding a painted ribbon motif.

‘Well,’ I told my baby, ‘here we go. Hopefully, I can meet you today.’

Hoping that the receptionist had forgotten my ridiculous response to her call the week before, I walked into the chock full waiting area. Several pregnant women in various stages of their terms sat uncomfortably, accompanied by mothers and husbands. Only two of them were there alone, like me, but both looked like dirt poor teens from the bad side of town.

‘Mrs Winston to see Dr Howard,’ I said under my breath when one of the receptionists finally made eye contact.

‘Mrs Winston,’ she mumbled as she checked the appointments. ‘Ah! Yes, please fill in this form and bring it back to me with your medical aid details and an identification card as soon as you’re done, Mrs Winston.’

I read her name tag –
Bev
.

Oh God, I hope she has a terrible memory,
I thought behind my smile.

When I walked into Dr Howard’s examination room meets office, I was nervous as hell. I wasn’t used to being poked and fingered by anyone other than my husband, and the thought terrified me. I had never been one to see women’s doctors anyway. Thus far, I had been blessed by good gynaecological health and never really needed to be examined so intimately by a stranger before.

‘Don’t worry, I’ve seen it all,’ she said, tapping her pen against her chin.

That is Dr Howard?
I marvelled.
She looks just like James’ older sister!

She smiled kindly, setting me at ease instantly. ‘I’m Dr Howard. Nice to meet you.’ She shook my hand and chuckled, ‘See? I have warm hands. All is well.’

After some small talk and some background discussed from the file Dr Pane had sent her, she ordered me playfully to lie down.

‘Now,’ she announced, ‘let’s see how baby is doing, shall we?’

The ultrasound machine looked ominous, like some torture device from a Sci-Fi movie. I gasped as she applied the ice cold gel, making her chuckle. I could not help staring at Dr Howard as she taught me all the names for the interesting biological thingies I was going through, as she rolled the scanner head over my small, tightening belly.

‘Where is hubby?’ she asked as the repetitive whooping sound of my baby’s heartbeat sounded on the machine.

‘Oh, he’s at work. He’s very busy, but he promised to join me next time.’ I smiled, regrettably making excuses for a cold father.

I stopped thinking about Jordan to listen to my baby’s heartbeat.

‘Is that what I think it is?’ I asked excitedly. She nodded, but her smile faded as she peaked her ears at something.

‘Katie?’ she said softly.

‘Yes?’

‘Do you also hear two heartbeats?’ she asked.

‘Yes, but I thought one was mine,’ I guessed.

‘Oh, no,’ she shook her head slowly, looking fascinated. ‘Look at that.’

I looked at the screen, and as Dr Howard moved the infrared scanner from side to side, we discerned two separate foetuses.

‘No way,’ I whispered.

‘Yes way,’ Dr Howard grinned. ‘Twins, my sweetheart! You’re having twins!’

I was speechless. Nothing was worthy of what I was feeling. No words would do that feeling justice. My eyes watered up, and at the prospect of how Jordan was going to react I just started sobbing. She hushed me gently and said, ‘Let’s take a picture?’

‘Pl-please?’ I choked on my tears.

‘You’re a lucky lady.’ I felt so safe with her. Just before I left, she laid her hand on my shoulder and said, ‘Now remember not to get too stressed out over anything, alright? With twins, you have to be twice as careful.’

‘I will,’ I smiled through my tears.

***

When I got home, the house was empty and quiet. Jordan was late again. But I didn’t care. I could not stop looking at the black and white printout of my babies.

‘Look at them,’ I said to myself, ‘my own babies. Listen to that, Gramps! Did you hear that?
Babies
. More than one!’

I could feel my mischievous grandfather there with us in the apartment. Even though the love of my life was absent, distant and unwilling, I felt loved and warm in the presence of those who had not yet been born and those who had passed on. My family, all of whom were probably together in the Great Somewhere between death and birth, surrounded me. I didn’t feel alone, just excited and absolutely fulfilled.

Only after I had watched the 9 o’clock news did Jordan arrive home. He looked drained, but I thought he might perk up when I told him the good news. It wasn’t many men that could boast of siring twins.

‘Please don’t ask where I’ve been. I am tired,’ he simply said as he sauntered into the kitchen. ‘Any dinner?’

I couldn’t refrain myself. The scan in my hand was burning me. ‘Look, Jordan! We’re having twins!’ I shrieked.

He showed no reaction. Even when I presented the printout of the ultrasound, he just rummaged through the fridge for something to eat. It was time to stop being nice about it all. He had gone too far in his indifference to his own children.

‘Jordan, did you hear what I said?’ I asked.

‘Yes, Katie. You have not made any dinner, and I’m starving. All you seem to have prepared was that picture,’ he sighed.

‘Jesus Christ!’ I exclaimed. ‘Are you seriously such a humongous prick? These are your children! How can you be acting like this?’

‘I never asked for them!’ he yelled, slamming the fridge door. ‘You wanted children all of a sudden, not me! You have been using this pregnancy to destroy our marriage, our freedom and to distance me from my mother who needs me! Don’t you think of anyone but yourself?’

‘WHAT?’ I screamed, completely in disbelief at his accusation, drenched in hypocrisy. ‘You’re beyond a prick, Jordan! I don’t think there is a name for what you are, in fact, you cold-hearted son of a bitch!’

Jordan lunged at me, but before he reached me, he seemed to come to his senses. I couldn’t breathe as panic coursed through my body, my stomach pulling tight and my legs going numb. His eyes flared with utter hatred for me, a look I never thought I would ever see in him. It shattered my heart right there. Within a moment, he had grabbed his car keys.

‘I’m going to see my mother. At least there, I’ll be fed!’

As he slammed the door, I felt a terrible numbness take me. I was in shock – shock from emotional trauma, but I did not shed a single tear.

‘Congratulations!’ Pam chimed like a sexy Irish bell, holding yet another cake above her face before putting it on my desk.

‘Damn, Pam, you’re going to make sure I have baby weight after all this! You don’t have to ...’ I tried to protest, but she shut me up.

‘Happy Month Number Five!’ she cried, passing me the knife to slice up the monthly cake she vowed to deliver until the twins were born. My belly moved, instantly drawing her eye.

‘Where’s my kicks?’ she cheered as she put her palm on my belly, waiting for movement. It had become such a normal thing at the office that I did not even bother to fight them off anymore. I sliced the cake, dishing up a slice for myself. No matter how I tried to stay aware that sugar and high caloric foods would destroy my figure after the babies were born, I could not resist at least two more helpings of the Greek chocolate Pam knew I loved so much.

‘Don’t sweat it,’ she shrugged. ‘Those two little mice will gobble up the majority of the calories, Mum.’

‘I hope you’re right,’ I replied, revelling in the delight of the dark cocoa and its creamy consistency. ‘God knows since Daddy spends most nights away from home these days, I have to eat all the dinner myself.’

Much as I was saddened by Jordan’s coldness toward me, I couldn’t deny that I expected nothing less. Pam tried to make my misery bearable with her great talent for humour, which was very sweet ... and most of the time she succeeded wholly in her attempts.

I can’t remember what she said in return, but it made me laugh so hard I could not stop. We cackled like a coven of old witches, our eyes filled with tears at the hilarity.

‘Oh, my God, Pam, I’m pissing myself here!’ I laughed.

She stuffed another piece of cake into her mouth, trying not to choke under the force of her giggle fit. But then I felt it again, and I ceased my laughter in panic.

‘What’s the matter?’ her muffled question came through a mouthful of cake.

‘I think ...’ I hesitated, feeling quite embarrassed, ‘... I think I just peed in my pants, Pam.’ I frowned, keeping dead still to assess the strange sensation.

‘Of course,’ she jested. ‘I am that good, you know.’

‘No, Pamela, I just felt water running out,’ I gasped, terrified. ‘What does that mean?’ I shrieked softly, looking down at the dark fleck on my pants where the wetness seeped out. ‘Pam, what the fuck is this? Is this supposed to happen?’ She jumped out of her seat and rushed to my side.

‘I have no idea, babe,’ she said seriously. ‘Come on. Let’s get you to the hospital. It could be nothing, but I’m not taking any chances.’

***

Pam was holding my hand as Dr Howard examined me. For once, the cordial doctor appeared slightly off her game, just concerned enough to shoot me into a panic. Pam pressed my hand and surreptitiously shook her head, mouthing, ‘Relax.’

But relaxing wasn’t on the cards for me. Soon after, Dr Howard’s controlled concern turned to a hushed phone call to Allenby General. Her murmurs sounded urgent, yet her face did not show an ounce of tribulation.

‘Doctor?’ I said after she hung up the phone. ‘Doctor, please tell me what’s wrong.’

Pamela squeezed my hand again but said nothing.

‘You’re leaking amniotic fluid, my dear,’ she informed me. ‘It is usually not the end of the world, but I am just playing it safe. I am having you admitted to Allenby’s Maternity Care wing so that we can have our eye on you for the next few days.’

‘Are my babies going to be okay?’ I asked, feeling my body rush with adrenaline similar to that day when I fell from the sky to what I thought would be my death.

‘You should be fine, Katie,’ she affirmed, ‘but it is not something we can just brush off as a bit of a leak.’

‘So, does that mean her water is already breaking?’ Pam asked Dr Howard.

‘Technically that is what is happening.’ Dr Howard sighed. ‘The sacs the babies are in are both losing water because the placental wall is ruptured somewhere, which means the babies have less fluid in which to develop.’

‘Are they going to die?’ I wept.

‘Let’s say if we don’t get you to the hospital and treat you for the next few days, it could be catastrophic, but I have summoned an ambulance to collect you shortly. I shall meet you there, okay? Don’t worry. You will be fine, dear,’ Dr Howard soothed.

They admitted me an hour later as a high-risk pregnancy. Who would have thought after all this time of things going so smoothly that my body would suddenly rebel and turn on my babies? I was extremely upset and could not stop crying until they administered a suitable sedative to relax me. Pam promised to call Jordan even after I advised her against it. No matter how I insisted that he could not give two shits, she assured me that she would give him a talking to that would get him to the hospital. I didn’t want that. Jordan had been drifting away from me, aided by the oars of his beloved mother. There was such spite in his actions these days that no amount of psychological trickery would convince him to love me again.

‘I know exactly what he would say if he found out about this,’ I told her, trying to restrain her from getting up and chasing him down. ‘He’d say this is my just deserts for wanting to go through with the pregnancy. I know it. He will tell me that this is my punishment for not aborting.’

‘Fuck that,’ were her last words to me as the haze filled my vision. ‘I’ll sort him out.’

Valiant as her intentions were, I turned out to be right. When Pam came to see me the following day, she reluctantly admitted defeat.

‘Did you speak to him?’ I asked, my speech still slurring a bit from the wonderful calming effect of the meds they put me on. It wasn’t in Pam’s nature to accept anyone’s decline. She looked peeved.

‘What a dick!’ she seethed. ‘You were right. I can’t believe how insensitive he is. You know, he said exactly what you told me he would! Just like that! ‘Tell her to call me when she has given up this ridiculous baby business.’

‘Told you so,’ I said.

‘In other words,’ she ranted on, ‘he wants you, but only if you give in to the way he and his mother want your marriage to be! Jesus, I can’t believe how sick the pair of them are.’

‘I can. It’s been a while since I realised that all this time he was just waiting for something to go wrong so that he can get me to run back into his arms and say I’m sorry I was so silly. But ever since the pregnancy went on, he’s been growing steadily meaner, even though a lot of times he was really nice,’ I speculated.

Pam scoffed, ‘Yeah, mean bastards are only nice when they want something from you.’

‘Well, he wanted nothing from me. Why would he possibly be sweet to me and the next moment treat me as if I was invisible?’ I challenged her.

‘To pull the wool over your eyes about what he was really doing,’ she answered without even thinking on it. ‘Like cheating, for instance.’

She checked her watch. ‘Oh shit, I am due at a meeting in a few. I’ll come see you after work, alright?’

‘Thanks, Pam.’ I smiled as she kissed my forehead and rushed out cussing to herself.

That old familiar feeling of loneliness and neglect overwhelmed me again. My eyes burned from the crying spell I had on and off between Dr Howard’s rooms and now. Jordan’s blatant hostility toward me when I was at my most vulnerable was shocking, even for him. My heart was broken to smithereens now, irreparably, but I had to call him. I wasn’t going to send my emissary to fight for me.

‘Winston,’ Jordan said on the other side of the earpiece when I called him.

‘Hello,’ I said weakly, seeing if I could evoke any pity from him.

‘Hey,’ he said blandly. ‘Listen, I can’t really talk right now.’

‘But you’re not at work. I’m being kept in hospital, and I need some fresh clothes and toiletries,’ I said. ‘I don’t know how long they’re keeping me in.’

I tried to sound strong, but in truth, I was far from it. Jordan displayed no support and paused as if he was distracted.

‘Jordan?’

‘Yes, Katie,’ he snapped.

‘Can you bring me my things?’ I asked again. ‘They say we’re going to be fine.’

‘We?’ he asked.

‘Me and the babies.’ I smiled.

He was quiet, and I heard some scuffling in the background.

‘Where are you?’ I asked.

‘With Mum. I really have to go, Katie. I’ll see if I can get to the hospital soon,’ he said. Before I could ask when he had ended the call.

I felt so miserable. The only solace was that my babies were okay for now but other than that I had very little happiness to hold onto. In my mind, I heard Grandpa’s voice telling me that I had to be strong, that I had to learn to depend on no one but myself. Of course, this was true, yet the heart was the perpetual enemy of reason.

Things were changing everywhere in my life, and I had to come to terms with it. Even when Jordan never showed up with my clothes and toothbrush – or at all, for that matter – I was hardly surprised and even less hurt than I would have been previously. I had to accept that Jordan had made his choice and that Martha was just more important than the welfare of his wife and babies. As sad and unbelievable it was, I had to force myself to process the illogical choices of my husband and concentrate on my babies’ well-being.

I could not let Jordan and Martha leave me in the embers, stamping out the life in me to keep them nice and cold. No, I had to do what Dr Howard said. I had to rise from the ashes, rekindle that fire that warmed the heart and gives the spirit its light. No amount of cold-heartedness could withstand the blaze of life.

‘So deep in thought,’ I heard. A sweet, familiar voice flitted into my room.

‘Ethan!’ I exclaimed. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘I work here. Have you forgotten already?’ He chuckled. His body rocked as he laughed, and the flicker in his mischievous eyes was a sight to behold.

‘And here comes the firelighter now,’ I mumbled as I shook my head in utter delight.

‘What is that?’ he asked.

‘Nothing,’ I replied. ‘You just have perfect timing, that’s all.’