"Never Gonna Be Alone"
Chapter X: "A Rough Start"
The next morning it seemed couldn't have come any earlier for Ricky. The young man had been up later than he had anticipated getting everything situated and unpacked, for his part, and for taking care of John. For hours, it seemed, he slaved over everything that was deemed necessary to make them feel comfortable right away so that they could start out immediately on day one and forget all about Ben, Adrian, and the problems back home. That's all Ricky wanted, to forget about what had happened...in his heart it still angered him beyond belief. But, with props to years of therapy, he found himself able to control his rage that threatened to surge forth from inside of him.
He had spent the late hours unpacking his and John's things into the drawers located about the apartment, and even took the time to carry Amy's bags into the bedroom...that was a good thing, right? A good start?
Afterwords, it seemed for awhile that even in his terribly exhausted state, Ricky was stricken with a sense of insomnia. With everything that was on his mind, it wouldn't be surprising to most for the reasons he was kept awake. But to Ricky, it was. He had always been able to keep a certain amount of grip on things, partially because he viewed himself as a strong person for what he had gone through throughout his childhood. And perhaps he was right.
But in the silence of the night, Ricky sat still at the table, glancing off into the nothingness with not a simplified thought on his mind. He couldn't seem to put his finger on any sort of specific reason why he couldn't sleep, it was just there. Many times he found himself running his hand through his hair or gently massaging his throbbing temples to no avail of relieving any pain.
From time to time he would glance over at his son. His son, he repeated over and over inside his head. He still couldn't exactly comprehend the full impact of what that meant, especially at seventeen. And then he would look at Amy...and felt a whole different set of emotions flood his system. Ones that pained him with guilt him, and ones he tried to dispute.
Yet somehow he felt free. Ricky found himself somewhat enjoying this time; for in darkness, all the imperfections of the world are stripped away, and you are left with yourself and your thoughts.
What exactly was on Ricky's mind was hard to calculate, even for him. He kept asking himself over and over how in the world was he going to try to better their lives as a family in one week when they've been so back and forth since day one. Yet he felt that now, in the early morning hours, his pondering and awareness of such things was a good start to what he and Amy hoped for come weeks' end.
"George...George." Anne poked her ex husband, trying to wake him.
All she received was a muffled groan.
Anne scoffed, stepping back slightly. "George!" She raised her voice, slapping him in the shoulder.
"What, what!?" The man snapped awake, groggily sitting up abruptly in bed. He looked over at the clock resting on the nightstand. 7:30 A.M.
"Why are you yelling at me this early, Anne?" He moaned, plopping his head back down against the pillows.
"Yeah, exactly," she responded, "it's the morning and we never got a call from Amy last night."
Anne sat down on the edge of the bed, appearing concerned. "I just woke up, too, and saw there were no messages. The last time we talked was right before they left last night."
"Well, I'm sure they're fine," George assured, sitting up once again. "Hey maybe they--" he was cut off by a piercing glare from his ex wife. "Right," he nodded, smiling slightly, "no jokes this early. Just call Ames."
The sudden cry of a baby reached their ears from another room. "Robbie's awake, too," Anne said, rolling her eyes. "Here, you call," she forcefully handed him the phone.
"What's all the noise for?" Another voice broke through from outside their room.
"Come, come, Ashley," Anne said, retreating from her bedroom into the hallway. "I need your help."
As she closed the door, George forced himself up and dangled his legs over the side of the bed.
Through the stillness of the air compacted into the apartment, a profound ring blared out rhythmically, penetrating the silence. With no movement, the noise repeated again and again, literally taunting those asleep to be woken from their slumber.
In the corner of the living room area, a young child stirred slightly in his crib, reacting to the foreign tone that had reached him. In doing so, he let out a soft cry, an almost inaudible sound if not for the speaker laying by his side.
The gentle cry of the baby became louder as it traveled through the speaker, emitting from the other end of another walkie. This caused the young man holding it to flinch, raising his exhausted eyes from the table where he rested his head.
Momentarily, the actuality of the events connected inside Ricky's head, and he quickly ascended his aching body, feeling an unpleasant pressure throb his forehead. He stumbled over as well as he could in the direction of his stirring son, who by now was even more agitated by the continuous ringing.
"Sh-sh-sh-sh-sh," Ricky attempted to calm John as he lifted him from the crib, cradling him in his arms and gently rocking him back and forth. It was then that he became aware of the reason for his son's current displeasure. Ricky glanced over at Amy's cell phone which resided on a small table by the couch Amy was resting on.
Ricky scoffed, picking up the device. "Hello?" Who would be calling this early?
"Ricky?" Came the voice on the other end.
The young man realized who it was and cleared his throat, "One moment." Ricky turned towards Amy and slightly prodded her, becoming more agitated when she didn't respond.
"Hello? Is that Ricky? Are you with Amy?" The voice on the other line questioned feverishly.
"Hold on," Ricky spoke through the softening cries of John. "Amy...Amy get up."
"Five more minutes," she whispered, turning over on her side.
"Amy, you need to get up, your dad's on the phone," Ricky pleaded irritably, having a hard time holding onto an upset John with one arm and a cell phone in the other. "Amy," he called again with no response.
How could she still possibly be sleeping through this?
"She'll have to call you back," Ricky spoke into the phone, snapping it shut and tossing it on the couch.
Ricky carried his son into the kitchen and withdrew some formula from one of the bags sitting on the counter. He then made himself comfortable on a cushioned chair opposite of Amy and began to slowly rock back and forth, gazing down at his son whom he continued to try to calm.
From the rhythmic feeling of his father, John's cries slowly decreased, his small body curling up as his mind went blank and he once again began to drift off to sleep. Once the toddler regained his quietness, Ricky stared simply at the child, looking him up and down with amazement. John pressed his face against his father's chest as if sleeping soundly to the beat of his heart.
Ricky sighed, carrying his son back over to his crib where he once again hovered him slowly into the mass of pillows and stuffed animals. As before, the young child rested his head on the cushioned surface and drifted off into a favorable sleep, something Ricky envied at the moment.
By now the sun had began to rise over the horizon to the east; it's gentle, orange morning rays sliding up the cold stone building and penetrating through the big glass windows that parted the apartment living room and the balcony. It instantly drew Ricky's attention, and even in his confusion on what had just happened, he walked slowly towards the glass, opening the doors and stepping out to a beautiful sunrise.
The cool morning breeze flickered through the air and Ricky closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. He peered down over the edge and saw lush green hills rolling over the landscape, traveling far into the distance, and to his right the clear, blue waves lulled against the sand slowly. In this moment, what he had previously judged as a dark, creepy place, now took on a whole new meaning: it looked like Heaven.
Perhaps, Ricky thought, with darkness comes clearance, but with light comes beauty.
Something that seemed to be vacant in his life.
"Ricky?" He could barely hear her soft voice from the balcony.
Amy lifted her head slowly to survey what was going on as Ricky walked back into the room with her.
"How are you? I thought I heard some commotion," Amy said sleepily.
Ricky cleared his throat, not looking in her eyes as he passed by on his way to the kitchen. "Yeah, you're dad called and it woke up John. He got kind of fussy but he settled down quickly; I just couldn't really handle that and the phone at once."
"Well what did my dad want?"
"Not sure," Ricky replied, fidgeting around in the kitchen, "didn't really have time to pay attention to that."
"Yeah..." Amy trailed off, her eyes sank to the floor. She could tell simply by his presented manner that he wasn't in the best of moods. "Well I should probably call him, then..."
"Yeah," Ricky said simply, "wouldn't want him to worry."
With that, Amy got up and retrieved her cell phone from the couch, moving into another room to call her father.
In the kitchen, Ricky clanged around a dish or two and abruptly paused, leaning against the counter. This morning had already been chock full of mood swinging factors. He knew that he shouldn't have been so retracted towards Amy just now, but he couldn't help it. There was something inside of Ricky that pressured him into almost...having to retaliate against Amy. Where in the hell did that come from? He was just irritated from awhile ago, yes, that's all...
The repetitive tone sounded twice in her ear before, "Amy?? Is that you?"
Amy let out an exasperated breath, brushing her bangs out of her face. "Yeah, hi dad." She produced a short laugh.
"Ames, what is going on? Are you okay?" Her father was obviously concerned.
"Yeah, yeah," Amy replied, assuring George. "sorry about this morning...It was early and we were all asleep; the phone kind of woke up John so Ricky was trying to calm him--"
"So you're with Ricky?" George tried to confirm.
"Of course, dad," Amy laughed again, almost nervously.
"Well good. I mean...we were just concerned. You didn't call last night or any point along your trip so your mother and I got a little worried, that's all. When Ricky answered the phone things weren't exactly clear."
"Yes well, John's back asleep now and we're both up. Just going to try to figure out what's going on, I suppose." Her voice grew quieter as she sat on the edge of the bed, her legs dangling over the side.
"You okay, Ames?"
"Yeah," Amy exhaled, "I hope so."
"I'll let your mother know you're alright."
"Thanks, dad."
She couldn't see it, but George smiled. Now, with his first born daughter out of his reach, in the hands of another man, he placed his trust. He trusted that everything was going to be alright.
"Adrian Lee".
A young woman, accompanied by a tall, slender man ascended their seats and walked through the small, cramped waiting room towards the nurse. When they met up, she led them into a door and down a long hallway, fit with multiple doors on each side. When they came to a certain one, the nurse looked down at a file and directed them into the door.
"Ah, Adrian?" A man already inside the room greeted them.
Adrian forced a smile as her and Ben sat down beside one another.
"Umm, hi, I'm Ben," he introduced himself. "And.." He cleared his throat, turning towards her.
"I'm Adrian," she said quietly.
"Well, good morning then," the doctor said cheerfully after a brief pause. "I'm Doctor Foss; it's nice to meet both of you." He smiled.
In response, both teenagers sat silently, glancing around at the various medical equipment in the room.
"Well, obviously we know why you're here," he addressed Adrian. "I understand you've been here before?"
"Once before, yes," Adrian replied, once again quietly. "To make sure..."
"Ah, yes, I see," the doctor analyzed. "Well I suppose we'll just get right to it. Adrian, if you wouldn't mind hopping up here for me we'll get things going." He patted the table softened with sheets.
Adrian stood slowly and glanced at Ben as she made her way over to the table.
"Would you like him to stay or leave?" Doctor Foss said, catching the look between the two.
"It's fine," Adrian forced a small smile. "He's fine."
The doctor glanced between the two and smirked. "All right. Adrian what I'm going to do is, of which I'm sure you've heard of, called an ultrasound. Most people have the general idea of what's going on but it is protocol for me to explain it. We're going to use this device and a special gelatin to take a look at your baby."
Adrian stared on at the doctor as he continued to address her. In her mind, those words 'your baby' both stung and, strangely, calmed her.
"I'm just going to have to ask you to lift you're shirt up a bit so we can access your midsection and lay flat on your back. Are you ready to begin?"
"Yes," they both said.
The doctor then held up a sort of wand-like instrument connected with a wire to the computer. He squeezed the gelatin onto the tip of it and gently pressed it against Adrian's stomach, causing her to flinch slightly from the cold.
"Yes," the doctor laughed, "it is cold."
For awhile the doctor performed the same actions over and over; rubbing the instrument around and squinting towards the computer monitor. Many times during this, Adrian glanced over at Ben, who remained silent in the corner of the room. Ben, honestly, wasn't aware of what to do. He had only finally agreed to come with her because he knew, as his dad had convinced him, this was the right thing to do.
With her glances toward him, Adrian seemed to be reaching out for someone to walk with her. But would Ben be that someone?
"Okay," the doctor finally broke his silence. "Here we go," and both teenagers immediately directed their attention to the screen.
There wasn't much, quite honestly.
"So as you can see, it's definitely quite early on," Doctor Foss motioned towards the screen. "But if you look closely..." He tapped keys on the keyboard a few more times, apparently attempting to retrieve a better image.
On the screen was mainly a black, somewhat abstract image, moving slightly as the doctor held the tool to Adrian's stomach. But, if looked closely upon, somewhere in the center of the black was a small form.
"...There is your baby."
Adrian exhaled in surprise, her mouth agape as she stared at the screen. Yes, she knew she had been pregnant, and yes, it scared the hell out of her at times. But seeing this...it almost brought tears to her eyes.
Ben, in turn, stared open mouthed at the screen, too. For he, like Adrian, in this moment, was nothing but perplexed.
That was their baby.
Doctor Foss caught the looks of them both and smiled softly. "Okay, well we're done." He smiled, standing up to retrieve some small towels for Adrian. "As you clean up there, miss, we'll just talk a little bit more."
Adrian grabbed one of the towels and dried off her stomach as she made her way back to her seat beside Ben. The doctor sat before them and he grew very serious.
"You're both seventeen, right?" He said.
"I'm sixteen, she's...she's seventeen," Ben corrected.
Adrian reached out and grasped Ben's hand tightly, intertwining her fingers with his own.
Doctor Foss nodded, "It's time to discuss your options."
So far throughout the day, Amy and Ricky had awkwardly kept their distance from each other as much as possible. To each other, they summed it up as individually "relaxing", if you will, and spent little time associating in the morning. However, to themselves, they were each confused for the same reason. Why was this suddenly so awkward?
The only time in those morning hours that they really did briefly communicate was to be with John, and both parents found that slightly disheartening. Was this, the very first day, already a sign that they only thing that connected them was the child they had had together? A child that wasn't planned, mind you they loved John, this is very obvious, but more than anything this fact only pressured the awkwardness of the situation even more.
Ricky had retreated to himself mostly in a separate room to be alone by himself, with the exception of seeing John every once and awhile, generally when Amy was busy with something else. In secret, he had been sending and recieving text messages with Adrian that morning. After her call late last night, he couldn't help but be slightly concerned, given the circumstances. As it turned out, she and Ben were going to the clinic that morning, and this made Ricky upset--for it was not only the reoccuring thought of them two having a baby, but more so the fact that he had generally not been there in times such as that for Amy. She had not wanted him there.
In accordance, Amy had also been in touch with Ben, briefly. He, too, had informed her of their clinic visit that day. And, of course, she was wary to talk to him, especially in secret, but nevertheless hoped that everything went well.
All in all, the two young parents seemed to keep themselves deliberatly separated that first morning, cooping up into opposite ends of the apartment, connected only by their son in the living room.
It was then decided around midday, when Amy's stomach begin to growl with hunger, that perhaps they should go out and get some food. After all, there was little sufficient food in the apartment, and Ricky had brought money for such things.
"Ricky?" Amy called from outside the door, pressing her ear close to the wood to see if she could hear anything. Nothing. Amy scoffed, rolling her eyes.
Amy gripped the door handle and exhaled softly. "Ricky, I was wondering if--are you--," she opened the door but was abruptly cut off, as if immediately struck still in her place by a brick wall.
As Amy stood shocked in the doorway, she stared at the young man in front of her. Her eyes traveled slowly up his legs and onto his toned stomach and chest. Amy's heart pounded ferociously inside of her, and she drew short of breathe, feeling her face burn crimson red when her eyes finally locked onto his.
A shirtless Ricky Underwood paused from buckling his belt and turned his head towards the frozen girl in the doorway. He smirked, staring back into her eyes as she cowered slightly from his gaze.
This definitely wasn't planned.
"Umm," Amy stumbled, turning her head from him and looking away, "I was--I--just wondering if you wanted to--"
"Actually I was just about to ask if you wanted to go get something to eat? We haven't had anything all morning." Ricky said solemnly, continuing to stand before her.
"Yeah," Amy laughed nervously, "that's what I was going to ask..."
"There's a place nearby," Ricky replied. "Can you get John ready?"
"Yeah," she replied softly, her eyes darting about the room--anywhere but...him. "Five minutes," she cleared her throat, attempting to gather herself, yet still keeping her eyes away from Ricky.
"Is everything okay?" Ricky asked, stepping towards her slightly.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Amy backed up in turn, "I'll just go get John." And with that she turned and quickly exited the room, shutting the door firmly behind her.
Amy made a beeline towards John's crib, her mind still slightly numb from what just happened. Amy sensed a feeling well up inside of her. A feeling she had experienced before. A feeling that definitely didn't help the awkwardness of the trip.
As agreed, about five minutes later the two parents and their son met in the living room. The tension between the two was thick as they exited the apartment, for not a word was spoke. Ricky tried to make conversation a few times as they walked down the sidewalk in pursuit of the restaurant, but Amy provided little response, and Ricky was both irritated and understanding--he, too, felt the...awkward sensations.
They arrived at the restaurant not ten minutes later. It was a nice, calm place. More of an outdoor pavilion, in tune with nature with its open, airy atmosphere. All of the doors and windows, where there were any, were wide open to let the California breeze blow through. Various plants and trees were scattered around the perimeter and the entire structure seemed to be constructed of a beautifully polished wood. Just another slice of Heaven.
"I'll go let them know how many we need," Ricky informed Amy who was holding John. "Be right back little guy," he smiled at his son.
"Hi, my name is Amanda," the waitress greeted flirtatiously as Ricky walked up to the counter. "How may I help you?" She winked at him.
Ricky smirked, "Three."
"Oh, I see. With your parents?" She questioned.
"No," Ricky smirked again. "Not exactly. But, if you wouldn't mind finding a place with shade--for my son."
"Oh, your son," she sounded disappointed.
"Yeah, sorry." Ricky laughed, reaching to get his wallet out.
"Well, it shouldn't be that much of a wait at all. Just a moment," she smiled and walked away from the counter.
After a brief exit, she returned with two menus and a kids menu. "That'll be $23.50," she calculated, typing on the cash register.
"Okay," Ricky paid her and handed him the menus along with something else.
"If you want to, just call me sometime." She said, smiling and winking at him. "Would you do that...?" She trailed off, implying.
"Ricky," he finished, smiling back.
"Right this way, Ricky." He beckoned Amy over and the waitress guided them to a shaded table.
As they settled in, Ricky sat across from Amy and John and began to attend to the menu. He then felt that he was being watched and looked up. Amy, indeed, was staring right at him. She had a judging look on her face, holding John tightly against her. Ricky swallowed and stuffed the waitress's number swiftly in his pocket.
The whole of the lunch was, as the morning had been, spent in silence. If anything, Amy seemed to ignore Ricky and only speak excitedly to the child sitting in her lap. Ricky looked on, confused at what she was making a big deal about. He hadn't done anything.
As they walked back to the hotel, afternoon had transferred into full swing, the golden sun was slowly beginning to set behind the hills. And Ricky, who was holding a sleeping John in his arms, felt ever grateful that this day was almost over. Amy walked a ways ahead of him. Apart from the awkward looks and tensions exchanged between them throughout the day, he still didn't know why she seemed to be distancing herself from him.
Ricky simply dismissed it as another one of, what he deemed, Amy's childish overreactions, but dreaded the thought of spending six more days with her in this place if things were going to continue as they had been that day.
When they finally retreated to the apartment, Amy quickly rushed into the only bedroom with John, leaving Ricky irritated and confused in the living room. Slamming the door, she locked them both in the room, and Ricky began to pace outside. He shouldn't care why she was mad--or should he. Why was she mad? He didn't do anything. If this was about the waitress...Yes he was attracted and may have flirted a little, but that--that was nothing. And why would she be upset about that?
After about forty five minutes, Amy appeared from the room, darting quickly over to the kitchen in attempt to get something for John, running right past Ricky who was sitting at the table.
"Hey, hey what's going on, Amy? What's wrong?" Ricky said, ascending his seat in the direction of her.
"Nothing, I'm fine."
"Where's John?"
"You don't deserve to see your son," Amy retorted back coldly.
"Are you--what the hell are you talkin' about, Amy? You're not making any sense." His voice began to grow louder, yet Amy didn't back down. Instead, she walked right up to him until they were face to face.
"That, at the restaurant," she implied, annoyed.
"Trust me, that was nothing. Nothing that doesn't make me worthy to see my son."
"It doesn't matter, Ricky! You don't need to be with any woman because of your son."
"What I do with my time alone is my business, Amy. You don't control me."
"This isn't your alone time. This is time you're supposed to be spending with--," she stumbled momentarily, looking down at the floor. "With John."
"With John." Ricky restated in disbelief of what she had reasoned. "Or is something going on here?"
"I don't know," she responded quickly, attempting to disregard the question. "Nothing."
"Right," he struck, "well you're overreacting. This isn't helping anything."
Amy began to feel her face grow hot, small tears welling in the corners of her eyes. "Ben wouldn't have--" She said softly, staring at the floor.
"Yeah, well you don't have a baby with Ben. You have one with me. Ben got Adrian pregnant, remember?!" Ricky was fuming.
Amy stopped breathing, her mouth opened as she looked up at him, the tears beginning to fall, sliding mercilessly down her cheeks. She scrunched her face and began to sob, darting past him back into the bedroom, leaving Ricky behind, standing in the center of the room.
It was in this moment when the impact of Ricky's raged words pounded against his conscious, hitting home on what he had said and how it had just lacerated them both, especially Amy. Ricky's jaw dropped in disbelief of his own anger.
"Oh, my God." He said; what the hell did he just do?
Amy lay curled up on the bed, crying severly as she clinged to the pillow, feeling lashes of pain strike her insides. Now, she just wanted to go home.