Disclaimer: I don't own anything!
Warning: Language
Author's Note: It's been forever, I know, and I'm sorry. I'm back in a writing mood, so look for more of this and a new fic, and also, Imagine will come soon, too! Thanks for reading, and please review! :)
The Secret of Katherine
July 17, 1998, 7:30 am
Donna
I don't know what I was thinking, why I was hoping that this time would be any different
than the hundreds of other times I've taken this same test. I look down at the plastic stick, and it hasn't changed. Still negative. Of course it is. I'm almost forty years old. So what if my period is two weeks late? It's just stress, or early onset menopause. Why in the hell did I even think that it could be pregnancy?
I drop the stick in the trash can and walk out of the bathroom. My eyes are dry. My stomach is relaxed. I don't get teary anymore, or wound up inside. I've done this so many times, it's almost like doing the laundry. Just another chore. And I don't need to mention this to Eric. If I do, he'll just bring up adoption.
It's not the same. It wouldn't really be our baby. And there's still a chance...One more month. And then we'll see. After all, there's nothing medically wrong. Eric's sperm count is fine. I make perfectly healthy eggs. There's no real reason we haven't been able to conceive.
There's still a chance.
I walk over to my dresser for some fresh clothes, and I notice the picture frames lined across the top of it, from edge to edge. Pictures of our family, our friends. None of the kids in the pictures are mine.
It wasn't supposed to be this way. When I married Eric, I wasn't planning on it turning out this way.
I pick up an older picture, one of me and Jackie. We're in the hospital, and she's holding a newborn Katie in between us. I put a finger over Jackie, and it's just me and Katie. I smile. That's how it should have been. The way it would have been...
Katie should have been my daughter.
"Donna? You coming? I made you breakfast."
Trying to ignore the knot in my stomach and the way my hands are shaking, I put the picture down then turn towards the open bedroom door. "Coming!" I walk out of the room and trudge down the stairs, trying as I do everyday to coax a real-looking smile from my dry and cracking lips.
I want to feel grateful for having a husband who makes me breakfast. I want to be happy that my husband tells me he loves me every night, kisses me for longer than a second when we say goodbye in the morning. I want to be thankful for my job and house and friends and the general decency of my life.
I smile when I reach the kitchen and sit down, prepared for my daily dose of pampering by my adoring husband.
I take a sip of the coffee Eric's put in front of me and look out the window. It's beautiful outside. Blue sky, no marring clouds, the gentle glow of the morning light. I think that maybe later on I'll send Katie an email. I'm sure Jackie's giving her hell, feeding her the fantasy she and Hyde have somehow invented about her conception.
She'll need someone to talk to.
And I've never lied to her. Never have, never will.
8:15 am
Hyde
Like all the other times I've slept on the couch (many, many times), when I woke up, Jackie had covered me with a blanket and was sitting on the floor in front of me, her arms wrapped around my leg, her head on my knee. Of course, as soon as I moved, she scurried off into the kitchen. That was twenty minutes ago. Now I'm sitting on the couch with Jake, watching cartoons, and she's in the kitchen. I can smell the eggs and bacon, and I have to smile. My favorite, and she always makes it after we've had a fight.
God, why can't she just let me stay mad at her?
Jake squirms against me and pats my thigh. "Daddy, guess what?"
"What?" I keep watching the cartoon. Road Runner. Classic, and Jake's favorite. Mine, too. Wile E. Coyote reminds me of Kelso. Great, now Jake's bouncing up and down. I'm feeling a little queasy.
I hate sleeping on the couch.
"Aunt Donna's gonna take me to Disney World!"
That makes me forget the Road Runner, and I look at my son. He's grinning, just like Jackie does whenever she sees, smells or touches money. Or me. Usually, anyway. The joy on Jake's face - god, normally it's the best thing ever. Even better than film. But now...damn it, it's making me want to puke. "Did she tell you that?"
He nods and pats my leg. "Yep. She said that me and Eric and her are gonna have so much fun I'll never wanna come home."
Before I can unleash a string of curse words most definitely unsuitable for my son's ears, he climbs into my lap. He's still grinning, and he bounces on me, holding my shoulders.
"Isn't that cool, Daddy?"
I clear my throat and do my best to keep my expression neutral. "Wouldn't you rather go with your mom and me? And Katie and Dylan?"
His smile falls and he looks down. "Aunt Donna says Mommy won't ever wanna take me." He looks back up at me, and I swear to God Donna is going to die, because she put this sadness in my son's eyes. "Does Mommy like me, Daddy?"
I've never hit a woman. Never even been tempted to, until now. What in the hell is wrong with Donna? What in the hell has she been telling my child? It takes all I have - every damn bit - to stay Zen. "Mommy loves you more than anything in the world., Jake." My voice sounds strained, but Jake doesn't seem to notice.
"Really?"
He gives me such a doubting look. Yeah. Donna isn't ever coming near my kids again. I clench my hands into fists. "I bet if you go give Mommy a big hug, she'll tell you so herself." He hesitates, and I pat his bottom, forcing myself to smile. "Go on, Jake."
He gets off me and trudges away. I stand up and follow him to the doorway between our living room and kitchen and watch as he shyly approaches his mom. She's at the stove, and looks down when he tugs on her robe.
"Hi, Mommy."
"Hi, baby. You hungry? Breakfast will be done soon. And you know what I made? Chocolate chip pancakes, your favorite. Because I love you so much."
Instead of answering, Jake throws his arms around her legs and presses his head to her middle. Jackie looks a little startled, but she immediately smiles and hugs him back.
I swallow hard. My wife is many things, a lot of them damn annoying. And I'm pretty pissed at her right at the moment.
But she's a good mother, and she loves her kids more than Donna could ever imagine.
And I freaking love her.
What the hell is Donna trying to do? Take Jackie's kids? God, I know she wants kids badly, but...
Fuck. She's been my friend for such a long time.
"Does Mommy like me, Daddy?"
My eyes close. Yeah. This shit is going to end as soon as possible. Even if it means I have to end. If it means friendships have to end, so be it.
9:00 am
Jackie
Katie didn't come down for breakfast, and Steven didn't let me go get her. Just as well, I suppose. She hates me. And after last night, I'm pretty sure Steven does, too. I don't know why I spoke to him the way I did. I really don't. I just...everyone says that it wasn't anything, that we were just drunk...
"Jackie."
I look up, and Steven is staring at me. The boys are gone. "Where are the boys?"
He raises an eyebrow. "I sent them to the park for awhile so we can talk to Katie." He stands up and picks up the boys plates and his own. Pointedly, I think, he leaves mine where it is and heads to the sink. "She needs to know the truth. And apparently, you need a trip down memory lane, too."
I nod, my heart abruptly finding a new and uneven rhythm. He turns his back on me, and all I want to do is go to him and say I'm sorry and cry until he forgives me. But my eyes are dry, and the words won't come, and my body won't move. I just sit there until he comes back to the table and sits. He's tapping his fingers, not looking at me. I manage to get his name out. "Steven..."
"Damn it, don't you remember, Jackie?"
He sounds so angry and upset, and now the tears are in my eyes.
"I mean, God, it didn't happen just because we were drunk. You know that." He stands up again and starts pacing. Running his hands through his hair. His shoulders jerking up and down as if he can't breathe.
I know how he feels. So many times I've felt that way, like when my baby called me a slut.
I've really hurt my Steven. Not for the first time, and god, I hate that!
I wipe my eyes and stand. I go to him and press my hands to his chest, looking up at his stony face, into his chilly eyes that meet mine immediately. I try to smile. "I know, Steven. I'm sorry, so sorry, I was just..." It's too much, my head is spinning, my knees are weakening, and suddenly Steven grabs me and pulls me to him, just as the sobs in my chest break free. "Steven, I know. I know."
"You know what? That nothing you're going to say to me is going to change the fact that you almost aborted me?"
I don't move, except to start a bit, and Steven tightens his arms around me until all I can feel is his body. I can't even feel my own.
Oh god...
My daughter isn't going to understand, and she's going to hate me for the rest of her life.
God...
Hyde
I don't think I've ever seen Katie look as sullen as she does now, sitting at the table and alternately staring at it and glaring at Jackie. And Jackie...well, I have see her look as devastated as she does now. Shit, I hate thinking about it. This whole thing is crap.
I haven't had a circle in eighteen and a half years, and damn it, I want one.
Katie rolls her eyes and mutters. "This is pointless. I already know what you're going to tell me."
Jackie sobs a little, and with my eyes still on Katie, I reach over and take her hand. Guess it's all I can do right now, until I talk some sense into my incredibly stubborn daughter. "Oh yeah? Fine. Tell me what I'm going to tell you."
She smirks at me, and damn it, it looks familiar. I shift a little in my chair. God, when did these chairs get so damned hard?
"That one night you and Mom just couldn't keep your hands off each other one night, and when you found out she was pregnant, you immediately proposed, then you got married and lived happily ever after." She rolls her eyes. "Isn't that right, Mom?"
I look at Jackie, and I want to be irritated. My stomach grates and turns like it does when I'm getting ready to cuss her out for something, but god. She can't look up at either Katie or I, and her chin is trembling. I shake my head. Later. "Well, that's not what we're going to tell you, okay? It's a hell of a lot more complicated than that."
"It was kind of like that." Jackie's voice is tiny. "I mean, we really couldn't keep our
hands off each other that night, Steven." She looks at me, her eyes all teary - which, by the way, I hate for about a million reasons - and speaks a bit louder. "And the happily ever after part. Right?"
She's thirty-eight years old, but sometimes when I look at her, I see the little girl who bought pot to try to impress me. The one I risked just about everything for in order to keep her out of jail. I guess I wanted to protect her. I guess it's always been that way. I sigh and squeeze her hand. "'Course. Well, mostly, anyway." I wink, and that coaxes a tiny smile from her.
Of course, Katie's not appreciating the moment. I can see her making a face out of the corner of my eye. I know what's coming. A nice, sarcastic, comment or question.
"Well, before you win me over with your beautiful love story, can I at least have breakfast? Or maybe I should wait. I'm sure this is going to make me want to puke."
There it is. She's so my kid sometimes. When she was little, I thought it would be cool. Now? Not so much. And I'm beginning to lose my temper. I give slap my free hand on the table and give her my coldest look. "Katherine, you sure as hell better stop with the mouth. Now." To my satisfaction, she quiets and looks down. I take a deep breath. "Get yourself some breakfast."
"There's some eggs on the stove if you want them," Jackie says, still sounding so very small.
As our daughter gets up and heads to the stove, I look at Jackie. She's looking at me, and the water in her eyes is falling out. Big, fat Jackie tears that I've never been able to handle.
Damn it, I hate it when she cries.
I scoot my chair closer to her and put an arm around her. Yeah, I'm pissed at her still, but...She's my wife, damn it.
"It'll be okay, doll." I speak softly, so certain ears can't hear.
Lord knows it would probably make our behaving- like- a- three- year- old daughter puke.