Fluttering Fresnels Playlist
Cruel Summer- Taylor Swift
Night Changes-One Direction
Love me Like you do- Ellie Goulding
Shape of You-Ed Sheeran
When it all falls apart-The Veronicas
Shoulda Been Simple-Marie Digby
Style-Taylor Swift
Perfect-Marianas Trench
When the Love Fall, Wait There, and Kiss the Rain by Yiruma.
23- Jimmy Eats World
Small Bump- Ed Sheeran
She Hasn't always been this way- Doc Walker
Rhythm of your Heart- Marianas Trench
March
33 weeks
The weather is changing and warming up when we decide to get out of the house one evening. I watch the road as Ken drives us out of the coastline and we sit on the shore, near the lighthouse. We walk around the shoreline, Ken helping me down the side of old wooden steps down the side of the cliff. It was the first time we got out of town in the past few days. I had worked the night previous, and Tuesday was just awkward.
I breathe in the salty ocean smell, thinking how much has changed since we had been both out this way. I mean I was living with him at the moment, dad texted daily making sure I was all right. A part of me was almost relieved to not be at home in a way. It could possibly be all in my head but sometimes it did feel like there was a dark cloud that sat over the house when I was there.
"So how was work?" I ask him, looking out to the ocean, I was dressed in a pair of leggings and a large sweater as we walked.
"All right I suppose, mostly research and reading, exploring the archives to figure out what there is and whatnot," He answers me. "Talked to HR at the university as well, benefits will be kicked in as well by the time she is born."
"So what exactly do you do?" I ask still not entirely understanding his job or even educational background.
"I'm a glorified tour guide who spends times explaining the museum to patrons as well as helping clean and preserve the exhibits that we have." Ken chuckled. "I get to tell people that this tea set was gifted by the family of the famous author who wrote numerous books set on the island," he explains. "How was school?"
"Fine, I guess," I tell him. "Same as usual, had a meeting with the guidance counsellor to go over the rest of the year. She suggested as French is my best subject that maybe next year depending on how things go that I look to take more French language classes or classes in french than English."
"Have you ever thought of studying it after you graduate? Teach French or in general, knowing the language itself is an asset?" He asked me curiously.
"I suppose it's an option," I say simply. "I don't want to be a teacher though."
Ken nods his nod, we sit down on an abandoned log looking out to the ocean.
"I'm sorry," I blurt out.
"What are you sorry for?" He turned to look at me.
"For making you give up some Toronto Museum?" I say, posed more as a question even though it really wasn't.
"I am here because I want to be here, so don't beat yourself up over it," Ken says. "Who knows what the next few years can hold for both of us anyway."
"I know, it just," I trail off. "Well, you came home from a once and lifetime trip to have your life turned upside down all because of me?"
"Your life hasn't turned upside down?" Ken asks me trying to prove a point.
"You gave up jobs in museums that you dreamed about," I tell him with a look.
I watch him for a moment as if Ken reminds me. "I think we both have made sacrifices for this little girl."
I frown and sigh and lean back and feel the baby squirm about and give a few kicks hard enough that you could see it through my shirt.
I see him watching my stomach as I rub it absentmindedly. I take his hand and lay it down, pressing slightly until he was greeted with a kick.
"You don't have to ask," I remind him.
"I just don't want to overstep," Ken replies, but his hand remains as he feels his child move.
"I think we passed that months ago," I tell him with a sigh. "Do you think we'll be good parents?" I ask him curiously.
"I think we'll try out best," he answered quietly. We still hadn't addressed the evening that landed up in this situation. Our fight that led to this I mean. "If we both actively try anyway," he adds one.
I nod my head. "I was just trying to calm myself, I wasn't doing anything dangerous. I just needed to let go for a moment." I try to explain myself.
"Why did you need to calm down?" He asked after a moment.
I shrug my shoulders and sigh. "I didn't even really want a baby shower because I didn't want the thinly veiled sympathy," I tell him. "I overheard some of Mom's old high school friends talking about it and it just, I don't know it hurt me more than I thought it would. I can deal with strangers and classmates, I can deal with anything they say about me, but hearing it from them just talk about me. It hurt, they were all going on about proud they were to have had a daughter who didn't get knocked up," I explain.
"Why didn't you say something to someone,"
"You didn't give me a chance too," I point out to him and he sighs, his head hanging.
"I didn't mean—," he starts and I shake my head cutting him off.
"Yes, you did, and you were right," I tell him I say quietly. "But it's not on purpose, I would never hurt her on purpose and I'm doing my best truly I am," I stress to him. I want to tell him that he doesn't even know half of what I put my body through, or done to it, but I'm barely ready to admit that to myself, let alone him.
"Still it was wrong of me to say such things, or suggest that things would have been easier or better if you did choose Halifax."
"I still should have told you about the change," I remind him. "Which is the main reason why I'm currently sleeping in your bed. Your father heard what I did and saw red, and mom wasn't happy with me either. I mean he's not wrong, is he? If this happened now and they just let it go?"
"That we could potentially ruin our daughter's life by not learning from this?" Ken told me as he grasped my hand in his squeezing it gently and I take it back, watching him frown.
"If you keep looking and holding my hand like that, I will probably try and kiss you right now," I tell him letting out a strangled breath.
"Right, sorry," Ken says with his ears turning red.
"Hormones are brutal," I say awkwardly. "Did you get the last email from him?" I asked about his father's email that was sent to us.
"You know sometimes I wish he would just leave it alone," Ken sighs.
"Your father's concern is only from experience isn't he?" I find myself asking. "Considering how much he fought to see Thea? He just doesn't want to see you be in his position, and while I think he realizes that this is me and I'm not her. He worries."
Apart from a voice in the back of my mind, told me that I needed the agreement too. I never wanted to wake up and find that he disappeared from the pressure. The agreement was as much for me as it was for him at the end of the day.
The only thing I was still rather uncomfortable with was the thought of taking his money but our parents made sure that it was set in place. It was for the child, for all the things they need. Something I am reminded of when I try to buy something for myself from my small amount of spending money that isn't put into my savings account. Which wasn't a lot from working part-time at a dance studio; while Ken was working finally. Neither of our lives was glamorous but only MTV could make teen pregnancy look glamorous.
"We should probably get some groceries for tomorrow," Ken says as he looks at his phone as we walk to his car.
"Right, groceries," I say nodding my head. I was used to making my own breakfast and lunches, but having to cook dinner was something new for me, or seeing a fairly bare refrigerator was another. "I don't remember that last time I actually was in a grocery store."
"Seriously?" Ken looks at me as if I have two heads.
"Either mom or dad shopped, and when we were young Jem often watched us, or Walter," I explain. "You don't take a handful of children to the grocery store. Then if you take one and not the other, suddenly you're the favourite and that makes other kids jealous. So we all just stayed home," I explain to him.
"I'm going to need some help," I tell him at the edge of the pathway up the hill. Ken chuckles and holds out his hands to me as we go slowly up the hill. I was out of breath by the time we reached the top and it wasn't a lovely feeling.
Ken waited patiently as I caught my breath as someone pushed herself into my lungs that first chance she got.
"I am so over this," I wheeze, as I finally haul myself into his car. We head out to the grocery store, but at least it's a moment of rest before I have to walk around the store.
By the time we get to the store and Ken fishes a loonie from his pocket for a cart. Feel slightly better, but still out of energy. Though the thought of vegetables cheers me up a bit until I take note of all the prices.
"Is food always this expensive?" I ask him as I glance at prices. If I was better at math I would mentally add things up, but even that seemed like too much at the moment.
"Pretty much," Ken said shaking his head with a small smile on his face as we head over to the bakery area. He grabs a package of bagels for himself, while I look at a loaf of rye bread before deciding to get the light rye for us.
We move onto the dairy aisle where grabs more cheese as I look at yogurt, trying to find one that was high enough in protein, low fat and not crazy expensive. I settle on one that seems decent enough.
"Do you like yogurt?" I ask him wondering just how much I should buy.
"Do I like fermented milk?" He replies. "No, I do not," he says with a shake of his head. I shake my own and grab the large container that was naturally sweetened with honey.
"Your okay if I buy some meat?" He asks me looking across the way. "I know you eat chicken sometimes?"
"I have no qualms with people eating meats, I just don't like cooking it or eating it often, except for chicken," I tell him.
"Well, that's good. Persis went vegetarian once and refused to even to be around when mom bought anything meat-wise." Ken says grabbing a pack of chicken.
"I just don't really like it," I tell him honestly as I pick up a carton of eggs from the cooler. We both eat eggs for breakfast or oatmeal most days. Of course like every other young male out there was a stop at the frozen pizza section and the cereal aisle. Where I watched him pick out kid's cereal with a shake of my head.
We check out, scanning things as we laugh over silly things. I fish out my wallet as the total goes higher and higher. I hand him whatever bills I could find which ended up being a little less than half of the total.
"If this was 120$," I start thinking about my own family growing up. "How in the world did my parents feed seven of us kids, plus themselves?" I say out loud.
"Costco?" Ken says as he uses his debit to finish paying after feeding the machine my bills.
"I think mom would spend close to 500$ a week on food when the majority of us were home," I say honestly.
"I could believe that," Ken agrees as he takes the bags and puts them into the cart. "I'm sure they had their ways."
I nod my head as I see some old lady watch us in the corner of my eye. I shrink slightly as I move closer to him. Ken looks at me strangely but looks over to the lady.
"Come on let's go," he says to me, letting his arm fall around my waist protectively, giving me a look as he felt it go hard underneath his fingertips.
"It's fine, just too much walking today," I tell him and we head out to his car and drove back to his place.
"I'll unpack, go sit down, rest," Ken tells me when we reach his place. "Have a bath if you want, but maybe next time we stick to something easier? Fewer hills considering you're supposed to be taking it easy?"
"If she would stay out of my ribs and not push on my lungs it wouldn't be as awful," I tell him as I head towards the bedroom.
With each day I wake up at Ken's is always a bizarre moment, but routine quickly kicks in. I get up and go pee and brush my teeth, while Ken makes his morning cup of coffee as I start on breakfast as he quickly showers and dresses in the bedroom for work. We eat breakfast, then I put on some make-up and do my hair before donning my school uniform.
He lives closer to the high school than my parent's house, so I walk in the morning as he drives to work. I avoid my mother at all costs still too annoyed and bitter with her. She texts me at least once a day asking how I was to which I ignore until Dad pops up to which I reply promptly. I know it must drive her insane which is partly why I do it.
By the end of the day, I am ready for a nap, which sometimes happens in the middle of class much to my teacher's dismay. It wasn't until Olivia and I stop by the small coffee shop for a caffeine fix that I perk up slightly or a lot depending on the day.
Today it hit me hard as I wiggling about in the kitchen making a fake dance up to a Marianas Trench song. Though it wasn't really dancing, it was the stuff kids did at school dances. Olivia was laughing her head off at the table. Mostly it looked hilarious as I was trying to roll my body which was eight months pregnant.
We were still laughing as Ken came home as I tried another body roll. I see him raise an eyebrow at me and shake his head. He knows fairly well by now that Olivia loves a good laugh. They have seen enough of each other to get a good grasp on the other, and when I asked if he minded if she came over to study he told me he didn't mind.
"How long has she been like this?" He asks her.
Olivia smiles and shrugs. "Apparently they gave her the wrong order or her small iced coffee she is allowed made her hyper."
Ken shook his head, loosening his collar on the shirt that he wore to work. "I thought you were studying?" He asks a tad sharply.
I see Olivia look at me from behind him with a small frown at his sharpness.
"We were," I say frowning taking in his mood that wasn't exactly happy at the mood.
"Actually I should probably get going," Olivia pipes up looking at the clock on the wall, she's been here two hours already. "We got what we needed to be done." She says as Ken tries to tell her that she doesn't need to leave. She slips on her shoes and grabs her jacket and bag.
"See you tomorrow Rills," She said. "Nice to see you, Ken." She said before leaving his tiny apartment.
"See you," I say sighing standing there awkwardly. I did ask if she could come over and study, though he was later than usual today.
"I am going to change," Ken tells me and I nod my head, as he was walking away I hear my phone buzz.
So I hear you at Ford's? I can hear Walter's voice as I read his text.
I am, I text back
Well, forewarning, he can be a moody mother-fucker when he's hungry…god damn it, I need to find a new insulting nickname for him.
Really Walter? I roll my eyes at the message and soon enough my phone was ringing. I hit accept and wait for him to appear.
"Well, son of a bitch is an insult to his mother. Leslie is lovely, but you know that," Walter tells me. "I mean I could call him Snickers because he gets moody when he's hungry."
"Do you really need an insulting name? " I glare at him through the camera. God, I look horrible right now with a lack of make-up and pimples popping up on my face, that looked extra oily today. Pregnancy glow? My ass.
"He used to call me fancy pants," Walter replied with a shrug.
"You wear fancy pants," I give him a look. "Seriously just makeup already?"
"Yeah probably not," Walter says, "But seriously that man gets hangry."
"You think I don't know that?" I give my brother another look and turn the camera around. "Look I helping make dinner right now," I say showing off the knife and the row of vegetables.
"Your cooking?" Walter says slightly shocked.
"It's just quinoa salad, and there was some leftover chicken from the other night so we can have that for a protein."
"Okay, but why are you cooking for him?" Walter clarifies his question.
"Because it's the nice thing to do?" I say with a puzzled look. "Considering this experience is supposed to teach me to be an adult and not just rely on everyone—," I trail off.
"Really, I thought it was because you had a massive fight and you went hormonal and kicked him out of an appointment?" Walter grinned teasing me.
"Really?" I glare at him.
"So where is everyone sleeping? That apartment doesn't look that big?" Walter asks and I blush hiding my face.
"Does it matter?" I respond to him.
"Of course it does," Walter exclaims. "You're my baby sister, you may have had sex, but that doesn't mean you need to have more of it!"
"Seriously Walter, you're acting worse than Jem right now," I tell him. "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say it at all or I'll hang up," I warn him and he huffs.
"How's my niece doing?" He asked instead.
"She's doing well, it would be nice if she would stop kicking my ribs but can't really help that," I tell him. "But seven weeks to go."
"Any names yet?"
"We like Ivy right now, but at the end of the days we don't know, we got back and forth on names," I tell him. "I'm sure it will come to us when she's born, no point in worrying about until we see her. Mom says sometimes they just look like a name, which is why Nan has brown hair, and Di has red hair. Apparently, they were supposed to be the other way around." I tell him,
"Makes sense," Walter says humming to himself, turning to the sound of his name being called. "I'll let you go, Rye says dinner is ready."
I nod my head and bid him goodbye as Ken comes back out in a pair of grey sweats and a tee shirt. He looks at the bowl of Quinoa salad I had prepared, and the small bowl of cut-up chicken for it.
"That song it was out last summer it was blasting at the party?" He asks me breaking the silence that was between us.
"Probably?" I say barely thinking about it. "Why?"
"I think I just remember part of the night," he said after another moment. "I can remember hearing it and it brought back a memory or two."
"What do you mean?" I ask him, my voice catching.
"I don't think," he starts. "I don't think we used any protection that night."
"But you said?" I said, gripping the counter because I suddenly felt faint. Ken watches me before he took our dinner and waited until I sat down to hand me it and ate a bite before he continued.
"I don't know, but I just had something flash in my mind when I heard that song and it was us. I just have a feeling that I was wrong about the wrapper I found. I used that duffle bag during school," He tries to explain to me. "Sure there was an open box of condoms in there, but I don't think. We were all over each other I was looking for something at some point, though from the things tossed around?" He said with a sigh, running his hand through his hair.
I try to make sense of that night. Flashes fill my head, images and feelings that are locked away bounce around. I can feel him kissing my shoulder in the dark, I can feel him, all of him against me. I stay silent, not sure what to say or do. I mean it could be an honest mistake, a mistake that changed our lives, but still a mistake.
"And if she asks one day what happened between us?" He asks.
"Then we just tell her the truth, we don't know what happened, but she's here and we love her anyway?" I cradle my arms around her growing in my stomach.
"What do you remember?" Ken asks me after a moment.
I hum and let myself go back to that night, all the foggy memories that were broken fragments.
"I can only remember bits and pieces, a few moments here and there. I mostly remember feeling good?" I say blushing. "You went outside for a moment afterwards I thought maybe it was you trying to clean up?" I tell him which makes him blush. "What do you remember?"
"Probably about the same as you, though I don't know if I went outside straight afterwards. I think maybe I got up to take a piss once?" Ken replies after a long pause. "What if….the first time we managed to be safe, but if you remember me waking up, meaning you were up and I came back…"
Things suddenly click in my mind a touch more we both look at each other, realizing what had happened. Half asleep, still drunk….that time we didn't think. It made sense how sometimes different memories felt different than the others.
I can just hear Nan's question about the effects of alcohol. "Apparently you defy the effects of alcohol about rising to the occasion," I say wryly, which makes Ken choke on his tea.
"Rilla!"
"Oh lighten up, I can make a sex joke, we had sex. We are having a baby. I can make a joke without shocking you," I give him a look.
We were both quiet for the rest of the night, trying to both make sense of what we concluded. We washed our dishes listening to a random playlist and afterwards Ken read one of his history books, and I went to lay down to count the evening's kicks.
One, two, three I count in my head as I lay on the bed in Ken's bedroom. Trying to remember when Friday night meant going out or sneaking out to go do things. She seemed to read my mind for something exciting as my stomach came alive with movements that even I was amazed by it.
"Ken Come see this!" I call out to him, it takes him a moment but soon enough his head pokes into the room.
"Come here," I motioned for him, ignoring how uncomfortable he looks when he realizes that I was just in a bralette and a pair of leggings. The whole expanse of my stomach was out in the open.
"Everything all right?" He asked coming closer sitting on the edge of the bed.
"Just watch," I say as I poke my stomach. Within a moment there was a large movement that rippled under my skin that didn't seem to end. At some point, I swear I saw a small foot or hand jut out under my stretched skin. I watch him lie down as she seemed to move on her own accord, playing around, stretching and distorting the shape of my belly with each movement. It looked like a creature wanting to escape, and she would soon enough.
"You do this every night?" Ken comments.
"You're supposed to count their movement a few times a day," I explain.
"I read about that," Ken says yawning.
"It's mostly an excuse to relax," I tell him, coping his yawn. "She's always like this at night, it's like she already trying to rob me of my sleep."
Ken smiles wryly and for once not truly asking for permission, shimmies down on the bed and knocks lightly in a spot.
"It's bedtime, why don't you settle down so your mother can get some sleep?" He says to my stomach, so close to which I can feel his breath on it. With that he is rewarded with is another series of kicks and movements. Meaning she won't settle down, but we watch anyway until sleep claims both of us. When I wake up some hours later to go pee, I see Ken sleeping beside me. Then I crawl back into the bed and pull the blanket over us and settle into my fort of pillows. His hand grazes mine just enough that they touch in his sleep.