Part 5 (1/2)

November, 1991 ”Baby, you have to breathe,” Royal said, brus.h.i.+ng the hair off my face. ”Deep breaths, remember. Just relax, you have to relax.”

The pain started that morning. Unrelenting, bone-breaking pains. I wasn't ready. I was terrified of giving birth. I thought I was prepared, but once the pain started, I didn't feel strong enough.

”I'm trying, dammit!” Just then, a wave of pain shot through me, and I hunched over with my arms around my belly. I was sure it wasn't supposed to feel like that. There had to be something was wrong. ”Where the h.e.l.l is my dad? We can't wait, Royal. Take me to the hospital now!”

He was on his feet and running down the stairs to get my mom before I finished the sentence. His face was full of fear and the unknown. I heard two sets of footsteps running up the stairs and seconds later saw the horrified look on my mom's face. I knew she could see something wasn't right.

”Royal, call 911. I don't want to try to get her downstairs alone. Joe is nearly an hour away. We can't wait. I thought we had more time.”

She stayed with me while Royal called 911. His voice shook, and his eyes were full of agony, but they never left mine. We both knew something was wrong, but neither of us could say it out loud. I could see it all over his face. He was terrified.

Minutes after he hung up, I heard the sirens coming down the street. My mom scampered around the room gathering my bags and things I'd need in the hospital, while Royal wrapped my robe around my shoulders.

The pain was so intense I was numb. Everything was a blur as we made our way toward the hospital. Sometime between my parent's house and the hospital, everything went black.

Two days later, I was still in the hospital recovering after giving birth to our son. Two days of mourning the baby I'd never again get to hold in my arms. Two days earlier, we'd set up a tiny nursery in the corner of our room at my parents' house.

I could picture every inch of the room as I lay there: the changing table against the wall stocked full of disposable diapers, rash creams, and wipes. The stack of soft cotton outfits folded and settled inside a drawer in my dresser, and the colorful blankets that sat on top. Every minute I spent shopping for exactly the right print, the perfect color, the cutest outfit. Every second I spent choosing the right things to eat, drink, vitamins to take. Hours and hours spent thinking about what to name him, and the day we decided on Theodore. Teddy, for short.

I couldn't fathom going back to that house just to see it suspended in time, waiting for a baby that would never come home.

Royal, with the help of my parents and his mother, planned and attended Teddy's small funeral. I couldn't get out of bed. Royal took the brunt, and in a lot of ways, I felt like he resented me for it. I escaped-hid in my bed in denial and cried. He had to be the strong one for both of us. I failed my son twice-before coming into the world and again after. But Royal stayed calm. He let me grieve, he moved us along, and with his unwavering love, he pulled me out of the worst moment of my life.

It was a rare occasion when I'd hear Royal talk about Teddy. It was always brief and would leave him despondent and unhappy for days. I tried to be sensitive to his pain. There were several gentle reminders throughout the house, but I also didn't shove the pain in his face. I knew that he loved his son more than anything; it was just too painful for him to remember.

The next morning, I woke up with a renewed outlook. Fighting would get us nowhere. We were going at each other constantly, and I knew it was mostly due to frustration on both sides. There had to be a way to chip away at the walls he'd built up, but b.i.t.c.hing at him wasn't the way to do it.

I was still dumbfounded by his weird behavior. The ups and downs left me dizzy. He'd always been a stubborn man, so I had to go into it with a strategy or he'd just continue fighting me tooth and nail.

Sunday's were a busy day for me, so I snuck out of bed early, showered quickly, and got ready for my day.

I always opened Sunday, but I never left without fixing breakfast for everyone before I left. Royal wasn't real big on cooking, and since he seldom had a hot breakfast during the week, the weekends were it.

Once I had the eggs and potatoes done, I started coffee and went back upstairs to finish getting ready to go.

When I got to our room, Royal was just waking up, stretching his arms over his head.

”Morning,” he mumbled.

I looked him over and sighed. Not once in the more than twenty years we'd been together had I ever lost the l.u.s.tful draw to him. He was a gorgeous man. Rugged, strong, and cla.s.sically handsome. His broad shoulders, thick, muscular arms, defined chest, and impeccable a.s.s were drawn straight from sin. Even though his age was beginning to show, it only made him more attractive.

There were more creases and lines on his face, his hair salt and pepper, and he didn't have the slim, six-pack abs he'd had when we met, but none of that took one thing away from him. Instead, he was more handsome, seemed more manly and distinguished to me, like he'd lived a life full of happiness and laughter to cause those lines.

Sadly, I wasn't fairing as well. My b.o.o.bs, the skin under my arms, and my b.u.t.t were all heading south. When I looked in the mirror, I didn't think I was ugly, but I was falling apart, and it wasn't easy to accept.

”What are you thinking about?” he asked in an amused tone.

”I think I want a b.o.o.b job,” I blurted out.

”What?” he laughed. ”Where the h.e.l.l did that come from? You've got a great rack.” He crossed his arms over his chest and gave me a s.e.xy, sideways smile.

I just shrugged.

”Seriously, Jenna. Who's been putting things in your head? Abbie?”

I shook my head and sat on the edge of the bed. ”No. I was just thinking out loud. Don't mind me. I'm just being weird.” I shook it off and gave him an awkward smile.

He didn't say anything in reply, so I decided to get out of there before something else happened. I had a full schedule of clients at the salon, and I didn't need to be upset all day.

”I'm heading out. I put breakfast in the oven and coffee should be done. I'll be home around six.” I pushed off the bed, leaned over to give him a quick kiss which he thankfully returned, and headed off to work.

My day was long but steady. At least work allowed me to clear my head a little. I'd worked there for over ten years and one of the best parts of my job was getting lost in my own little world. Most of my clients were little old ladies coming in for wash and sets and perms, but occasionally, I'd get to do something creative.

One of those times, unfortunately, was my least favorite client. She was always my last appointment on the fourth Sunday of the month. Like freaking clockwork.

Not only was she a b.i.t.c.h, but she happened to have been a good friend of Lana's back in the day.

Thankfully, she didn't say a word about Lana, and I knew if she had seen her already I would've had an earful. I was just glad she came and went without that wh.o.r.e's name coming up.

I'd long given up worrying about Lana, but was I happy she was back in town? h.e.l.l no. And there was no possible way in h.e.l.l I was befriending her. Screw that. She was ugly, inside and out, and that was never happening. Ever.

Chapter 5.

”Macy, can you get Benji's jacket on your way out? I have to grab the cake, and Laney and Skylar are already loading the truck with the rest of the food,” I yelled up the stairs to my daughter.

Her thundering footsteps came running down the stairs, and then she grabbed her brother's jacket and thrust it in my arms. ”I'm not going. This is so lame!” she whined.

I gave her a frustrated sigh and tucked the jacket under my arm. ”You're going. We talked about this. This is a special occasion, Macy. You don't get to use your get out of jail free cards on family celebrations.”

She rolled her eyes and huffed. ”But Daddy does? Where's he?”

I tensed and gave her a warning look. ”He's coming. He's picking up some tarps for the backyard from the work site. Calm down.”

”Whatever. Fine. How boring! Sitting around with a bunch of old people and little babies. Lucky me.”

Her sarcasm came through loud and clear. I laughed, but honestly, I think I was just delirious at that point. Getting out of the house with my sanity had become an impossible ch.o.r.e with those kids.

”It won't be all old people and little kids. You'll have your sisters, and Aubrey and Lily will be there. You love Lily.”

”I do love her, and she's super cute, but if she wants to play hair again today, I'm walking home. Remember the chunk of hair she ripped out the last time I babysat?”

”Hey, I offered you the job at the salon, and you wanted to babysit instead. Quit your b.i.t.c.hing and get ready to go.”