Pregnant 4

Thursday. It was finally Thursday and he was getting together with his buddies at Roscoe's. Every Thursday for years, well at least since they'd approached twenty-one, anywhere from four to eight of them would get together for a few drinks and dinner. Some he played high school football ball with, some college, and some they had just sort of sucked into their circle. A chance to relax, laugh, swap lies--and forget.

The bar was well lit. A family place. Not the kind of place to get totaled although he had done it a number of times right after...But they, most of them anyway, had wives, families, kids...but not him. He felt the knife twist again and shoved those thoughts aside, buried them, to concentrate on tonight.

Thursday. The one night each week he could maybe forget about the pain, the heartbreak and lose himself in meaningless conversation with friends. He needed it, really needed it.

The six of them sat crammed into a booth with an extra chair on the end. "No, stinking way! State has that new quarterback from that high school in Texas and if he's half as good as they say he is..."

He froze in mid sentence, "Well, fuck me!" He slammed his beer down on the table hard enough that the glass broke adding another dent to the dark wooden table top. His hand was cut, but he didn't feel it and didn't look at the blood leaking onto the table. The conversation in the bar stopped.

Staring towards the front of the the bar, eyes focused on the blonde that had just entered, escorted by some jockey ex-football looking guy. Their eyes met and sadness, regret, pain...and fear filled her face. "I can't fucking believe she would do this! Fuck!" His friends all looked up front and saw Kimberly. They groaned. Trouble ahead.

"Tyler, let it be. Let's just go. We'll leave Roscoe's and find some other place. Come on." Will grabbed his sleeve, but Tyler, ignoring it, stood and marched to the front and stood in front of her and searched her face.

"How could you do this, Kim? Six months..."

Her date pushed him. Hard. "Get the fuck away from her you piece of crap." He stepped backward, tripped on a table leg and went down. He heard Kimberly gasp as he climbed back up and walked back, never taking his eyes off Kimberly's.

"Strike one. Six months, Kimberly and I'm just starting to get my shit together. You show up HERE? Roscoe's? On Thursday night?"

"I told you to get the fuck away from her! After what you did to her. Cheated, lied, broke off the engagement." The punch hit him in the chest and he went back a step.

Never looking at the man and never losing eye contact, "Strike two. Better tell steroid brain to knock it off."

"James, don't. Let's just leave."

"That's what you're telling everyone? That's why no girl in town will even talk with me? Your family looks like they want to spit on me. I know they never liked me, but now!"

"Tyler, how..."

"How the hell am I feeling? Is that what you're going to ask, Kimberly? How the fuck do you think I feel? All I do is work or lie around feeling sorry for myself, staring at the ceiling; wondering, what the fuck I did wrong! That's how the hell I'm doing. Lying on my NEW couch because you took all MY fucking furniture out of MY fucking apartment!"

Shame filled her face as she looked at him and pain filled her heart. She knew what she had done to him was wrong. So wrong. One look at his face as she handed him the ring told her what a mistake she was making. But she had done it anyway. Pressure. So much pressure from her family and friends. She'd cracked, gave in and made the biggest mistake of her life. She knew in every fiber of her being that she would never find another Tyler.

"Thursday night! You knew I would be here with my buddies. I know you saw my truck. It's parked right out front. You know, the one with the big dent on the passenger side from when you ran it off the road? The one fucking safe place in the county, the one night each week I come here and you strut..."

The fist hit him in the cheek. His head whipped to the side with the blow. Tyler stood there and for the first time looked at James. He put his index finger into his mouth, but when he looked there was so much blood dripping from his cut hand that he couldn't tell whether his mouth was bleeding or not. "Fuck!"

Pleading, "Tyler, no! Please?"

"What did you say your name was?"

"None of your damn business."

"Well, 'None of your damn business.' Strike three." Hard fast left, right, left to the abdomen and as James bent forward a right uppercut hit him under his chin. He sat down hard, then lay down, staring at the ceiling. "You're out." Turning back to Kim who hadn't looked at James, but continued to look at Tyler's face, "You come in here, when you know I'll be here...hair, makeup, new black dress, new muscle head in tow...You replaced me with that! Why? You ripped my heart to pieces, Kim!

"I was just starting to get better. Starting to not think about you all day every day and you needed to come in here, when you knew I would be here and rip my fucking heart out again? Why? I just don't get it! Three years! We were together THREE FUCKING YEARS! And then a month before the wedding you walk in tell me you found someone new and leave. A guy you'd been cheating with for what, three months, six months? Isn't that what you said?

"I realize that to you, Kim, I'm just another guy. But to me you were my whole world. My whole fucking world! Everything! You were the one thing in life I thought I'd never lose. And now you've taken Roscoe's too.

"What? Was I too nice, too trusting, too supportive, loved you too much, had a truck instead of a Vette?

"Tyler, I..."

He glanced at the blood all over James, then at his hand. "Shit! Guess I'm gonna need stitches. Great seeing ya, Kim. I hope you fucking get some terminal illness and rot in hell. Or someone fucking rips your heart apart like you did mine."

He pulled out his wallet and gave Walter fifty dollars. "Sorry, Walter. If he," hooking a thumb towards James, "decides he wants to do anything about this, please remind him that he got three strikes and I WILL press charges. Hate to say it, but I probably won't be back."

He shook his head, left, and drove to the ER.

He didn't get home until two. Typical night in the ED. But it didn't matter, nothing but tears and self pity tonight. He considered packing and leaving town. A new start. Head out west somewhere. Use his business degree instead of helping out Mr. Benjamin.

That certainly would be the easiest way, but as he thought about it...NO! This was HIS town. He grew up here, went to school here. His mom lived here. His sisters lived here with their families.

NO! She was not going to run him out of town. She could pack HER butt up and leave if it bothered her that he was still here. Fuck her! But then he stared at the ceiling and cried until the alarm went off.

He got dressed, walked into the Mr. Benjamin's office. "Tyler! You look pretty rough this morning. Tough night?"

"Uh, yeah. Mr. Benjamin, I was cleaning a glass last night and sliced the heck out of my hand. Was in the ER most of the night. Not supposed to do any lifting or stuff for about two weeks. Sorry. I could maybe do some things around here, or, I guess if you want, you could just send me home so you don't have to pay me."

"You would do that?"

'Sure. I love this place. I started helping out when I was what? Ten, twelve? It's special. I want your business to be successful and I don't want to be a drag on your overhead, you know, without producing value for you."

"But you need the money, don't you? I mean you have a business degree and should be working somewhere else?"

"Well, yea, I have a business degree and actually I'm working on a master's focusing on small business operations."

"Good. So I know you're here just to help me out."

"No, I..."

"So I would like to have you work with me in the office. Kind of an executive or consultant or something. The business is not doing like it should. We're starting to get more complaints and concerns, we have too much inventory on the nursery side, not enough new jobs on the landscaping side." Whispering, "And my books are a friggin' mess. So what if you work in here, well, I mean next door, and go over things and then...well, how much time would you need to let me know what you think?"

"I don't know? Maybe a few days for a preliminary, a week for some sort of more in depth? I mean I'd have to see your books, interview some customers, and, well, there's all sorts of things to look at."

"Great! I would like to double your pay, which is still too low for an executive and make it a salary so you have flexibility for your hours and what not."

"Mr. Benjamin, I...Thank you. This is fantastic. I'll get right on it and I WILL NOT let you down." He shook his hand with his left. "So, I'll need access..."

Two years later he was sitting on the couch watching the State football game and reviewing the monthly business and customer satisfaction scores on their online feedback site when there was a knock on his condo door.

He opened it and paused, "Kim! Not interested." And closed the door. What had she done to herself? Her face was all puffy, her hair all stringy, no make up--at all. What the hell? Her eyes looked like she'd been crying for weeks and their sparkle, the look that always made her look so alive was gone. Drugs? He doubted that. Alcohol? Maybe. Bad break up? Something bad, he was sure of that, but he wanted no part of it. No part at all.

It was silent for a moment and then he heard her knock again. He sighed and opened it, "Look, Kim, I don't want to hear that you're sorry, that you made a mistake or whatever the hell you are planning to say. Please, just go away. It's been two and a half years, hell, almost three. Are you figuring out a new way to do me in?"

He closed the door, but then he heard her crying through the door. Muffled and barely audible, "But I am sorry. From the day I did it and saw the look on your face. And then when I saw you at Roscoe's... I was a coward. I couldn't face you. I couldn't ask for your forgiveness after all the pain I'd caused.

"And you're right. I knew you were going to be there on Thursday. I wanted to see you, but I was hoping you'd be okay? That you would have gotten over me, over what I did. Maybe even be with someone new? But when I saw the look on your face and I realized what I had done, what I was still doing...how cruel I'd been, and how much I missed you..."

He opened the door, in a pleading, pain filled voice, "What do you want, Kim? Why are you here? Why now?"

She mopped her tears and looked at his face, "I need your help."

He laughed, but an empty, cynical laugh. "You're shitting me? What about your mom, sisters, brother, boyfriends, girlfriends? You know, all the people in town that hate me for what I did to you? Because I'm such a good for nothing loser? Why would I help you?" But he looked closer at her. Her bravado, confidence, cockiness were gone--her fire was gone. She was flat.

That was it. That's what was wrong. The heat, warmth, energy, joy she usually radiated and infected everyone around her with--missing. She seemed, broken? Smaller. Diminished. Something was wrong; very wrong. Especially if he was her last resort. What the hell? Dammit all to hell. All he wanted to do was watch the game and finish the damn month end reports.

She sobbed, "Because I have nowhere else to turn. All those people you mentioned turned their backs on me and I...I didn't know who else to call, what else to do."

"What could you have done that's so bad that your asshole family won't help."

"I guess I messed up my pills or something. I'm pregnant."

"Well, that's not so bad. It happens..."

"Apparently not in my family. Not when the father is no where to be found."

"What about your sister? She was pregnant before she got married."

"She got married. They said I would never find anyone to love me or marry me if I had children."

"That's bullshit. Lots of people get together with kids. Why didn't you just dump it when you found out?"

Crying harder, "I thought about it, Tyler. I talked to them, the clinic, even had an appointment." Crying, "I even had an appointment to do it, but when I went to the clinic... I just couldn't do it! I couldn't do it! I loved them already, even when they were so young."

"Them?"

"Twins."

He laughed. "God, when you do it, Kim, you do it big time. So you were determined to keep them despite everything?" She nodded.

"Well, at least that's something. I, well, I'm not sure I could help if you had kept your appointment, but that's just me. Alright, come on in and let's talk. Talk about what kind of help you need." He took her arm and guided her inside.

"Here, have a seat on the couch." She went to the couch and took off her coat. "Whoa! You're like pregnant, pregnant. So, why is there a big problem. Father or not, you have a job, insurance, maternity leave, all that kind of stuff, right?"

Mopping her face with her tee shirt. "That's the problem, Tyler. I'm spotting."

"Meaning?"

"Oh, meaning things aren't going well and if I'm not careful I could lose the girls."

"Girls?"

She nodded. "Yes. Girls, they think. The doctor says I need to be on bedrest. I can't go to work, my employer won't let me work from home, I got laid off, really fired, and lost my insurance. I'm going to lose my apartment. And be homeless. I'll lose my car so I can't even sleep in that. I know. I should have had an emergency fund and all that...

"Sometimes I think I should just miscarry and be done, but I can't, Tyler. I love them too much and just the thought of something happening to them or being like those little frog looking kids in the incubators in the premie units at the hospitals that you see on TV? With all the tubes and wires, sometimes for months? God, just the thought of it fills me with dread." He nodded.

"My mom and family turned their backs on me because...well, first, because I got pregnant and second, because I wouldn't abort. And third...because my mom ran into your mom and heard the truth of what I had done. Or said I'd done. They may not have liked you, but they liked what I'd told you I'd done and how I handled things even less. They thought they had coached me into just telling you to get lost!"

"Maybe I like your mom after all."

She smiled, a little. God he missed that smile. But it was a dead, hopeless smile now. Shit! "Not sure I would go that far, Tyler. My friends don't want some pregnant person lying around their apartments. Especially one with no income and no prospects."

"So, Kim, what did you imagine I could do to help you?"

Sobbing again. "I don't know, Tyler. I can't lie in a hospital bed for a couple of months until they think the babies can be delivered safely. Not without insurance. I already checked and I'm not a candidate for the shelter. The home for unwed mothers is maxed out. By the time welfare comes through it'll be too late.

"I need a place to stay. I can sell my car, furniture, and everything else and give you that money...I'll, I'll do anything, Tyler. Anything at all if you can just help me for a few months. I promise, really promise to make it as easy as possible on you.

"That's all I need."

"All?"

She cried again. "I know! I know it's asking a lot. Like an enormous amount, but then you can make me leave..." she looked at his face. A flash of hope snuck onto her face for just a moment, but then was gone. "And then you could wash your hands of me again," that flash of hope again, "if you wanted?"

Sobbing once again, "But I just don't know what else to do."

He knew it was a mistake. He knew having her close by would open the wounds and start the bleeding again...But she needed help! Wouldn't he try to help anyone else in this situation? One of the women at work? One of his neighbors? Hell, almost anyone, even a stranger? And it was only going to be a few months. He could put up with anything for a few months, right? And he could afford it.

His mind raced, formulating options, possibilities, what if scenarios. Maybe they could deliver early. C-section or something. They did that, right? Fuck, he didn't know. No idea. She'd still need to be home for a while to care for the babies especially if she were early; they were early. Shit! So even longer. But six months max?

And it would only be a small bump in food, electricity and that stuff. Well unless he paid for her car, and then there was auto insurance and her phone, trips to the doctor...and what about diapers, beds for the babies, formula, and all the other crap that friggin' kids needed. Holy shit! More like a mountain of expense.

He calculated in his mind. A spread sheet, pros:cons, expenses...and Time. Time, his most limited asset. He had so little free time now, what with the business booming and new employees and...everything. Shit! What was he getting himself into? But he looked at her. This was real! Not one of his mom's heart ripping movies. She needed help!

"Tyler? Say something? Please?"

He was overwhelmed by the feeling of impending doom. Step by step up the stairs to the gallows. Only here, they rip your heart into tiny pieces and leave you in pain. No quick kill. "Yes! Okay. Yes. You can stay. We'll figure something out."

She got up quickly, but grabbed her belly. He rushed to her side and held her. "Are you alright? What can I do?"

She squeezed him and cried. "Thank you, Tyler. Thank you, thank you, thank you and I am so, so sorry for what I did to you. And to us. I was such a fool. But I have to lie down. The cramping and pain... one of the signs I've done too much."

"Do you want to stretch out on the couch? I can carry you back to the bed?"

"Would the bed be okay? For now? When this passes I'll go to the couch."

"Uh, sure, sure, whatever." He went back, slid the covers down and made sure everything looked basically okay; returned to the living room and gently picked her up. "Whoa, seems like you've put on a pound or two..."

She smiled. "Thanks. Just what I wanted to hear to make me feel better. Tyler, thank you. I...just thank you and I'm sorry."

"Here we are." He laid her down. "So what else can I get you, I mean what do you need?"

"I'm supposed to rest on my side. An hour on this side, an hour on the other and have a pillow between my legs. You don't happen to have an extra pillow..."

"Uh, no. No need. Just the two on the bed. No one else has ever been here."

Her eyes filled with tears, "Tyler, I..."

"Anyway, it's not a girl's bed with a hundred decorative pillows. Thankfully, she'd taken all those when she cleared out the apartment while he was at work. "But some towels, maybe?" He ran to the bathroom closet and grabbed a couple towels. The bills were starting to add up in his head already.

"I'm sorry, Tyler. Really."

He waved his hand. "It's fine. So, what if I stuff some towels or something in a pillow case until I go to your place? So why are you on bedrest?"

"Apparently, my placenta is in the wrong place. It's over my cervix, you know, on the inside of it? And she pushes down and when I stand or walk gravity pushes down and it starts pulling free and could either hemorrhage or make me go into premature labor or both or something."

"Oh, sure, the placenta, whatever that is."

"It's the thing that hooks to the uterus and brings the oxygen and nutrients and stuff to the babies so they can grow and develop."

"Oh, yeah, that. Should have paid more attention in health class I guess."

"I'm kinda on modified bedrest? I can putz around a little, but no more than twenty or thirty minutes at a time. I can lift like up to twenty pounds, but I get cramping down there so I don't do it." She started crying again, "But I had to go to the store and I tried to work, but then I couldn't. I..."