March 2019
"Rilla?" Mom shakes me. "It's time for school."
"Let me sleep," I find myself croaking and suddenly I feel her hand rest on my clammy forehead.
I was so cold and sweating at the same time.
"Jesus," Mom says under her breath and goes for the thermometer I keep around for Owen and sticks it in my ear.
"When did this start?"
"I was tired and cold yesterday?" I say weakly, I feel my stomach flip around and I fumble around trying to get out of bed.
Mom grabs my wastebasket just in time as I throw up.
"I'll call Ken and see if he can take Owen for the day so you can rest," Mom tells me gently and I shake my head.
"He has things to do today that can't be put off for school and work, plus doesn't she get a good bunch of antibodies if I'm sick anyway?" Looking over to her crib, but I don't hear her, I can't even remember if I fed her this morning? Panic starts to rise in me.
"Your Father has her downstairs, she was crying before I woke you up," Mom tells me. "Rest for a little while longer. We'll watch her for today, but I'll get you some Tylenol and some Gravol for your stomach."
I barely nod my head as I shiver and pull up my blankets.
Dad stays home with me and Owen for most of the day, only leaving to get things from the drugstore for me. I text Tessa preemptively telling her that I had some sort of flu or stomach bug and wasn't sure if I would feel well enough for work the next day. She told me to feel better and keep her posted about how I was feeling.
"I wasn't even this sick pregnant," I complain as throw up for what seems like the umpteenth time. Dad was rubbing my back and holding my hair back with water ready for me.
"It will pass," Dad murmurs. "The flu's been going around something awful, just come lie down on the couch, we can watch a movie and you can sleep if you want."
"Owen needs lunch soon," I say sighing.
"So I'll feed her and then you can nurse, or pump whatever you want to do," he tells me helping me stand up. "Then you can rest for the rest of the afternoon."
"Can we watch a movie?" I ask him.
"We can do whatever you want," Dad chuckles. "Though you do need to eat some toast and drink something for me."
I make a face, mainly because the thought of food turns my stomach. Still, I nibble on the toast he made me until I curled up again on the couch covered in my blankets. My legs lying over his lap and he occasionally rubbed my leg for comfort. Owen is in her play area, constantly pulling herself up to look over the gates at me. I smile weakly at her.
"Wasn't she just a baby a few months ago?" I say out loud to which dad chuckles.
"They do tend to grow when you aren't looking," He says to me. "She's still a baby yet."
"It just feels like yesterday that she was born, and in two months it will have been a year since I went through all of that?" I say still a touch unconvinced that she was just a baby.
"Try imagining her being 33, or 17, and all the ages in-between?" Dad says slightly amused. "Every one of you should still be babies in my mind, but none of you are anymore."
"We grew too fast?" I say quietly as I reach for the lock on the gate and flip it open for her. She comes crawling over to me and pulls herself up on my couch to look at me before poking me in the face. I reach her and let her settle cuddling into my body.
"Way too fast, faster when this one was born." Dad nods his head to me.
"Soon Joy will have hers," I remind him.
"That has been a long time coming, but doesn't make me feel as old as it did with you," he says honestly. "I didn't feel old until that day when I realized even my youngest had grown up without us knowing."
"It doesn't seem fair that Joy had so many issues, and then I came along and had a baby from teenage rebellion," I say while kissing the top of Owens's head.
"Nothing in the world is fair," Dad says simply.
"It's weird sometimes, she asks all these things, questions and I'm just like yep, not a clue, that didn't happen with me. I don't know what that feels like."
"Every pregnancy is different, every one of you children made your mother feel differently," Dad relays. "You hade yours, Joy will have hers. Don't feel guilty or bad if they are different if you can't relate to her."
"What if I feel guilty for myself and Owen?" I tell him. "Joy is always so happy, glowing and happy. Most of the time I tried to pretend that I wasn't having a baby, and when I couldn't hide it, I just ignored it."
"Rilla don't beat yourself up over things like that. Experiences are different and your experiences and emotions are and were as valid as Joy's are today. You love Owen and that is all that matters in the long run." Dad shakes his head trying to get me to not think this way.
"Take her," I say suddenly, and ad reaches for Owen as I jump from the couch and race for the bathroom. Making it just in time before the toast I was forced to eat came back to haunt me.
I was still on the couch when Dad opened the door and Olivia and Miranda bounded into the room.
"Have you checked your email?" They ask excitedly.
"No?" I say shaking my head. "I've been too busy throwing up most of the day?"
"They send out admissions," Olivia tells me.
"Admissions?" I say suddenly afraid of the future.
"I thought we could do it all together?" Miranda says nodding her head.
I look at my dad who only nods his head.
"Don't stay long girls, the last thing I want is you to get sick as well," He warns them and passes me the laptop that I use for school.
"We won't," They chant to him and he picks up Owen who was trying to stand up using his leg for help.
"Do you want a snack with Papa?" He says to Owen who ends up clapping the sides of his face with her little hands with a small shriek. "I think that is a yes." He laughs and carries her out.
I open my computer and hit my email button and wait for the new emails to pop up. Olivia applied to various schools around the island, and on the mainland. Miranda applied to university, while I applied to college. Only applied to university when my parents made me because they wanted me to have options
We all look at each other before we hit that first email.
March 22nd, 2019
Miss Marilla Blythe
Congratulations
We are pleased to grant you acceptance into the Journalism and Broadcast program, a two-year program that begins in September 2019.
Acceptance is conditional upon your completion of a high school diploma and an interview with the program coordinator.
Please confirm your acceptance by May 31, to secure your spot in the program.
We will follow up with more details as the school year closes.
Holland College—
Admissions
I click on the second email, the university. I wasn't expecting much, my over marks for school were unremarkable at best.
A conditional acceptance if I took a verbal and written test in French with a passing grade of 80%, along with actual graduating high school.
And a rejection for another program I applied to know I would get rejected from.
"So?" Olivia asks.
"I got into dental assisting," Miranda says first. "I didn't get into nursing this year but I figured I would have to take applied sciences or something before I got in."
"I got into Biotechnology at UPEI," Olivia said excitedly. "Now just have to figure out how to pay for it," she said laughing.
I frown at my computer screen. I didn't even want to do my school next year, yet I had the funds available to do so easily. Meanwhile, Olivia would be graduating with students loans, upon loans.
"What about you?" Olivia asks looking my way.
"I got into Holland, and maybe UPEI if I pass their required knowledge test?" I tell them. "But it's also not a full program," I say with a shrug, and curl into my blanket.
"Do you think we'll still be friends once we graduated?" Miranda asks breaking the silence.
"Why wouldn't we?" I ask her.
"Because we're all doing different things, and we won't have school to connect us anymore," Miranda explains.
"I'll always be around," Olivia says shaking her head. "For both of you, anytime, day or night, even if I have a guy over in my bed."
"Don't be so crude," Miranda makes a face.
"Yeah well, I'm not the one who actually called me in the middle of getting it on," Olivia reminds her. "I will never un-hear such things."
"Oh come on, did you and Robbie keep track and count the times you did the deed and got a cake one time when you hit a certain milestone?" Miranda objects.
"Yet I am the one with a baby after only having sex less than ten times in my life," I remind them as I feel my stomach flip once more and I race towards the bathroom.
"I hate to be the party pooper, but it might be best to let Rilla rest," Dad says to my friends, partly apologizing in the process.
"Of course, feel better," They tell me before leaving through the door. I take Owen from my dad hoping to get Owen to nurse a bit. I put her down to play when she finishes and lie back down on the couch.
I must have dozed off because when I opened my eyes to see Ken looking down at me.
"What are you doing here?" I ask weakly trying to sit up, but he motions for me not to.
"Well, it is 5 pm, and I was gonna take Owen for a walk around the block to see her for a few minute?" Ken says somewhat amused.
"I must have fallen back asleep," I mumble forcing myself up. Not realizing my loose tank top I had been wearing earlier wasn't on my body
"Umm, you might want your shirt?" Ken says awkwardly. I look down at my nursing bra and sigh. I look around and motion for it that as behind him on a chair.
"Sorry, I was nursing earlier," I tell him and I pull it on and reach for my Gatorade that dad had left for me on the table. Taking a small drink of it and I look at him.
"Of course," He nods his head. "Well, I should head out for that walk, you can rest a bit more. I can stay and help with bedtime as well if you want."
"Don't you usually?" I ask hesitantly knowing he used to spend his Friday nights with his girlfriend.
"We ended things," he says casually getting up from the couch. "I think I just want to focus on Owen for the next little bit?"
I only nod my head, unsure of what to say to him.
"Well have fun on your walk," I say getting up, swaying slightly as I do.
"Whoa there," Ken steadies me. "When was the last time you ate something?"
I can hear dad's footsteps coming to the living room. "It's been touch and go with most food today Ken," he answers for me. "Drink," he hands me a bottle of ginger ale.
I don't even fight him on it as I take a small sip, making sure I can tolerate it before I take a bigger drink of it.
"Take your walk with Owen, I will get her something to eat and into bed," Dad tells Ken who looks at me before nodding.
I let dad feed me another piece of toast and half of a banana along with another dose of Tylenol. To try and help bring my fever back down that was starting to rise once again. I look at the stairs, exhausted at the sight of them.
"Come on I got you," Dad says as he helps me up the stairs. His hand is on my waist as he makes sure I get up the stairs.
He settles me into bed once more as Mom reappears.
"How are you feeling?" Mom asks when she comes back from school.
"Like death," I say my voice still hoarse from my last round of vomiting.
"It's been going around, a bunch of kids were excused from school, and a few called home to be picked up, so it's not just you," Mom tells me as she straightens my chair of Owens clothing as if she wants to bring up something else.
"I'll tell you if I feel better tomorrow all right?" I tell her as I try to decide if I wanted to be sick again.
"Of course," Mom nods her head and kisses my forehead. "I'll bring you some soup in a little bit. Just try and rest," she tells me before leaving my room.
"Do you think I can have a bath in a little bit?" I ask her.
"Of course," Mom says nodding her head. "It might help bring down this fever."
I nod-off closing my eyes, not paying attention to the time that was passing.
I leave Owen with Ken for bath time and at some random moment, he decides to stay for the night. To help me, I hear him tell my parents and give them a break as well, he just needs to check on Jack. He is always welcome, so there are no complaints and if he wants to grab Jack and bring him over he's more than welcome to. I pump enough to make a night bottle in case she wakes up before she went to bed.
"Sleep tight," I say softly to Owen at her make-shift bed in the spare room as she sleeps before going to have a bath of my own. Lukewarm, almost cool feeling but it made me feel better slightly as I washed off the sweat that coated my skin in places.
Mom checks in on me once or twice before she helps me wash and detangle my hair for me. My legs pulled up to my chest, keeping me covered as I sit in the cool water. My pale freckled skin flushed from my fever. I almost fall asleep as she works the comb through my curls and conditioner until it's detangled. She used the showerhead to rinse it out for me before she rubs my back for a few minutes with a washcloth. The way she traces down my back, counting the vertebrae on my spine tells me exactly what she thinks.
"You still have your birthmark," she murmurs to herself tracing the small tan patch of skin I had on my back.
"The doctor still checks it occasionally," I tell her. It's not something generally seen so even I forget that it's there occasionally.
She holds the towel shielding me from view when I stand up slowly and wrap the towel. She leaves me alone to pull on my pyjamas and brush my teeth once more.
She is in my room, waiting for me as she holds the hairbrush in her hand pats the spot on my bed beside her and braids my hair for me.
"I got into Holland," I tell her finally quietly. "Well, as long as they graduate and some interview thing?"
"What about UPEI?" Mom asks curiously as she brushes my hair.
"They want a written and spoken knowledge test before they make up their mind," I tell her as sent down my braid and I crawl into my blankets still sitting up.
While dad brings me a cup of ginger tea sweetened with their honey and they both tuck me into bed.
My night with filled with fevered dreams and sweating through my pyjamas more than once. I am fairly sure that my parents had come to check on me more than once in the night. Leading me back to my bed more than once it felt like in my half-sleep state.
"I love you," I say to myself in my fevered state. "I wish you could know how much I love you."
Soon I am lulled away by the sounds of Owens little snores and sounds she makes when she sleeps.
When I wake up I feel slightly better? My fever must have broken finally as I try to judge my body now conscious of it? Then I feel it and I instantly freeze because when I open my eyes and don't see my room and I am starring at Ken who was awaking as well.
"You were sleepwalking and I gave up trying to get you to go back to bed," he says his voice laced with morning huskiness.
"I will just umm get out of your way," I say awkwardly. "Sorry if I ruined your night."
"You didn't," Ken tries to tell me looking over to Owen who was beginning to make her morning wake-up noises.
"I should go feed her," I tell him, blushing slightly.
Ken merely nods, but neither of us moves. Jack looks up at us from his spot on the floor.
"Oh dear god, do I have to start worrying about you two again?" I hear Shirley's voice from the hallway.
"No, you don't have to worry about anything, we were just talking for a moment before Owen woke up," I tell my brother. Trying to make it seem less than what the whole scene was. "Plus I was sick all night. I don't know about you, but I don't think anyone wants to get any action if someone is on the verge of throwing up." I kick my legs off the bed, after rolling a bit. My head swims, probably because I haven't eaten much in 24 hours, maybe more.
Ken reaches out to steady me and I wait a moment before I gather Owen in her make-shift bed in the spare room.
"I come upstairs and find both of you in your bloody underwear and you tell me not to be worried?" Shirley says eyes narrowing. "God both of you are exhausting you know that right?"
I want to snap at him. I want to tell him to try living a day in either of our shoes before making assumptions. I don't though, mostly since my chest is aching and I just want to nurse.
"Trust me, Shirl, you have nothing to worry about us, at all. We're co-parents and good friends. If you want to be technical he may be one of my best friends when I don't feel like clobbering him on the side of his head."
Shirley gives us a look as if he wants to point out that best friends fall for each other all the time in fiction and movies.
I watch him leave and look back to Ken and who was running a hand through his hair.
"So I'm your best friend again?" he asks with a crooked smirk.
"I just said that to get him off my back," I say haughtily.
Ken merely nods and crawls out of the bed stretching and cracking his back.
I find breakfast being made when I come down the stairs with Owen on my hip. She's satisfied or now which means I eat my small bowl of oatmeal and berries as she plays on the floor. I'm not entirely sure if I can stomach anything this morning yet but I try anyway. Ken finishes first so he puts Owen in her high chair as soon as he finishes he feeds her some eggs and toast fingers and some cut-up fruit. We simply take our time enjoying our daughter, and I constantly judge my own stomach to see if I am going to begin throwing up again. While Ken was drinking coffee when his phone rang. "It's a Toronto number," he says picking it up and then leaving the room for quiet and privacy out on the back porch.
Ken sighs and sits down across me on the couch where gone after cleaning up Owens mess. Already getting tired again since I still wasn't quite up to par.
"Everything all right?" I ask him
"Yeah, I just got a call, or my dad got a call and told them how to reach me." He says in some sort of daze. "Then I called Dad about it and it just taking a bit to wrap my head around." He tells me.
"What was it about?" I ask him, curiosity peaked.
"They are working on some sort of reunion show for one of the shows that I worked on as a kid, and they want me to come to be a part of it. It might be a tidy little paycheque, which will help in the long run."
"Okay, what's the problem?"
"Well I'd have to go to Toronto sometime soon for some press thing, and if we do a mini-movie or show. I might have to be in Toronto for a few weeks during filming maybe even up to two months which is a long time?" Ken explains.
"Oh?" I say unsure of what to say.
"Yeah," Ken says sighing.
"Do you want to do it?" I ask him.
"I can't just leave for weeks on end," he says. "That isn't fair to you."
"Do you want to do it though? Beyond the possibility of some money?" I shake my head.
"It might be interesting? I don't know Rilla, I never thought about acting again, but it's a job and they were cool kids back then and it be nice to see them again?" Ken says staring up at our ceiling.
"Then do it," I tell him. "I can manage alone, we can always face time and she is young enough that it should disrupt her life all that much." I try to tell him the positive side of things. "You would tell me the same thing if things were switched around wouldn't you?"
"In a heartbeat," Ken says nodding his head. "If you ever had a chance to get off this Island and follow a dream of yours. We would make it work for everyone involved."
"Then say yes," I tell him. "Do it."