The sound of piano drifted from its spot in the dining room as I was lying in my bed upstairs. I try to place the last time I heard the piano being played but realized he must only play when I was at school.
I roll myself off my bed and wander down the stairs, listening to him play. I hummed along, knowing the song was by Yiruma was who a Korean composer.
I sit beside him on the bench and lean my head on his shoulder listening to the piano. He was the musical one of the family. It started when Nan and Di wanting piano lessons which never took off, but Shirley watched them and picked up enough to play the songs. Much like my own way with dance. Shirley could hear a song and play it back on the piano maybe an hour later on the piano. He could read music of course, and he had his certificates from the conservatory of music, but his talent laid in the fact he could play by ear.
"I miss hearing you play," I tell him. "Does Wynnie know?"
"She knows," Shirley responded with a nod of his head.
"How did you meet?" I ask him realizing I had no idea when they even started dating really.
"We met at a friend's place when I was messing about on the drum kit in his garage." He said as he went into another song that I didn't know. Shirley could play a handful of instruments at this point. Piano, drums, and a tenor sax from his time in high school band. "She likes when I play for her." He adds with a small smile on his face.
"Well, you are the best out of us kids," I say. "Even she likes it," I tell him rubbing my belly.
"Does she?" He says as he moves into another song, this one called Wait There, again by Yiruma. A song I danced for a recital, which he had played for me.
"Give me your hand?" I tell him and he gives me a look. "She won't bite, not yet anyway," I joke.
He stops playing with his right hand and lets me place it on the spot where she feels the most active. He hits a few more keys and receives a small series of kicks.
"That is something else, does she does that all the time?" Shirley asks me with a look of disbelief on his face.
"She does sleep or have quiet moments," I explain to him as I play a few keys. I tap out one of the few songs that I know. Heart and soul the ever so popular kids duets. Shirley joined on my next round of the melody as we fall into sync as we play the out the song.
"What does it feel like to you?" Shirley asks quietly.
"It's weird," I tell him honestly. "I can almost tell how she positioned from where her movement is now though."
"Ken's felt it?"
I hum and nod my head.
"What up with the two of you?" Shirley asks gruffly.
"We're just friends trying to figure things out," I tell him simply.
"Yet you kissed him," He raises an eyebrow at me for a split second. I shrug my shoulder, letting my curly hair fall in my face. Shirley being who he is begins another familiar song he once taught the upper melody to. I fall into place with him as he gets to a spot where I know to come in at. It's not a duet but he made it one for me and we play it decently well for my lack of practice.
"Have you done many things for the dance kids this year?" I ask him curiously. He used to mix most of my competition music for me for fun. When another parent asked where they got the cd from they explained that Shirley did it for me. Since then he makes money during the year putting together music for dance competitions. Often it's medleys or mash-ups were needed.
"Made a couple hundred," he says nodding his head as we played through the song.
"Do you want to be a teacher?" I ask him, thinking about his own time he spent in college.
"It's a job that I can pay the bills with. As much as I love mixing and producing tracks. Music engineering isn't easy of a scene to break into? Although I minor in computer engineering though, which at least makes school interesting to me." I nod my head frowning. At least I wasn't the only one who had to fight for their dreams. Except for at least and Shirley and Di's cases, they managed to get what they wanted somehow. "Plus it will take Wynnie about five years to finish her degree at the UofPEI, so it's giving me something to do? Maybe we'll move to Toronto or Vancouver and try to get a job at a record label or something later down the road?"
"You really love her don't you?" I ask, and I see him blush and stop playing, but nods his head. He begins to play once more. "You guys are safe right?" I ask him joking.
"Very funny." Shirley gives me a look. "Thanks to you, I got another talk after Thanksgiving from your bombshell of news. With her with me, I never did thank you for that." He gave me a brotherly look of annoyance.
"I'm sorry for that," I tell him with a frown. "Can you play, When the Love Falls?" I ask him.
"Fine, but I don't understand why you love that song so much?" he smiles at me but begins to play.
"It's pretty and sad all at the same time," I tell him. "Plus you can play it much better than I can."
"Just listen," Shirley shushes me and I lay my head on his ever-moving shoulder once more. I know the melody but heart, it's ingrained into my memory of my mind and feet. I can still feel myself dancing it on stage. The memory is so far away, yet still real and fresh in my mind. It haunts my dreams.
Later after he goes to work I find the videos of me dancing, references to spot my troubled areas. I have notes on every video. They seem so old now as I watch them, listening to the music, feet moving, toes pointing as I watch myself. Dressed up in a tutu, tiara and bun, the piano is slow and haunting as I reach out for the ghost I am looking for.
Maybe more than I could have ever thought?
I can feel him before I see him as he stands there watching the T.V screen as I dance. Step by step, pirouette and arabesque around the stage. Flittering around, searching for the thing that I lost, no one understands the pain beneath it all. The emotions on my face as I dance through bleeding blisters and cracked toenails. How awful I felt that day, I skipped lunch trying to appear at slim as I possibly could for that performance.
He sits down as it fades into the next video of me in the studio, Shirley on the piano in the corner as he plays 'Wait There'. Dressed in nothing more than a leotard and old beat-up leg warmers and tights. My shoes are frayed and stained, dying with each leap or bourrée I do. Still the I have the serene look on my face as I feel the music, my leg extended far outs as I hold there until I tremble, waiting for the music to fade back in. I see the sweat soaking through my leotard by the end of it, this was the third take trying to get it right. At the end, I am sitting on the floor in front of the camera before Shirley goes into another song. I watch myself look at the camera as if I was judging myself as I poked the rolls of my stomach before I sigh and give the camera a look before I start another round of rehearsal.
"I didn't know you were that good?" He says mulling over his choice of words, still watching me dance to quiet music on the screen. "Granted I don't know much about ballet, though why aren't you in actual ballet school. They have them in Toronto and Winnipeg, don't they? I swore that I heard Walter say you auditioned before?"
I frown looking down at my feet. "I did audition back in spring of grade nine and I got in, but with everyone in college, it was too expensive. Tuition, dorms, shoes, uniforms…it was quickly vetoed." I say quietly. "Plus I'm not that great, These videos are full of mistakes," I tell him trying to play it off like it hurt less than it did. Of course, what I don't tell him I have them written all down. Every missed count, wobble, cover-ups for when I misstepped. I even criticized my own body about how my tights dig into my waistline. I measured myself every day trying to lose that half an inch that I want to lose. It tortured me for weeks to lose those five pounds.
Not that I would say that out loud to anyone, those are hidden away in notebooks.
He merely hums. I wonder if he will ask the same question I get from my old dance mates. Why give it up? I watch him for a moment before I realize he won't ask. Which I am thankful for because I don't think I could truly explain it to him if he did.
"I didn't realize you were coming over?" I look at him.
"Your appointments today isn't it?" He looks at me.
"My appointment is tomorrow," I shake my head. "Pretty sure it is, as I get up and wander over to the kitchen. I look at the calendar which I had written it down in so my parents would now. "It's on tomorrow, it's Wednesday," I tell him.
"No pretty sure it is Thursday," he says shaking his head with a smile. Holding up his phone for me to see the date, for the first time notice his background was an ultrasound photo.
I look back at the time. "I guess I will go get dressed then."
"What's wrong with what you're wearing?" He looks at me wearing my polka dot jumpsuit that Joy had got me.
"Unless you want to see me in my bra and potentially underwear during the scan? I should probably change," I told him giving him a look.
"Right," He says nodding his head, his neck going red.
I head up the stairs and change into my pair of jeans and a tee-shirt for the appointment. I managed to tug on a pair of socks and grab my purse from beside my bed and made sure that I had my health card.
He was waiting by the door when I can down the stairs. I run to check the backdoor making sure it was locked and grab my set of house keys so I can lock the front door on the way out.
I slide into the car, shivering at the cold as Ken turns on the heater and lets the car warm up for a good minute before he pulls out of the driveway.
"About New Years," Ken said as we hit the first stop sign.
"Oh please don't remind me," I blush to let my hair fall over my face.
"We need to talk about it," he responds. "Look I'm not mad or anything, as you said it was New Years'. I am sure that whatever hormones that are running through you right now hasn't helped," He tells me as he concentrates on the road. "But I do know you used to follow Walter and me around, and sure it was cute because you were young and all. I just don't want you to think I am whoever you have built me up to be in your head? It's one of the things mom warned me about when I talked to her about you and the baby. Does that make sense?"
I can only nod my head.
"So you do like me?" I ask him without thinking.
"Rilla, I picked you out in a crowd that night," he settles with trying to tell me without telling me. "If I told you were the prettiest thing I saw that night, purple hair and all, would make you feel weird?" He asks me. I only shake my head at him, the whole situation surpassed weird a while ago for me. "It's just complicated that's all, you're young and parts me say well, it already happened, what's the difference? Then New Years just reminded me how easy it is to forget things sometimes I forget you're only sixteen and I can't do that to you. Yet at the same time, I can't just appear waiting for you to turn a certain age because that just makes it worse in my mind. I just want us to be both sure when we make that sort of decision. This isn't just about us, we have to think what is best in the long run for her." He tells me.
"So you want to be sure that I'm not just going to wake up one morning after she is born and realize that I hate everything about you?" I ask him.
"I just want you to be sure of what you want with nothing influencing your decisions." He responded with a shake of his head. "I want to be sure that this isn't just because of the baby."
"Sounds fair enough," I say quietly. "So how does this friend's thing work?" I ask him.
"What do you mean?" he responds as he crosses the bridge that brings us into Charlottetown.
"Might come as a shock but I don't have guy friends. If I did, it was for a hot moment which was more of a watching them sweat at hockey practice, pretending I understand the game. While most of the time, we ended up making out afterwards. Even ballet boys, the ones who are straight. It's all sweet talk to see how many leotards they can get into."
"Well, it's no different from making friends with a girl. You talk, make connections of similar interests, maybe for us we try to talk about other things, then just the baby." He says.
"We should probably find a name one day for her," I tell him automatically.
"We will in time," he chuckles shaking his head and I blush, he says to not use the baby for conversation and what do I go and do? Ask about baby names!
Luckily we pulled into the hospital and Ken grabbed the folder of papers the doctor had given him previously to fill out. We walk down to the elevator and up to the maternity wing. Letting them know I was here we sat down and waited.
"So what do I need to learn about you then?" I ask him. "Who is Kenneth Wayne Ford these days? Also Wayne?"
"It was my grandfather's name, though really how can you judge me Marilla?" Ken smirks at me and I scrunch up my nose. "What do you want to know?" He asks me.
"Why did you choose history?" I ask him, trying to figure out my own life was hard enough, it made me wonder how others choose their passions.
"I like reading about things long past. There is so much knowledge that we have seemed to have forgotten about that society can benefit from," he tells me simply.
"I wish I could like history, or at the very least not struggle with dates of things. Though I struggle with most school subjects." I tell him honestly.
"You struggle with school?" He says asking his question.
I shrug. "A bit? I am good a French, I like French actually, probably since there's a lot of French in Ballet. It's just like I have the lack of will to apply myself? I get by on the bare minimum my parents want out of me most of the time when it comes to school? Oh, and math, of course, I am in the depths of despair with math." I tell him. "If I showed you my homework, you would probably laugh."
"Why would anyone laugh at someone for not understanding something?" Ken frowned.
"My math tutor did more than once," I tell him honestly. "I failed math last year, which is why I am retaking it. Though I thought it would cause my parents to have a heart attack when they saw my report card. I don't think anyone has ever failed a class in my family."
"Well, that isn't a good tutor then," Ken responds after a moment. "I can try and help you, but I'm not sure how much good I will be."
"At this point, anything will help, you can only cheat if your neighbour is good at math." I joke, letting out an awkward laugh. "And you can't really cheat when you're doing it by yourself at home."
"Rilla Blythe," I hear my name be called. I look at Ken as we both stand up and head towards the nurse who was waiting for us.
She goes through the basics with me, checking my weight and blood pressure before leaving us in the room alone together as we wait for the doctor.
"Welcome back daddy," My doctor says to Ken as she enters the room. "How were your holidays?" She asks us.
"Fine, I guess?" I tell her as Ken nods his head.
"I have the papers from last time," Ken said handing them over to her.
"Perfect," she said setting them aside. Looking over my test results quickly and typing things out.
"I told you last time that this appointment would contain the dreaded glucose test. You'll need to drink this, usually, I would allow you to go out to the park and enjoy the fresh air, but since it is winter I doubt you would enjoy that. So you can sit in the waiting room if you wish,"
I nod my head, she has me lay back on the bed as she measures my stomach over and around. Asking if I had experienced anything out of the ordinary since my day in the hospital. I shake my head.
"Your fundal measurement is above average, generally at this point, we say 24 inches for 24 weeks. You're 25," she explains to me. "Given the height of your boyfriend, we may have a bigger baby on our hands. Which unfortunately for you being petite may be harder on you than we would like. If she gets too big we may want to look into a c-section."
"Wouldn't that cut through all my stomach muscles?" I ask her with wide eyes. Completely glazing over the fact she thought Ken was my boyfriend.
"We can discuss the pro and cons later on," she tells me as she looks at my weight the nurse took when I came in.
"I also see that you gained five pounds since last month, congratulations," She says with a smile.
"Well, I can't do much other than eat and watch Netflix," I say pointing out the obvious to her. Ignoring Ken who looks to me. It was the second time my weight has been mentioned in his presence.
"Have you been keeping your journal?" She asked me. I sigh and pull it out for her. I see Ken's head tilt at the sight of my bullet journal that I pulled from my bag.
"Well, it's better than before," She tells me. "I would still like you to try to add a few more calories onto your days." She told me. "Even just a small snack before bed would make me feel better. Anything else changes or happen since last week?" She asks us.
I only shake my head. "Okay well, we will go ahead with the scan, and then I'll have you do the glucose test," she says to us. "She's been moving around?"
"Like a fish, I feel like she just somersaulted in there," I tell her as I pull up my shirt to just under my ribcage
She smiles and nods her head, moving out of the way for the ultrasound technician to make her way into the room. It only takes a moment before the heartbeat turns on suddenly. Rapid as a galloping horse and within a few seconds, the picture comes to life.
She stays silent as she watches the screen, talking to the technician here and there for photos.
They wait a few minutes before turning to us.
"Everything is looking good so far, it doesn't look like there was any placenta separation it appears normal which is what I like to see. I know you won't like that but for your own safety and your child. Dance is off the table until you're cleared to your 6-week postpartum check-up. You can continue with leisurely afternoon walks, even some prenatal yoga if you wish to, but nothing over the top or strenuous. You may go back to school and work as long as you don't overwork yourself, but whatever the reason this happened. We cannot let it repeat." She explains looking at me straight in the eye. "You need to take care of yourself for the next sixteen weeks."
"I understand," I say quietly.
"Good, I want to see another 3 or 4 pounds from you when you come in three weeks." She says before turning to Ken. "I expect you to keep an eye on her and not let her do so much."
"We don't live together," I tell her.
"Either way, it's his job to support you and help you. I suggest you go to the bathroom before the glucose test," She tells me. I roll myself off the bed, Ken holding his hands to help me stand up. I quickly go pee and come back to Ken sitting there as she looked over his sheets.
"So just your father's Lyme disease which was treated, and hepatitis from overuse of Tylenol?" She read off his paperwork. "Along with breast cancer on your mother's side of the family."
"Sounds about right?" Ken said. "That's what they said anyway," he says turning to look at me.
The doctor nodded and set aside the papers and handed me over the bottle of orange liquid. The drink was the sweetest thing I had in a long while and all I wanted to do was to gag while drinking it. I didn't even drink pop these days.
I made a face and handed it back empty which she placed on the counter and we made our way back to the small waiting area where several ladies in various stages were sitting.
"So you've been watching Buffy?" He asks as we sit back down.
"Olivia told me I should see it, it's not bad," I tell him honestly.
"Persis watched it a lot, she loves Whedon," He laughs about. "Firefly is good, short-lived but it was good."
I look at him confused. "I don't know who Whedon, or what firefly is? I lived under a rock which was ballet for most of my tween and teenage life. You saw the videos, you don't do that without practice." I remind him.
"Then why were you at that party?" He asks quietly. "From what I knew from Walter, you lived breathed ballet. You didn't do much of anything else, or so he thought anyway."
"Rena and Ellie, were seniors to my grade ten and they treated me I don't know as if I was their little pet? I was popular with them, everyone wants to be popular. Next thing Fred is telling me he thinks I'm pretty and that I should come to his hockey practice and we were dating. Next thing I was trying to balance life and dancer and failing math class miserably. Then school ended and we broke up and I went to summer intensive which I only got to go to because it was already paid for and non-refundable. When I came back, the twins were working their jobs and Walter stayed in Halifax. Shirley was here and there." I spot for a moment looking down at my boots. "Rena and Ellie were just there…so I just went with it. I wanted to be like them so followed their lead, if vodka was passed around. I drank. If someone passed me a joint I smoked it. If people jumped into the water in their birthday suit…well I did that too." I said quietly. "That night though, that was the only time I had done something like that. If anything Rena tended to keep a fairly close eye on me at parties. She didn't let guys get too close to me, while Ellie on the other hand didn't care what I did." I explained to him.
He nods his head.
"So essentially I ended up being part and subsequently ending your teenage rebellion all in one night?" He said with a wry smile.
"I think the broken condom ended my teenage rebellion," I retorted matter of factly.
"Fair enough," he said as we both turned at my name being called. "If I had known something happened, I would have warned you or suggested some sort of backup."
"I know," I say quietly as we both get up once more. "But it's not just your fault. I could have just asked to get plan B, but I didn't."
I watch nod his head as we enter the exam room once more and the doctor pricks my finger and uses the blood sugar metre to test my blood.
"Looks good, make an appointment before you leave for three weeks." She tells me. "Oh, and maybe talk to your mom about birth plans, next appointment will begin talking about what you want out of the experience. It might be good for you to have a few ideas when you come in?" She tells me.
I nod my head and Ken presses his hand to my back as we turn and leave the room. 16 weeks. I was more than halfway through at this point.
Thank you all for the lovely comments the past few weeks. I always welcome them and love hearing from you readers, so don't be shy!
Tina