A/N: And it all comes to this point. The epilogue of Guidance. Now I'm kinda sad because it's over. But yet, I'll have another story to officially put to rest and put this fun, amazing story I've nursed for the past five or six months. The idea of Laura's character was a triple blend of myself, my high school band teacher, and my high school guidance counselor. Anyway, enjoy this for the last time for a while. I hope you'll wait patiently for the sequel, Leave It On The Dance Floor.
Disclaimer: From the beginning, I've said I don't own it. Just Laura, and other characters.
Guidance
Epilogue
Eleven hours.
Eleven hours of contractions, and trying not to yell at the nurses who all look like scum in my eyes.
Eleven hours of no epidural – I don't want a needle in my spine. Do you hear me, Karen? You are not getting your anesthesiologists to stick a fucking long needle in my back! NO! All family ties aside, I will sue if you do it! DON'T DO IT!
Would you like an overview of how we ended up at this point? Would you like to know how I ended being in the worst pain of my life, trying to bring a baby into the world, only being six centi-fucking-meters dilated?
Here's the short version because if you make me go through the long version, I may chuck a bedpan at some of you in the front, and I forget whether it's there's tinkle in there or not. Would you like to find out?
No?
Good.
Now, here's the short version.
My water broke around four in the morning. I was cramping, and it freaked me out. The bed looked like I peed myself, but the things was…I didn't need to pee. Cramping and weird substance? Yep, my water broke. Before I knew anything, we were quickly, but gently bolting out of the house, but we called Karen before we left, and because she lives closer to the hospital, she met us there.
Through my contractions, I'm yelling at the nurses because their uniforms are green.
"Yeah, you're clothes are green! I hate green!"
"Uh, Mrs. Whitman, your eyes are green…"
"So? Don't tell me what I know! You're still terrible!" I screamed back. "How do you live with yourself? How do you sleep at night, knowing global warming is – OW! MOTHERFUCKING OW!"
And then another contraction hit. And it's been an ugly cycle ever since.
Now, sneaking a glance at the clock, it's five after three in the afternoon. I think.
Karen pretty much stuck her gloved hand up my wazoo, and was like all smiley when she said, "Yeah, Laura. You're making real progress. You're now six centimeters dilated…more than halfway. Just four more centimeters and you'll be ready to push."
But you don't understand. I want to push, well, NOW!
That was two hours, many painful contractions (Breathe like you're drinking through a straw? Who the hell came up with that?) ago, so I obviously didn't get my way.
There was this strap across my belly, which was hooked up to a fetal heart monitor. I could Erin's heartbeat, and the only good thing is that she was strong, and just as ready to end this as I was. She's not even officially born and we're already on the same brainwave. If that's not maternal bonding, then I don't know what it is. I'm left wondering why men aren't capable of having babies. I'd love to hand the reigns over to Gary while I took a break.
Everyone's here. The entire Matthews clan (plus Leah and Stan), and I mean, ENTIRE. We took one side of the waiting room while Gary's family took up the other waiting room next to that one. There were too many people and they couldn't fit in one waiting room. The only people that aren't here are Chase, Zoey, and Robyn. They just flew in from Maui, and they had to make a quick detour to the house and they were coming right back in the car hidden for Chase in their garage.
Gary's in his PJs, and I think he was more panicked than I was. His eyes are tired, and he has the beginnings of stubble on his face. I would've been laughing manically if I didn't have a nearly nine pound baby plowing through my insides, quite painfully.
Gary: Okay, my wife is going to have a baby!
Nurse: Okay, uhm, just fill this out, and tell me quickly who is her physician is, and when her due date is supposed to be.
Me: (glares at nurse through contraction while breathing because it fucking hurts!)
Gary (chucks clipboard across the room, while holding me): NO! I'm trying to be nice here! Either you get my wife settled in, or we're going have my daughter on the FUCKING floor! Understand?! I'm sleep-deprived, and I'm hungry!
Nurse: Sir, if you just –
Gary: No! Get Dr. Matthews. NOW!
I'm crying not because the contractions are literally a pain. I think I was full out sobbing because I couldn't pretend that it didn't hurt. I could pretend a paper cut didn't hurt. I could pretend a twisted ankle didn't matter and I was going to dance on it anyway. But I couldn't pretend this time. I really couldn't pretend. I haven't cried this bad since I fell out of a tree and broke my arm in two separate places. That happened when I was ten.
I still hear Erin's heartbeat. I still hear it, and I'm grateful for that. She's strong and healthy.
That's all I want. It really has been a pregnancy full of ups and downs, but at least she's been healthy and developing all this time. It's bittersweet because my mom died before I became pregnant.
Right now, Gary and Karen are convincing – or trying to – me to get the epidural.
Oh, thank God. The contractions are over for now, but they'll spring up with a vengeance and drive me crazy.
And then I'll want to rip my hair out from frustration.
"Laura, I'm not telling you as your doctor, I'm telling you as family because I love you," Karen told me, her tone serious. I held Gary's hand in case another contraction hit. She checked me again, and I'm now eight centimeters dilated. Three hours ago she said I was six, and now I'm eight. I kind of wanted to get to the full ten by myself. I'm breathing steadily just as the Lamaze lady told me to do.
Bless her heart.
"Yeah, I know…"
"You've done this for eleven, almost twelve hours. Take the epidural. It'll help you go through and dilate two more centimeters, and then you'll be able to push."
I'm so tired. I'm just so…tired.
"I'm tired. I wanted…to do it…myself," I sobbed. That's what I'm hearing myself sound like. Everything is just a blur. I want to be a mom. I don't want to be pregnant anymore. "It just hurts."
"I know, baby. I know."
I turned to Gary, "No, you…don't. You don't have doctors sticking their hands up YOUR hooter? Do you?"
"Gary, don't worry about Laura's mood," she assured my husband. She laughed. What the hell? This is NO laughing matter! "When I was giving birth, I went from crying to questioning Steve's sexuality to threatening to neuter him because it was a weapon. Laura, you were young but remember that?"
Yes, because I really want to go back when I was eleven. Sure, let's just put MY excruciating labour on hold to flashback.
"No."
NO. Okay. I don't remember anything. I don't want to remember anything.
Where the hell is that bedpan when you need it?
…
…
Oh yeah. I think one of the nurses hid it because I would have given it to them, Old Faithful Style.
I could have made the bedpan airborne, y'know.
"I'm not in the mood for remembering right now!" I shouted, as another contraction passed. I tried to even out my breathing. I was angry for some reason, and couldn't pinpoint it to just one. I was pissed off. "Okay, what if you drug me up with that needle and it hits my spine? What happens if I wake up one day, and I become paraplegic?"
Or even worse, paralyzed from the NECK up?
I think if I can't dance ever again, I might very well hang myself. Selfish, I know, making Gary a widower and a single father, but I think I'd be so deep in depression that I'd do it.
"It's really rare, Laura. One in hundred thousand chance, which is really low…"
Low, as in it'll never happen, or low as in she's just saying that to prevent an inevitable murder?
"Baby," Gary said, softly, kissing me. "You'll be up dancing before you know it. We're hours from being parents. It's crazy. I hate seeing you in pain."
"I know," I replied, but it came out as sigh because I was trying to manage this contraction. "I know."
I had to close my eyes for a bit, even though I knew I wasn't going to sleep, and I'm not – I REPEAT – I will not munch on ice chips and pretend they're M&M's or something. I have no motive to imagine right now. My wild, crazy imagination has to be on hiatus.
"Laura?"
I turned my eyes on her, Gary stroking my hair while he let me hold his hand. I was holding it for the longest time and I think I cut off the circulation but I don't think he cared. Either he didn't care, or just didn't feel it at the time.
My eyes flickered in between them, and I feel like a horribly made sandwich. Both of them staring at me like that. You know, the look. The one that looks like I've committed some sin against nature. Well, I'm eight centimeters dilated, aren't I? That should be enough.
Oh, for fuck's sake –
"Okay, okay!" I held up my free hand. "I'll get the epidural. If everything goes wrong though, I'll hurt you terribly."
"Agreed."
I narrowed my eyes, "I'm serious. I'll maim you."
"Okay, Laura. Just let me get ready. I'll personally administer it."
Another goddamn contraction hit.
--
I have this crippling fear of needles.
You don't understand.
After I got my second set of ear piercings, Leah dragged me off to another piercing place to get our belly buttons pierced. I had to lie on the table thing, the dude washed the area with the coldest antiseptic I'd ever felt (made me wonder if they kept that stuff in the freezer and then thawed it the day before). I knew my parents would kill me.
Long story short: Before the dude could clamp that tiny section near my belly button, so he could pierce it, I ran. I ran at a speed that would probably put Donovan Bailey's time to shame.
Okay, I'm exaggerating. But I did run.
Now, I can't. I can't run away from the fact there will be a long needle shoved into my back to ease the contractions. I'm eight centimeters dilated, and that's great, but the fact that I'm in a sitting position, arching my back isn't.
I don't think you understand how badly I'm shaking right now.
"Laura, you're shaking like a leaf," my husband said, when I gripped onto his shoulders, closing my eyes and breathing deeply. I'm on the brink on a panic attack.
"I know. I'm okay."
No. I'm not.
"Are you sure?"
No. I'm not. My needle phobia has come back after being dormant for so many years.
Let me silently scream it out of my system for a few seconds.
AHHHHH!
FOOT LONG NEEDLE GOING INTO MY BACK!
AHHHHH!
FUCKFUCKFUCK!
I'm hoping in the name of Cyd Charisse (she was like a female version of Jesus for all dancers) that Karen reconsiders.
Come on, Karen. Reconsider. Have a freaking heart! You're a wife and a mother, a freaking doctor for Christ's sake.
Reconsider and don't, I REPEAT, don't stick that needle into my back. Just let me suffer a little longer. I mean, I don't care about sleep. Sleep is for the weak of heart. I could just push now!
Let me push now!
"Okay, I'm going to need you relax for me, okay Laura?"
Bitch.
I'm saying that because I love you, Karen. Okay?
There's a cold feeling on my bare back, and then I take in a sharp intake of breath, gripping Gary's hand tighter than ever. I don't care if I'm cutting off the circulation, okay? Fine, we'll roast your hands a little to get the blood flowing when there isn't a nearly nine pound child taking up the space between my pelvis and vage-jayjay!
"I'm not going to give you a whole lot. It's analgesic so you'll still feel your legs. Just enough for it to wear off, so that you can push in time with your contractions, so this stuff will wear off. Be warned."
MOTHERFU –
What the hell? Then what's the point?! I love Erin, but she's on the brink of breaking my area. I'm already eighty percent dilated anyway!
"Okay."
Oh, trust me. I'm usually very talkative, but I'm sticking to one worded answers.
How very sadistically kind of you. Yes, oxymoron alert.
And then I felt the needle go into my back, while biting my tongue so I wouldn't scream.
The only upside is I couldn't feel the contractions anymore when it actually kicked in. I let out a breath of relief when Karen and Gary helped me lie down. It's like this really happy effect kicked n when I snuggled into bed. The blanket was scratchy, but I didn't care. I snuggled deeper into my bed with the need to just sleep. I glanced at the clock and it was now about quarter after four.
"When are we going to have a baby?" Gary questioned, stroking my hand. My hair was practically at over the place and possibly looked at a bird's nest.
I'm not talking about the expression of abysmally messed up hair or "hair that's not Logan's".
Speaking of whom, his parents were really nice…for divorced parents. They're like best friends with kids between them – even though they're married to different people. It's freaky how Ethan and Logan look EXACTLY alike. Sure, they're identical twin brothers, but…wow. They have very, VERY minor differences but…yeah, they're clones.
In the good freaky kinda way.
Not in the psychotic, world domination way.
I'm talking about an actual bird's nest the birds might to be attracted to. The state of my hair, I mean. I think I should cut it shorter.
I heard Erin's heartbeat. I mean, it was always there, but I heard it for real, and it made me happy, and antsy.
"Yeah, because I don't want to be pregnant anymore. Thirty six weeks is enough."
Karen smiled, "Honestly, I'd say by six, I'll be delivering my own niece. I still can't believe that. Well, I see an unmistakably mass of bushy hair overhead. I only know one person with that because, well, I gave birth to him. Sixteen hours, and I'm on speed dial number three! Three, Laura!"
Yeah, we had this conversation before while on brunch. It was one of the few days where Gary left to go to work in sweats and a hooded sweatshirt. Yes, he even had the cute, untamed bedhead.
Karen: Three. Are you kidding me? I'm on speed dial three!
Me: And?
Karen: Laura. I gave him life. There would be no Chase Matthews if it weren't for me!
Steve: Honey, calm down. And I helped, remember that.
Ew. I could have gone my ENTIRE life without knowing that. I'm shuddering on the inside.
Me: Ew.
Steve: Sorry, baby sis (smirks cheekily) but yeah, you're definitely old enough. You're not eleven anymore.
And for this portion of my life, I wish I was innocent and eleven. Okay, it's a bit of a stretch with the innocence but still, I want to be eleven goddamnit.
I told you before our sibling rivalry is the good, family hate kind.
Me (makes a face, and shoots a raisin out of a straw): Oh, whatever (raisin hits Steve in the neck).
Steve: Did you just shoot a raisin at my neck?
Me: Yeah, what if I did?
Karen: He almost broke my vagina…even though medically that can't happen…but come on, three? I'm going to binge on more salad with ranch dressing.
Well, she's not miffed about it anymore, because she's been upgraded to speed dial two.
"You should get some rest. So, in about an hour, I'll be back, and we'll have a baby," Karen smiled, brightly, playing with the stethoscope around her neck, and then she left. Mostly to the waiting area. Turning to my husband, I smiled and yawned. I'm not even kidding. The epidural is like sex without the potential pregnancy thing, but seriously, it's like sex.
"You're probably tired of staying here with me, so go get something to eat."
"No. One, I'm never tired of being with you, and two, I'm not hungry."
"Again, I have to tell you the coffee doesn't count," I joked, and then turned serious. "Seriously, go into the cafeteria and eat something," I smiled softly, feeling my eyelids get heavier. "I can promise you right now that Erin won't be making her grand debut anytime soon. Please?"
"Well, my mom is getting antsy, so I'd better get to her, and then find something to eat. I promise."
"Thank you," I yawned, again. Gary kissed my cheek, and I can't tell you how long he sat there and stroked my hair – I still feel like it's a bird's nest, even though Gary tells me it isn't. I'll but it – until I feel asleep, but the fact of the matter is, I did.
Hell. Yes.
I fell asleep to the sound of Erin's heartbeat.
--
He was tired.
He was excited, the anticipation almost killing him.
Gary Whitman was the epitome of the expression, "walking on eggshells". There were knots in his stomach when he walked away from the room where his wife peacefully slept for the first time since her water broke and the whole labour process began. Waking at around three thirty in the morning for work, he had only gotten to brush his teeth when he found Laura hunched over on all fours on the foot of their bed.
All it took was for Laura to complain about slight cramping and despite his minty-fresh breath, and pearly white teeth, he guided his wife down the stairs and drove like a maniac (when he was usually composed) down the road to the hospital. Now, twelve hours later with stubble on his face, Gary rubbed his tired blue eyes and trudged into the waiting room where his side of the family sat.
Fuzzy slippers, morning robe with pajamas were included.
There were his parents. Jerry tried to calm Susan down, quietly. His aunt Rose made an appearance and no doubt that she was intoxicated but he had to be thankful she was sober enough to understand what was going on, and then there was his twenty-five year old cousin, Dean. Dean was the polar opposite of mild-mannered Gary. He was brash and outspoken, but he had no tactfulness whatsoever. An avid smoker and drinker (though not as chronic as his mother), Dean smirked at his older cousin, his blue-grey eyes sparkling with the mischief Gary knew all too well.
Paul and Jamie were nowhere to be found and neither was Julie.
Before Gary could question the whereabouts of his sister, brother-in-law and nephew, Gary found himself pinching the bridge of his nose to suppress any urge to strangle Dean.
Luckily, Jerry caught on and fixed his nephew with a stare full of warning.
"Son, you'd better think about what you say before you open your mouth, and say it."
"Whoa, whoa, easy Uncle Jerry," Dean put his hands up in easy-going surrender. He directed a gaze towards Gary. "Hey cuz, so I was wondering…did the hot wife pop the little one out yet?"
"Dean!" Susan shrieked at her nephew. Rosie smacked her son upside the head.
"I may be skipping out on my Alcoholics Unanimous meetings –"
"Uh, Rose, it's called Alcoholics Anonymous," her sister corrected. Rose merely waved an dismissive hand.
"Same diff, Sue. But yeah…" she trailed off before remembering what the point of her mini tirade was. "Dean, you're an idiot. I admit that I'm an alcoholic, but I'm your mom. Even I know you're an idiot. I say that because I love you…and I feel myself sobering up. You get that that whole spouting stupid shit from your father, not me." Rose's face darkened, and she added with a mutter. "Bastard can't even pay me alimony properly…"
"Ow! I can't be curious about the birth of my first cousin?"
"No, you're not allowed," Jerry deadpanned, flatly. "In fact, you're banned."
"I'm feeling the love. Really, I am," the young man replied, with a roll of his eyes. He crossed his arms, sinking deeper into the waiting room chair. He was occupied with a stack of magazines before he realized there were no Playboy ones. "Oh, fuck. No Playboy."
Gary rubbed his temples, wondering if he was actually adopted for he really couldn't be in the same gene pool as someone who was concerned about what to masturbate to once night fell, "Dude, I'm way too tired to punch you in the mouth so be glad."
"Gary."
"Sorry, Mom. I'm just tired."
"I'm brimming over with joy," Dean returned, sarcastically. "My lips thank you for making them stay intact."
"Dean…"
"Fine, Aunt Sue, next time, I'll bring a muzzle."
"If it helps, sweetie," Susan looked at her nephew endearingly as she knew it was Dean's way of telling her he wouldn't speak unless necessary anymore. Dean would listen to Susan if not anyone else. Standing to enclose her son in a hug, she took his face examining it and knew that her son was nearly burnt out, staying awake for more than twelve hours straight. She brushed the hair from his eyes the way a mother would. "Oh, my poor, tired baby. So, how's Laura?"
"She's asleep finally, and the epidural is helping her sleep. The circulation in my hand is returning evenly and Karen says in two hours, we'll have Erin here. I'll be a dad in a couple of hours," he explained, his chest swelling with excitement at the thought of holding his newborn daughter in his arms. Nine months was way too long, but worth it. "So, where'd Paul, Jamie and Jules go?"
"Well, Jamie wanted his colouring book, and was restless so Paul took him home for a bit to get it. They'll be back anytime now. Your sister's in the cafeteria downstairs. I think she seemed a little down."
Down? What was wrong?
Before the thought could take shape and process, his stomach let out a growl, "I'm kinda going to down there anyway so I'll catch up with Julie."
"Okay," Jerry replied, from his seat, idly flipping through the pages of a car magazine. He chuckled absentmindedly. "Ha. Some idiot did the crossword puzzle wrong."
Dean's peripheral vision caught the sight of a young redheaded nurse with quite delicate features on her break, and smiled deviously. He stood up, "Well, I'm going to go for a smoke but I left my good lighter at home."
"No, you didn't. You've had like four cigarettes already," his cousin replied, his face going into of confusion. Dean only winked.
"The redhead over there doesn't know that. Time to lay on the Dean McGregor charm."
With that departing word, Dean sauntered off.
Rose sighed, "And he wonders why I drink, right?"
"Okay, I'm leaving too. Again, I'm too tired to decipher Dean's thoughts and if I try, I'll end up being scarred for life. Food sounds good right now."
Gary also left, made certain by the soft rhythmic pitter-patter of fuzzy slippers connecting with the hospital white floors.
He really couldn't focus on eating when his heart beat so loudly and landed in his throat.
But he promised Laura, and he loved her more than anything else, so he would try.
--
Karen Matthews was downright tired, even though it was a happy occasion.
Walking into her office, she just wanted to sleep even though it wasn't possible. She had taken it upon herself to actually hide the bedpans for two reasons: one, Laura clearly didn't need them as her mood was all over the place and two, she didn't really want Laura to transform a simple bedpan into something of mass destruction. There were only so many patients Karen could treat at once and she needed the nurses around, so it was best that Laura didn't have anything within reach that was launchable.
She plopped in her office chair, grateful for the hour or two that she had to prepare for the delivery of her own niece. When she was granted her PhD, she swore to look after all human life and do everything possible but this was personal. There was a certain apprehensiveness that gripped the forty year old greatly. Maybe it was nerves, and maybe it was something else but Karen rubbed her face letting a soft sigh escape her lips.
"Okay, we're here. What's up?"
Her eyes met her father-in-law, husband and her brothers-in-law before speaking.
"Karen, is Laura and the baby okay? If there's something going on, then you should tell us. This isn't about doctor-patient confidentiality anymore and – "
"No, no. John, it's nothing like that. The baby and Laura are doing just fine. I promise you that."
"Okay, then what's up?" Ronald Matthews questioned, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. He was the third of four and shared a three and a half year difference with Laura, being born November 15, 1976.
"Well, the problem isn't that major but I don't want to take any chances. Erin could be about nine pounds and I gave Laura epidural so she'd get some sleep for a couple of hours. I just want to take this as a safety precaution…"
"Okay, so there is something wrong with Laura and the baby."
"No. I've already established this, Phil. I just mean that if the contractions don't come back so she can push in time with them, then I suggest we put her out of her misery and do a quick C Section. Let's face it: she's been in labour for over twelve hours and it's no fun."
"Gary won't like that," Steven replied, after his wife. He rubbed her shoulders in a comforting manner.
"Forget Gary. Laura will totally freak on you. You'd have to tell her and then you'd have to stick more anesthesia in her back on another spot, and then cut her open like a fish fillet. This is why I'm a contractor," Phil said, causing him to receive a glare from everyone around him. He especially flinched, feeling the doctor's eyes burning through him. "Oh, right. You're a doctor and find it fulfilling. My bad."
"How the hell does Cheryl put up with you?"
Ron laughed, touching a fist to his brother's bicep, "Very painfully."
"As much as I love you boys and your bonding, this isn't the time," John cut in, and looked at his daughter-in-law with the utmost serious. "Okay, worst case scenario is?"
"That the labour totally hits the fan and I have to start up a C Section which is just another hour of labour for her," Karen explained, simply and then a small smile graced her features. "But there is a very low chance it will have to come to that. I just wanted to tell you guys in here because I don't want anyone to get all worked up. It won't come to that. She's been asleep for the past forty five minutes, and the baby's heartbeat is strong."
Everyone seemed to breathe a sigh of relief until Phil spoke, "So, any up for me summarizing the demise of Superman? I brought the whole collection up until the legendary battle with Doomsday."
"Luckily, there's nothing stronger than a father's love.…"
Ron blinked in complete wonder, "Phil, you need a hobby. And it's not of the stamps and collectors variety."
"Nice, Phil," Karen replied, letting a hand cover half her face. "I knew we shouldn't have let Chase read those comics too much."
"Comics are way more interesting than television. Don't knock it until you've tried it."
"Son," John clapped his son's shoulder twice, giving him an assuring gaze with that signature gruffness in his voice. "Now, Steve and Ron will rip on you pretty much forever, and I love you, but I'll knock on whatever I want to knock on."
John led his son out of the room, Phil faintly debating on the importance of comics and the imagination. Ron followed suit, and soon Steve was left, but not before giving his wife a kiss. She giggled like a little school girl, memories of their first teenage meetings coming back to her. Closing the door, Steven smiled mischievously, making his wife stand by grabbing her waist.
Steven kissed her again, this time, the kiss making her dizzy with giddiness. She cradled his face gently, before a smile broke out and she pulled away with a giggle.
"We're going to get in trouble."
"That's why you married me, isn't it?"
"Yeah," Karen answered, and then a thoughtful look came on her face, and she slightly bit her bottom lip. "And the fact that I was pregnant with Chase and my mom didn't want him born out of wedlock. But aside from that, I love you."
"I love you too, and I kinda want to show you how much."
"Now?" Karen let out a laugh escape her. She glanced around her office. "Right here?"
"We're at a crunch for time, but hey, if you're into that sort of thing – "
The doctor shoved him playfully, "I knew under that hard-ass lawyer shell, you were a freak."
"Please, I'm like in ninja mode. You never know when I'll show up, or what I would do next."
"Ah," Karen gave an amused smile, arms around her husband's middle, since she was slightly shorter than he was, even though they were average height. "Same person who organized all of the family albums according to number of pictures, dates taken and holding capacity. Ooh, that just screams dangerous."
"Uh, yeah, it is dangerous. Paper cuts sting. You should know that," he playfully retorted, feigning hurt, but brightened up. "Well, I kind of had the hunch of 'conveniently' having the house empty tomorrow night. We give Chase and Zoey money to double date with Robin and Allen. Sure, we gave Zoey the guest room that has the bathroom connected to Chase's room, even though he has his own on the other side, but I trust his judgment."
Karen sighed, shaking her head, before speaking, "And then we'll be 'conveniently' alone."
"That's the plan. You in or out?"
"Yeah," she answered, pressing her lips to Steven's once more. "I'm in."
It was going to be a lot easier for her to perform this delivery now because she wasn't so nervous anymore.
--
"Hey stranger."
"Oh. Hey," Julie looked up from her muffin, and even though she usually enjoyed a good muffin, she just wasn't up for it. "Wow, you looked wrecked."
"Thank you. I'm in bedhead chic," Gary joked, making his sister laugh before he saw it falter and go back to staring at her muffin as if it were going to do backflips or burst into flames. "Okay, I know you just laughed to humour me, and Mom told me you were a little down, so what's up?"
Gary was well aware of his sister's impending divorce, after six years of marriage. On the outside, Paul and Julie looked like the picture perfect couple with the young, and quite brilliant son, but behind closed doors, things were dangerously strained. Paul was an accountant so he would leave her with an infant Jamie on "business trips" for weeks at a time. It was frustrating not having her husband around to help her, and after putting up with it for too long, Julie's rage brimmed over and in a drunken haze, she had one lapse of judgment by sleeping with a guy in a club that she didn't even know the name of while her son slept peacefully at her parent's house for the night. It was a stupid lapse of judgment, but she only cheated because he was doing it first.
Sure, it was stupid and quite childish but when she confessed, she apologized over and over to no avail, she decided to stop playing the victim and call him out on it.
Two wrongs definitely didn't make a right here.
A deafening crack echoed through the house as Julie's hand went sweeping across his face. Grabbing his stinging face, Paul gaped at his wife, and watched her eyes flame up with the anger, in his opinion, she had no right to feel. Luckily, the clock struck two-thirty and Jamie was contentedly at daycare, oblivious to the tension between his parents.
"How dare you," she seethed, her voice becoming broken. "How dare you throw that…mistake…in my face when you've been sleeping with that slutty 'co-worker' of yours for months! How stupid do you think I am?"
"Very," Paul retorted, bitterness lacing his voice as well. "At least I know who I fucked."
"So, you admit then," Julie laughed, bitterly. "You know her name, her favourite flower, and how many snow-globes are in her effing collection! I admit I made a mistake, and I acknowledge I shouldn't have done it, but I'm way better than you, Paul!" she yelled, jabbing an accusatory finger at her husband. "I'm a freaking saint compared than you, because at least I felt bad! You're just too self-righteous to accept that. I felt dirty, and cheap! Have you ever stopped and wondered what the hell would happen if we tell Jamie that his mommy and daddy split up because we jump down each other's throats when he's not around?"
"I don't know," Paul's eyes filled with frustration, and Julie felt bad until she realized this was the man who outwardly admitted to committing infidelity and confirming all of her suspicions. "We'll deal with it when the time comes."
Julie's eyes flickered to the clock and it was quarter to three. Sighing angrily, she walked over to the hooks situated near the door, grabbing her purse with her car keys tucked away inside. She needed to leave and get away for a while.
"I'm picking up Jamie from daycare," she announced, briskly, letting her hair down from the clip.
"I want to do it, Julie."
"No!" she replied, sharply, fixing the man a glare. She dangled her car keys, pleased at the red handprint she'd left before on his cheek. Wagging her finger as if speaking to a child, she said, "My car. My prerogative to go wherever I please away from you. You attempt to touch me and I will deal with you again."
"And I'll sue you for assault."
"Ooh, big man! Well done. You're even more a tool!" Julie taunted, with mock fear, and then her face hardened. She wouldn't cry, and she hated, absolutely hated, that she loved Paul regardless. It was quite stupid of her. "Besides, you have Amanda to tend to."
It took five minutes for Julie to leave, speeding down the road as fast as she could, while tears finally made the appearance, streaking her cheeks and making her mascara run.
Crying it out of her system helped, but she wasn't ready for Jamie's inquisitive nature, so Julie resolved to get it out of her system and then greet her son brightly as if nothing had happened.
It was getting easier to put on that façade with every passing day.
"I'm just so tired, and drained," Julie told her brother, rubbing her eyes. "Hell, Paul and I don't even talk anymore. The only we do is when it has to do with Jamie. And sometimes, I wonder if I'm losing my mind, Gary."
"What?" his eyes wide with surprise. He didn't know things had escalated that badly, but before he had any questions, he eyed Julie's banana nut muffin. It really good and it would be a shame to waste a perfectly good banana muffin. "I'll listen, but first, can I have your banana nut muffin? I just promised Laura I'd eat but now I'm actually starving."
She pushed the plate containing the muffin on it in his direction, "Here. Indulge away."
"You rule," Gary said, gratefully and broke a piece of the muffin, popping the piece in his mouth. It was crunchy from the nuts, and filled with warm softness from the banana. He chewed, and swallowed before Julie spoke again.
"Sure, I was mad. Hell, everyone is prone to anger – "
"Even though you've been to anger management like three times in five years?"
"Not helping."
He smiled, sheepishly through a mouthful of muffin goodness, "My bad. So, how bad has it gotten?"
"Well, how's this for bad: it almost got physical, and I picked up a vase and almost threw it at his head. Inches more, and I would have decapitated the father of my child!" she groaned, covering her face. "I feel like I'm going crazy. Like one day, I have a handle on things and other days, I can't tell which way is up. I'm at the end of my rope here, Gary. As much as I can't stand Paul at the moment, the prospect of being a single mom is starting to become real to me, and let me tell you, it's scared me shitless. God, I suck. This is your day, and I'm unloading all of this on you."
Fixing his sister with a sympathetic gaze, Gary smiled, "Nah, it's cool. You're my big sister, and you were a pain while we were growing up, but we're family. I love you, so I'll give you some brotherly advice."
"I'll take anything – "
"I know it's a stretch, but I know someone that can help," he braced himself for the reaction. Through a mouthful of the remains of banana nut muffin, he swallowed and inwardly flinched. "But hey, after Laura has the baby, go talk to her."
"Absolutely not!"
"Julie – "
"No, Gary! You know how me and Laura are," Julie crossed her arms over her chest, watching her younger brother put the remains of the banana nut muffin in his mouth. "You know that Laura wasn't carrying a baby, we would have pulling each other's hair right out of their roots and drop-kicking each other in the restaurant. We all know that."
Gary was forced to admit this was true, and he would have been forced to drag his inevitably livid wife in a fireman's carry, while apologizing over and over to his sister. But Gary had had it. He was tired of being in the middle, having to choose between his sister and his wife. It was a strain.
"Probably, but look, you're going to have to get along. You're my sister and she's my wife. I love the both of you, and you're going to be in Erin's life, regardless. Jamie's already so excited about his new cousin. So swallow your pride and go talk to her. She's a high school psychologist but she can help you with the whole situation."
"And what if I don't want it?"
Gary raised an eyebrow, and shrugged lightly, "Then you're as stubborn as I thought."
With her eyes downcast, she traced the grain of the cafeteria table with her finger. Hitting rock bottom really sucked. She felt her brother's questioning gaze boring into her, and she gave up, with a loud sigh.
"Fine. I'll talk to Laura," she conceded, standing up. Gary stood up too, towering over her, but he was always the shorter of two. Growth spouts and other feats of puberty changed this. Julie bit her bottom lip to keep it from trembling, her eyes becoming cloudy and blurred. "I'm…just –"
Gary grabbed her arm, "Come here," was his soft reply order, when he hugged his sobbing sister, "I love you, Jules."
And she loved Gary too.
--
"Stop being so damn selfish, Stan!"
"No! You're the one being selfish, Leah," he retorted, away from the company of everyone in the waiting down the hall and around the corner on the floor below.
"You have five seconds to shut up before I make sure you're a patient here," Leah threatened, her eyes narrowing to slits.
"Then I guess I'd better hurry it up, because I'm about to be impaled," he returned sarcastically. He was just as confused. He couldn't sleep, and his mind seemed to be overdrive all the time, every day since that kiss. Running a hand through his hair, Stan spoke, "Look, you can put up all of these defense mechanisms you want, but the fact of the matter is we kissed, and it's not going to go away!"
"Shh!" Leah harshly whispered, when she quickly craned her neck to see if anyone was coming before looking at Stan, anger coursing through her. There was a dark sense of guilt that hung over her when she looked at the engagement ring on her finger. Robert was a good guy, the sweetest fiancée and generally a good guy who didn't deserve to have a broken heart he didn't know of. "Lower your voice. Do you want to someone to hear us?"
"Us?"
"Yeah," she affirmed, gesturing between the space between them. "And don't you take that out of context."
"I'm not."
"Fine, because you kiss bad, dude," Leah said, adamantly. Her bed wasn't as warm and her head wasn't as clear. Suddenly, Robert's hugs and affectionate gestures made her stomach knots and twisted quite painfully, almost in a literal sense. Stan actually wasn't that bad of a kisser, but it was easier to tell him that. After all, she'd spent days telling herself that, and Leah wasn't going to let all of that imaginary wall building go to waste because her emotions were out of whack. "I hated you when we were kids, and I still hate you now. I regret kissing you."
"Oh, trust me. The feeling's mutual," Stan agreed, with a roll of his hazel eyes. He folded his arms, looking smug. "But I have a proposal to pitch at you."
"And just why should I take it?" Leah questioned, snidely. "I don't like you, remember? Did you the mayonnaise down the pants not teach you anything?"
"Yeah, it taught me a lot. Like how you have the makings of a psychopath, but that's beside the point. We've already established years of dislike between us, but I suggest we kiss. If it's been driving me crazy too, then we'll just get it over with and conclude that we hate each other, as usual. Therefore, it'll be nothing, and under no circumstances do we tell Laura."
Blinking in shock, she furrowed her eyebrows, "What kind of drugs are you high on? I'm not going to kiss you."
"Again," he corrected. He sighed, quite frustrated because the curiosity, the natural human curiosity, was suffocating him, smothering him mercilessly. He had to know, and was determined to decipher whatever feelings manifested when he kissed Leah. "What the hell do you have to lose?"
"My sanity, Stan. My fucking sanity, okay?" she spat, pointing a finger in his chest, sharply which made me grimace ever so slightly. "But you know what? I hate being challenged and I refuse to back down from anything especially if it's from – mmph!"
She felt those damn lips crush against hers painfully, so hard Leah actually thought it might leave a bruise. It was hard, and raw for they were never known to be soft or even civil to each other. It left Leah dizzy, and so she was done thinking, allowing all of the pent up emotion to bubble over. Her rationale was dashed out the window.
And the vicious cycle began again, and they didn't know how to stop.
--
"Now, please tell me why there's a lovely lady such as yourself is out here by all alone?"
The petite woman with shoulder length red hair swiveled her head after the taking a drag of her cigarette to meet the quite handsome stranger. Shaking the idleh as off the tip of the glowing end, she met the stranger's eyes which she concluded to be a dull blue colour. She sighed, quirking an eyebrow in questioning.
"Well, that depends. What's it to ya?"
"Oh, don't worry," Dean assured, pulling an unsmoked cigarette from behind his ear, and stuck it between his lips and lit up before inhaling deeply. Exhaling, he gazed at her and she was actually quite pretty with delicate features and bright green eyes. He had dark brown hair which looked black from a farther glance that curled slightly, and went around his ears and stopped at the nape of his neck. He laughed slightly. "I'm no predator if that's what you're thinking. Mind if I smoke beside you?"
The woman shrugged, smoke billowing from her lips and she held the half-smoked cigarette between her slender fingers.
"Sure, it's a free country, right?" her gentle tone replied. "So, why are you at the hospital anyway?"
"Well, my cousin's having a baby, and I basically drove because I can't have my mom kill herself because she's buzzed. Kinda too late, but life's a bitch that way. Don't worry, I don't live with her."
"True, I guess," she agreed, as Dean took a drag of his own cigarette. "And I wasn't thinking that. I also wasn't thinking you were a predator either. "
"So," Dean suggested, with a smirk. "…how about you I take you out for dinner and you get to know me. And then, you can have your own perception of what you think of me. I'm Dean."
Putting her free hand out for him to shake, she introduced herself, "Shannon."
Dean took her hand, bringing it to his lips and kissed it, before releasing it. He'd been with a lot of girls, but his genuine interest in Shannon was piqued. She was like a book filled with all of these mysteries he wanted so badly to decipher. With the others, he had deciphered the art of unhooking their bras in under fifteen seconds flat. But it wasn't like this at all.
"Pretty name."
Shannon took another hit of her cigarette before she threw it on the ground and crushed it under her shoe, putting it out.
"Ask a girl out on the first meeting," Shannon mused. "Pretty bold. Luckily, I admire you enough so my shift is over an hour, so we'll meet up here again, okay?"
"I'll be right here."
Shannon's retreating figure breezed by him, and Dean watched her disappear pulling the glass side door by the silver handles and into the hospital.
The July air brushed his face as he indulged in the feeling of the rush of nicotine.
Everything was coming up Dean.
--
I woke up a long time ago.
The ice chips were pretty damn sad but this was as close to food as I would get. And there's no way I'm touching that hospital food. Not the desserts, but the actual food. It makes me wonder if the ingredient was actually a smidge of actual vomit.
No. Uh-uh. I'm not going to even go there today.
I had a lot of people coming in and out of here, and talking to me - even some of the nurses I had yelled at before. In my defense, I was being driven the demon only brought on by painful labour so they can't say I'm crazy –
Oh, wait. Never mind. It's the sane kind of crazy.
Let's summarize the visitors, shall we?
There were my brothers, and my dad. And then Gary's parents, and cousin Dean…yay.
I always love hearing how "hot" I am and how Gary probably "nailed" me hard. Thank God for his smoke breaks, or I would have beaned him with a bedpan.
I'll go find one because I'm resourceful like that.
Or will my hand substitute for a bedpan? He left before we could test it out. Ugh.
How could we forget Aunt Rosie – our resident chugger?
"Why did you let Gary put a bun in your oven?"
Cue look of confusion that clearly reads WTF?!
"Uh, we're married. Remember you were at the wedding, and the reception camping out near the drinks," I offered, even though I thought it was useless. Let me tell you something: her brain is a cesspool. Like brain killing sewage! "We're married. Married people are allowed to have sex as much as they want – in most cases."
"You know Bruce boned me and ran off with some double D blonde hoochie…"
So? I really don't care.
Mind you, this is just same woman who broke out into a bad rendition of "I Will Always Love You," at the reception. If I had to choose, I'd take crackhead Whitney any day!
"Oh," I forced a smile. "That's, um, sad…"
I don't care. I don't care! Say it with me: I. DON'T. CARE.
And then I pretended to care until she left. Hallelujah!
And then Robyn, Chase and Zoey came by, until Robyn left to answer her phone quite annoyed because Allen decided to mix mustard and some other things in the back of his fridge and now he was home with a stomach ache. I've seen Allen before. Good dancer. Good skateboarder, but he's sorta…dumb.
He's hit his head one too many times on the asphalt WITH his helmet on. That's when you know it's just sad.
But Allen's good people. He's dim, but he's good people.
Stan and Leah both were here looking awkward as hell – I'm determined to find out!
More family came in, which I'm actually way too busy to name at the moment because my contractions are back and harder than ever. We're back to square one, but the only difference is I have nurses running in and out of here, people telling me push –
Yes. Because I'm in Fiji having a cocktail!
It's five-thirty in the evening, and I exhale deeply, after my first push. Gary's prying my legs apart and I have Karen practically talking to my hooter going, "Come on, Erin. Be good for Auntie Karen…"
She's a doctor, but it's disturbing.
I noticed that actually rhymed, but with the pain and excitement of this actually being a new beginning, I don't have the time.
This isn't Dr. Seuss time!
I exhaled, deeply, going for my second and (I HOPE TO EFFING GOD!) last push.
"That's right, Laura! Her head's almost out! And it's a full head of hair. Beautiful one!"
"Baby, you're doing good," I heard Gary encourage, and he had this stupid grin on his face. "Keep pushing!"
I'm going to rupture a blood vessel! What the hell do they think am I doing? Yeah. That's right. Bringing my daughter – whom I've waited nine months for – into the world.
I'm not telling her she's the product of rage-induced sex. I'll be telling her something romantic like sex on a moon-lit beach.
But when she's a teenager. I'm not traumatizing her now.
No. This wasn't my final. Third push, huh God? Okay, hoping for only two was a stretch. You win!
"Laura, give me one more and we can guide her out," Karen instructed. Then they started that whole count to ten deal. I personally think twenty-five is a way more sick number, but do I want to count to twenty-five while they count pitifully slow?
Yeah. No. My patience is way too thin for that.
So, I'll shut the hell up and start pushing again through SEARING pain. I'm not even kidding. It burned when I peed. It feels like someone put firecrackers there.
"One. Two. Three. Four…"
OH MY GOD! It's been ages!
"Five. Six. Seven. Eight."
"COUNT FASTER! NOW!" I screamed, quite loudly. "GODDAMNIT!"
"Nine. Ten…"
Oh my God. This is it. I'm going to frustrated and miserable. I bet this is how it ends. I live a pretty fulfilling life, get married and pregnant and then I can't even do this?! I can't even push anymore! Or do it right! Does that mean, I'll have to push again?
I don't want to push again. I suck! I'm terrible! Has my life amounted to this?
It burns!
I read something about it burning and a woman having an orgasm during delivery. Well, why the hell couldn't I get that? God knows there's been no sex in the house for nine months. Instead, I end up getting the "Ring of Fire". Sure, it burned slightly when I peed –
Oh, grow up! You're old enough. What word would like me to use?
How about tinkle or whiz?
Everything's a blur. I think I went deaf because I can't hear what anyone's saying anymore. Oh my God, I'm deaf! I can't dance or hear music ever again.
Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.
Oh God!
SOMEONE SHOOT JUST ME IN THE HEAD ALREADY!
And then I could hear again. I could hear again, and I felt this sense of relief – like the feeling you get when you're sick and you vomit, and then it's over and you're in this really nice place. I didn't know what the hell was going on. I mean, I did, but as mentioned before everything was a blur to me.
But when things stopped being blurry and sort of incoherent, the first thing I heard was the loudest cry. It rang out so loudly, it could have woken up the dead.
I was sure it was mine. My heart leapt in my throat, and I think I made a sound between a laugh and a sob. Karen had tears in her eyes too when she quietly sniffled after re-appearing. I mean, the nurses – I don't know how the hell they put up with my psychotic self – did all of the standard stuff weighing and measuring how tall Erin is.
And then I saw a small tear roll down Karen's cheek even though she brought a small bundle of pink and placed Erin in my arms.
I can't believe I'm staring at my daughter. I'm a mom. I actually get to care for this little person. Someone gets to be dependent on me, and look up to me as their provider and protector.
I'm staring down at my – MINE – own child, and it's all so surreal to me.
"Oh my God," I breathed, looking down and back to Karen who smiled, wiping the tear away. I sobbed, and tried to laugh again. Gary turned all red-faced and he quietly sniffled. "Oh my God…Oh my – I'm a freakin' mom!"
"I'll leave you three to bond, while getting over the fact I just delivered," Karen's voice broke slightly. "…my own niece. Thank you for allowing me to be part of that. Even so, you could have chosen any other doctor, but you chose me so thank you," she placed a hand near her heart. "…so, so much. I'm going to let everyone know the good news."
"Karen, we love you," Gary replied, while I agreed. "I'm a father, and my gratitude towards you and how you monitored this whole thing is amazingly high."
Karen, I will wash your car, and do other stuff you need me to do.
This genie (my imagination is baaaackkk!) is forever in your debt.
Like seriously, I'm forever in her debt and will just give Chase a hell of a time at PCA when she needs me to.
Like –snaps fingers- that. I will do it, I swear.
I'm also the master of subtlety and annoyance. Can't you tell?
Sorry, this is just my brain on overdrive. It'll cool down.
Karen left the room but not before she told me Erin weighed nine pounds one ounce and was twenty-two inches long. She's going to be a tall one. Suddenly, it was just the three of us and that's when it actually hit me that the three of us were a little family. The reality Erin was ours for life, and I can't get over what a perfect mix of Gary and I she is. I could just stare at her in owe, and her cries stopped being full out banshee screams and just little whimpers while I rocked.
Her skin stopped being that pale colour and she actually gained some colour, getting those cheeks that were full and rosy. Erin had a full head of fine dark brown hair already under that cap on her head. I think Gary practically melted when she opened her eyes and I caught a tinge of this bluish-greenish shade in them.
All it took was for Erin (Nicole Denise – I'm paying tribute to my mother here. Mommy, I did it! Oh, lord. I sound like those kids on the potty training commercials. Cure "I'm a big kid now" jingle here – Whitman) actually look at us to realize we were parents.
I sound like a record broken record, but AHHHH! –insert incoherency here-
And to think when I met you all, I saw only six months pregnant. Has it been three months already?
"She has your nose."
"Yeah?" Gary questioned, stroking her tiny cheek with the back of his index finger. "Well, she has your lips."
"And dancer's legs," I added in, too quickly, even though she was just born. Watch. Erin's going to be a dancer. We created this little life in my arms. "She really is beautiful, Gary."
"Just like her mother."
And then we kissed to seal the deal on our new beginning.
--
It's been about ten weeks since Erin was born, so she is now two and a half months and let me tell you that our house is actually is a lot more bouncier and busier.
In between feedings, and changing diapers (Gary won't touch the poopie ones – cute wuss of mine), I'm also back to my pre-pregnancy weight. Remember I joked about playing DDR for three hours straight to lose weight, it actually worked. And the workout and diet helped as well, but Dance Dance Revoloution was freaking fun. Gary's working from home more rather than the office for a while before we can get into a routine that works.
But yeah, down at the arcade, I'm known as the crazy psycho DDR lady.
Well, but at least, I have the highest score now…EVER! The only kid I have to beat to actually get the World's Highest Score is some kid in Singapore.
I didn't even know that they had Dance Dance Revolution in Singapore.
Not to say that they're dirt poor or anything, but..you know.
…
There's no underlying offence! Jesus. Just natural curiosity that makes me effing human!
So, here's the wrap up:
Everyone has been great. I brought Erin to PCA only about twice – once, I visited and two, I actually needed someone to babysit her one Saturday while Gary and I actually napped. You haven't to understand that there was no negligence here. Seriously, I think we just mumbled incoherent gibberish that translated to I love you, and that was it. We fell asleep. Turned off all phones, except the cell phone and just slept. We needed it, and we trust Chase and Zoey well enough.
Imagine my surprise when I come back and realize the only non-family person she's attached to is…Logan.
Watch out, Quinn.
He was asleep (he was up all night with his brother helping him get prepared for some surf meet thing -- that's why Ethan wasn't around) on the couch with Erin sort of sleeping on him.
"Ah, I'll miss you too, Dollface," Logan said, giving Erin back to me, but not before he tickled her tummy and she gave him the beginnings of a smile. "Seriously, tell anybody I'm actually attached to Erin and we'll have a problem."
"Aww, I think it's cute. It's quite endearing," Quinn replied, kissing him. He smiled slightly, and rubbed his eyes.
"Yeah, and you're the only one allowed to think so."
Oh, right. The rep thing. Gotcha.
"Look at you being all nice and such," Michael teased, getting a glare form Logan. "You never show anyone, besides Quinn probably, your noodle monkey – "
"David Monkeyhoff isn't noodle-like," he defended. "Your stupid Bobo Bear is one-eyed anyway! Moneyhoff can take him any day!"
Michael looked at incredulously, shaking his head, "Uh-uh. I know you just did NOT diss Bobo."
Long story short: Quinn sighed, and left to deal with the argument while calling Lisa for back up.
And then I left after seeing, and introducing everyone to Erin.
Keegan (Mr. Bender's kid) toddled over to her and kissed her cheek with a loud, "Muah! Baby!"
The kid's straight pimpin'. I mused.
Erin's become quite the character, developing a personality I can't really identify yet. Now, she's learning to raise her head on her own little by little. She loves her formula and her (well my) breast milk. If she doesn't get it, it's Mount St. Erin up in here. Contrary to what I thought, she sleeps through the night even though it was hard in the beginning.
Let's just say, Gary and I could've been given parts of Night of Living Dead if a casting agent were right there, and we wouldn't have to act because we were dead tired.
Pun not intended.
She's a friendly baby, and now she smiles all the time unless she's hungry or tired and wanting to go to sleep. Then it's like, "If I'm not happy, nobody's happy, so excuse me while I cry loudly and wreak havoc, Mom!"
Susan helps all the time. Jerry totally adores her, and I could have sworn seeing my father's eyes cloud of with tears when I told him about the extra middle name.
Karen and Steve are around a lot more, and we even let Robyn sleep over for about a week because she wanted to help us.
Julie and I talk a lot more surprisingly, especially now the stuff going down with Paul.
I guess she's finding something in me that'll help her vent, and I'll listen because I'm actually willing to and not wishing to be shot in the ear so I can't hear any of it.
That's some Mr. and Mrs. Smith shit right there. We're not all sisterly, but at least we're getting there and don't take low blows at each other. Jamie treats Erin like more of a little sister, and he's so protective of her, it's so cute, but nice that Jamie understands at such a young age.
And no.
Don't even get into the lemonade thing. I quite enjoyed it very much, as sadistic as it was, but we're leaving that alone. Don't go there!
She'll never know.
Dean has this new girl in his life, which would explain why he's not as perverted. Shannon, he says.
Apparently, the magic of my circumstance brought them together, and Aunt Rosie still hits the booze hard, and I think she's trained herself to be sober and wasted at the time. Wonder if she can do that while suffering cirrhosis one day.
Oops, knock on wood. Even though, it's inevitable.
Now, on to my BFFs.
Stan and Leah have an even more complicated relationship. She explained to me while visiting her "rockin' godkid,", and I think I may need therapy. I'll only dive into the shallow end because if I go any farther you may need to go to therapy too, and I don't want to scar any of you for life.
But if you want to do it yourself.
Watch the god-awful Spankwire in which crazy, deranged people(?) assault their…uhm, area.
Lighting them on fire, and flattening it (if you're a guy, you'll feel this, and be a cringing mess. Gary did. Erin was asleep, and thank God, she cried when she did, because I stood and BOLTED!) is just one of the ways.
If you want to scar yourself, then yeah…do that.
"I don't love Stan, but Jesus Laura, when he kisses and he touches me, it's like he's a whole different person. He's not dorky and a tool, but I know he's not himself when we're in that "state". I love Robert, but I strangely turned on by Stan. I have no idea why, and it's messing me up big time. I don't know why Veronica left if she was just in it for the fucking –"
"Leah!"
"Well, Robert's okay in the sack, but Stan's just…I don't know…it's like live-action porn uncensored. It's, well, rough, and we hurt each other. There's biting, and scratching…and a whole bunch of things."
A normal person would have chose hickeys, but nooo…not Leah. She particularly raked his neck. It's like the scratches of a cat on steroids.
I had a sarcastic remark forming in my head about how much she was selling the upcoming porn tape with DVD extras, but it couldn't come.
I was busy burping Erin, and gaping at her at the same time.
And this is why I may need therapy.
Did I forget anyone?
…
…
Nope. No? Okay, then.
So, that's how it's been. I actually asked Dean Rivers for six months instead of three, so I'll be back at work in January.
Now, if you don't mind, I hear the beginnings Erin crying upstairs, but I like my life a whole lot better.
I'm a mother and a guidance counselor. And I get to teach dance too? It's like a winning the lottery.
-insert happy dance, which I can ACTUALLY do now- Yep. Still got it.
(Out of boredom last week at a barbecue, Robyn and I broke into cartwheels, while Chase jumped over the fence without barely touching it! Luckily, I caught that on video because I don't think he would be able to do that again. The boy was born with a smidge of anti gravity, I know he was. We're lovably crazy! Everybody scream!)
...
Life is most defintely where I want it.
A/N: Oh. My. God. This story is actually over. I left a lot of open-ended stuff to be explored in the much longer sequel. It'll start from January (after Holiday break) to about May-June (prom/graduation) time. Oh, wow. I can't get over the fact that this story is finished!
THANKYOU!
From the bottom of my heart, thank you to everybody who reviewed, left a PM, gave me a bunch of ideas to use and just made this story fun and into something quite epic (for me anyway). I appreciate the love and I'm ready to FINALLY put this story to rest. Excuse any errors you might find. It's nearly 2AM here, so forgive me!
I'm formulating a Quogan Hallowen piece that finally came to me. I know. It's late, but I'll write it anyway because it's haunting me, lol.
Vote at my new poll. I cleaned up the profile a little bit because it was getting too cluttered.
Review for the last time and make it count!
Once again, thank you!
-Erika