Another red X is crossed on the calendar and I smile. Seven months, three weeks and two days. Even though pregnancy this awful high and low, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervously excited for the final result.
I run a manicured hand over my swollen abdomen and chuckle. My friends have all told me a wear pregnancy unusually well and they're all jealous. Honestly I'm just glad I haven't ballooned up to whale size, personally even though I am rounder than I'm really comfortable with.
I cap my pen and look back up to the calendar, frowning as my eyes drift back to the few past days where I can pinpoint when Richard starting acting so strangely. Part of me is absolutely terrified that he may be having an affair because I'm currently fat and expecting. I suppose I'll have to turn a blind eye to it. If he is then at least I'll have a new baby to play with while he plays with his secretary.
I feel my forehead tighten and I know I'm working myself into a mood. With a calming breath, I decided to make some tea as I lumber about the grandiose kitchen.
I can't say I'm in love with Richard Cameron. Well, perhaps I am but it's never what I hear described in books or TV programs. We were just an appealing couple that was expected to get married.
I honestly don't think Ricky would cheat on me. He really does try his best-but then again, you never know, men and all. I think they're all easily corruptible. Then again, that's hypocritical of me to say. I had my doubts about marrying him until he flashed that loud diamond ring in my face. I was easily swayed with the promise of a comfortable and lazy life.
It's not the end or the world, Daddy bought this house for us. It's a nice little place-pretty and dressed in warm, comfortable colours. Ricky works part time in his bank so I don't see him much between his work and school. It's all a little insane but he seems to know nothing else and is happy so I'm that plastic, emotionless sort of 'happy' for him because he's happy. Does that make sense?
A door slams distantly in the house and I sigh, cautiously sitting down at the table, waiting for the water to boil. I can hear him approaching and in a few minutes his dark, fist-clenched expression is in view. "Hey Ricky…" I murmur and he pauses, looking at me I see his fist loosen.
"Delores," He breathes and he hugs me loosely as my eyes widen. Maybe he finally is shaking out of his black mood.
"What's been up with you?" I kiss his ear before he draws away to tend to the whistling kettle.
"What tea?" He asks, ignoring my previous question and I deflate with a sigh. I have no idea why I thought he'd tell me in the first place.
"Something herbal-something,:" I hold my 'm in thought as he looks at me expectantly. "Nice." I finish. "Something that you'll like too." I smile warmly as he stoically prepares that tea. "So, I've missed you over the past couple of days." I comment off hand, trying to draw him into conversation. He just hums and continues with his task at hand.
"School and work have been killer." His voice is rather hoarse, I'm just pleased he's responded.
"Is that all?" I pause and realize that may have come across rather hostile as he stiffens. "You seem tenser than usual 'just work' stress…normally you talk to me about work-" I'm interrupted by the phone ringing and Ricky holds up one finger, signaling he'll be a moment. Before he leaves the kitchen, he kisses me on the forehead and rushes to the phone in the living room.
The tea will take time to steep, I sigh and wring my hands-a nervous habit that I developed when I had the comforting friction of my wedding ring. Unfortunately, I'm bloated to the point that I can't wear it anymore. Ugh, pregnancy. My hands flutter for a moment until I remember that I've put it on a chain around my neck-it means a lot to Ricky and I aim to keep him as happy as I can while I'm…like this.
Only…now I'm worried because it's not th-oh, right I stand, swaying to regain my balance before I'm out to the entrance of the house. I took it off when I last came home because it had tangled in a scarf an was just frustrating me to no end. Maybe that's why Ricky's been rather stiff-who knows?
As I walk down the hallway with the geometrically patterned stone designs in the floor and red wood walls, My eyes pass his study. The door is slightly ajar and it's dark because he's drawn the curtains. I resist temptation to wander in. I've been prone to sneaking in there because for some reason it reminds me of my father. A little nostalgia is refreshing every now and then.
I like how I have the entry way. There's a smooth, natural wood coat rack off to one side with a few coats-Ricky's is on top and I finger the ash coloured cashmere gingerly. His father gave it to him last Christmas, he looked stunned and I still don't know why. It's just Cashmere.
Parallel to that is a nice little painted cabinet, a warm red that has knick-knacks smattered across the surface. There it is, my ring. It's on a fluid gold chain that matches the cradle of that outrageous diamond. I'm sure that my Father paid for that ring-regardless how he and Ricky protest against my teasing accusations. It looks like something my mother would have wear-and she knows it. It's funny, really.
Anyway, I have it back around my neck and it's settles comfortable as I breeze back to the kitchen. This time, I creep into Ricky's study first.
It's really the chair that does it. I feel like I'm five years old-a fat five years old- as I sink into the plush black leather. I can't help but laugh to myself. Really, what the hell was I thinking? Married at this age, a baby on the way and living in my own house? It's like my clothes are too big. We didn't even want a baby this soon to begin with…
I'm distracted by a loud, red card on his desk with gold writing. It's ridiculously pretty-when I open it I feel like I've figured out why Ricky's been acting so strange lately. I would be too if someone I knew died.
Hmm…the funeral is in a few weeks, I can't help but wonder why he hasn't said anything to me about it…Charlie Dalton…that name sounds so familiar-I just can't place it-"Delores? Tea is ready!"
"Coming!" I call back standing carefully on my feet. There's a small jab of pain to my abdomen and I sigh. Clumsy me, stupid desk. I feel so inelegant as I trod down the hallway-there's another strange pang in my abdomen and now I'm worried. I can't-couldn't-no. No, not yet.
"Are you okay?" He's standing at the end of the hallway with two plain mugs in his hands and a wary expression. I nodded and he indicated towards the tea, "I made raspberry because, uhm, I know you like it…" Richard hates raspberry tea. I'm pretty sure he sees how terrified I am because God knows I can't hide it. "What's-"
"The baby, the baby's early." I'm clutching my abdomen, scared and crying. I can't loose my baby! Before I can look to Richard, He's pushing me out the front door, hastily grabbing clothes.
"Get in the car." I'm just standing at the front door, feeling useless. Panic is clamoring in my throat as Richard nudges me out the door and I push back against him.
"No, no!" Going to the hospital will only confirm my fears.
"Delores! Get in the car!" He's getting angry, frustrated, frazzled-I don't know, I don't care.
"No! Richard! I can't, I can't," I'm crying now at the thought of loosing my baby. "Too young! Not ready-not yet! Richard please not my baby!" I shrieked and his hands are on my shoulders, shaking me in my hysterics.
"Not. My. Wife." His hands are on my face as he looks at me firmly. "We are going to the Hospital and I will make sure you will be safe," He kisses me, hard in what I assume is an attempt to make me shut up or calm down. "If I take care of you, you can take care of our baby. Now please, please Delores, get in the car."