A/N- Long chapter. Insight to more of Marleene's issue with little Eli…and a dirty secret!
I still think 'Day 74' is going to be a couple parts long…not sure.
CHAPTER 48
Day 74: Part 3
Wiping away her tears, Phil's girlfriend stands up, smoothes her dress and sends me a warning stare, "Phil, I'm taking off for the day.", she states simply
Phil leans against the doorframe and thinks on it for a second or two before responding, "Um…okay, I guess. Have a nice trip to wherever, Ria."
Pretending to be her usual cheery self, Maria smiles, walks over to him, and plants a lingering kiss on his cheek, "I'll see you.", she almost inconspicuously winces when he doesn't turn for a real kiss. She turns to me and says the same, "I'm leaving you guys in charge of the doll. If anything just call me up.", with that she heads on out to the living room, out the front door, and to her rental car. The engine revs and she's off…off to find her lover.
Now, figuring that I'll be alone with Phil, Eli, and myself—Micks doesn't count—I'm moderately nervous about how the day'll play out…it is, after all, just 2 in the afternoon.
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Silently picking at my pancakes, I pray that Eli will stay asleep…for the rest of the day. I still shake every damn time she starts to wail. Knowing how babies are, I highly doubt she'll even stay down long enough to finish my first meal of the day.
Downing the rest of his nasty ass Pepsi, Phillip reads one of his plentiful comics. I bet if I try to snatch it away…he'd bite my hand off, he's so into it. A flip of a page later, "I'm taking you girlies out today.", he says still looking at the comic book
My food barely makes it down my esophagus. No way in hell am I leaving the house, I've barely left my own room! The thought of going out makes me itch. I haven't set a foot out the door since Colt's leave. I guess I'm scared that by going out, Noah will come after me or find me. That or the fact that everywhere I'll go…I'll be reminded of Wesley. "No.", I whisper, thinking about these things make the house feel cold. I hug myself.
Still staring at the stupid comic, "Well, it's a damn good thing that this isn't a democratic decision."
"I can't."
Phil sneaks a peek at me and then his full attention is on me, "Why's that?"
Rubbing my arms, "I'm scared…don't you dare laugh."
He takes a second to notice how dead serious I am, "Okay…but why?"
It's taking me all my strength to not just fly back to my room. My feelings and thoughts are something I don't like to talk about much these days, "Noah…and I-I don't wanna go out and just be reminded that Wes ain't here anymore."
This silences the whole house. I continue to eat while Phil drifts off in deep thought. My attention returns to my food and then…a loud wail sounds through the house like an alarm which makes me drop my fork abruptly.
Blinking, Punk observes me, "Kid isn't gonna eat your face off, doll.", he says with a mini smirk but it quickly shapes into a gentle smile when he sees that I'm still tense. Phil comes around my side and extends a hand, I look at it, "C'mon, you'll be accompanied by a brave gentleman into the deep dark depths of the baby's room."
Not that long ago, you were fine with the kid…what's this? Internally shaking myself off, I roll my eyes at Punk but take his hand. As we make our way out the door, he snatches up a plate of food for his beloved sister. Another long wail from a desperate baby and we get on moving.
Upon arriving in front of Dominick-now-Eli's room, Phil hesitantly releases my hand and instructs me to tend to the baby while he checks up on his sister. Reluctantly I enter the room where Eli has been crying for a couple of minutes. Taking a minute to take in my new surroundings, it feels like I've never been in this room before. Not that it has been transformed into a new room but some noticeable changes have been made. Changes like: the stuffed animals on one side of the room, baby-style chest, socks and bibs strewn all over, a pile of baby blankets, and the like. A type of longing rips through me by just seeing all these baby things. You've always wanted one—don't even lie…
Eli, her cries for attention unnerve me a tad bit; loud noises in general do. Creeping around to the bed where she lays, I sit down just close enough to be able to reach for her. Already I am having second thoughts on whether or not I should grab her. Her cries escalate by the second, making me all the more flustered, scratching my scalp, and with shaky hands I reach for her.
Being that I have yet to hold her, it's quite a milestone for me. Slowly rising from the bed, I cradle her in my arms slowly rocking her just like I did her older brother once-upon-a-time. Subsiding are her cries which become soft whimpers and then just a curious stare. In all the years I've grown to adore everything about Wesley Efrain Mendes, never have or rather HAD recognized just how shiny, how lively, vibrant his eyes were until…I saw his very own daughter's. As I gaze into Eli's little eyes I see Wes's reflection which was enough to make me stop trembling and feel some sort of warmth in my heart. A tiny, fragile hand extends toward one of my now-dry curls and I smile.
"He-hey babygirl…", I begin clearing my dry throat. Eli blinks, "you may not remember but I'm your aunt, Marleene.", another blink from the tiny human in my arms, "Yeah…you don't remember. I'm so-sorry, love…", slowly I descend to the floor, sitting Indian-style, "I got so wrapped up, baby. Wi-with your daddy passing…I-I don't know. Felt like if I saw you…I'd lose whatever is left of me. I-I'm sorry, love.", tears blur up my vision. Eli coos and mumbles as if trying to stop them from falling, this warms my heart, "Hope you can forgive me. Seeing you, now, makes me feel a bit better. Just wish your daddy could be here…", closing my eyes trying to avoid any more thoughts of Wes, "You really as obsessively cute as Maria makes you to be.", Maria… "You like her, Eli? She's such a nice woman…I'm kinda jealous of her being so nice…", that all she is? She practically gave her boyfriend to you… "Nice and so da—friggin' beautiful.", looking around the room I spot a picture of Eli's older brother who I haven't seen in the longest. Getting up, I gently place her down on the bed and bring back the picture and show her it, "You probably haven't met him…but this is your big bro, Dominick.", the baby attempts to reach for it.
Vibration in my robes pockets momentarily distracts me. Checking, I find that it's the one and only Dave Batista. How'd he—RANDY… Flipping my phone open, I read a simple text message: Has bby woken up yet?-Maria
With a raised eyebrow I quickly reply: Yes. We bonding. Dnt wry, txt you if n-e-thing.
Silencing my phone I return my full undivided attention to Micks's and Wes's lovechild. Seeing that she isn't going to be snoozing anytime soon, I drag over one of her stuffed animals, a lion plushy. Something about it catches my eye. I gingerly pet it and then remember why exactly. Some things are supposed to stay in the past!
Shutting my eyes tightly I will myself not to have a flashback, one that I don't need much less want at the moment. My hand clenches around the stuffed animal, Eli's coos zone out, and I'm back in that time…fuck me, why?
*flashback*
(June '99)
Sucking in my excessive fat, I try to button my shorts…to no avail. Frustrated and breaking a sweat, I give up on the damned shorts…might as well go out in my undies! Sitting down I begin to regret ever going on those muchies binges with Mike.
Footsteps creak against the old stairway and I quickly attempt to button the damned shorts again. Uncle Vidal appears in the doorway, "Marley, te tardas un chingo…Your boyfriend or whatever te esta esperando!"
Rolling my eyes at the fact that he considers Mike my "boyfriend", I ignore him and continue to force the button and I succeeded. With a "whew", I sit down to put on my socks and then my shorts burst open and off goes the button flying all over the room, "HEADS UP, TIO!", I shriek covering my head.
When the coast is clear, Uncle V stomps over to one of my drawers and pulls out one of my least favorite shorts. He throws them my way, "Here. Now hurry.", he says not leaving any room for an argument.
Grimacing at the khaki shorts with an elastic waistband, I huff out a breath and put them on. Looking at my reflection, I take hold of just how fat I've gotten. My cheeks, thighs, and stomach have gained some weight. This does nothing to help my self-confidence whatsoever. Touching up my makeup, I remove myself from the mirror and grab my socks and Doc Martens and head downstairs.
"…It's okay muchacho, it's okay…", says Uncle Vidal patting a sniffling Mike's back.
"Tio, is he REALLY crying because of Mufasa dying?", asks my youngest sister Caro
"YES! NO SE RIA, MUCHACHA!", booms my uncle, wiping at his eyes
Confusedly, I stroll over to what exactly is up. Standing behind the couch where my "friend", Mike, is sitting, I see that they are watching "The Lion King". Looking from my teary-eyed uncle to a sniffling Mike to my brooding sister, I roll my eyes, "Aren't you two…", meaning Uncle and Mike, "too old for this movie?"
"NEVER TOO OLD FOR DISNEY!", declares Mike
"I agree!", adds Uncle
Lifting up my feet, I put on both my socks. Doing this tires me out. Going over to sit next to Mike, I start putting on my Doc Martens, "You think you can lace 'em up, crybaby?"
Mike turns to me and nods. I notice his eyes are red, not just from being teary-eyed, and shake my head at his audacity to come in my house, where my family is like THAT. He slaps my other leg and I prop it up on his knee. Moving away from being angry, I pay more attention to the fact that he cried during the Mufasa part. I figure that it's the simple fact that his own parent died. My heart sinks for having made fun of him but then he speaks up, "Alright, sugar…Good to go."
Snapping out of it, I stand up feeling slightly woozy and walk over to my very entertained uncle, "Ayo, Tio…you mind sending a 20 my way?"
"What I look like?"
"Well, since the old man's at work…a source of income?"
Snorting, he reaches into his back pocket and takes out his wallet, "Only cus you're one of my favorite nieces…", he stuffs a 50 into my pocket
"You mean, I AM you're favorite niece?", I kiss his temple, "Thanks, Tio."
"Yeah, yeah…letmme watch this movie now.", he says shooing us off. Before walking out the door he yells, "BOY! Don't do something you'll regret if I find out! Don't come back late!"
With that in mind we dip out.
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Every time Mike thrusts into me making rock instead of feeling pure bliss and pleasure, I feel nauseous. He doesn't notice. All that goes through his mind is his primitive need to hold me down and hump me until he comes. Another thrust and I can take it no longer. The food we ate prior to ending up in this position feels like it's traveling up my esophagus.
Quickly I push Mike off mid thrust and scurry into the bathroom. Deciding between the sink and toilet, I choose the toilet. I lean over it, praying to God that these motherfuckers really do keep up with maintenance. A gag and out comes the contents of my stomach. Few more retches and I'm not even sure if I still have my stomach intact. Closing my eyes, I pull the handle and flush the toilet.
"You okay in there?", asks a rather annoyed Mike
Ignoring him I search for the complimentary shit motels usually give. To my luck, I find the tube of toothpaste, a cup, a fresh toothbrush. As I brush my teeth, I feel the need to regurgitate…again. This time I don't even remove myself from the sink.
The door pries open; Mike stands there fully naked with a lit cigarette hanging, "What's going on?"
Furrowing my brows together at the stupid ass question, "Oh no nothing I'm quite fine, actually…y'know, aside from throwing up my internal organs…peachy!"
Finding my annoyance amusing Mike chuckles, "Well I'm glad.", he runs and jumps back on the bed, "You ready for another round?"
Just mentioning that makes my stomach church. Not feeling up to it, "You got some weed instead?"
Groaning, "You're rolling this time, Mar.", I stand near the doorframe and search for his discarded pants, "They're by the door."
"Right, what type you get this time?", I ask as I rummage through his jeans, "I don't want no reggie…"
Finding the weed, I stand up and observe the contents of the small baggy. No, it isn't reggie—so whatever it is will do the job. Creaking of the bed lets me know Mr. Brooks is probably heading over to the two-person table.
Distinct hands grab my hips and a manly body presses behind me, "You DO know you're going to have to work for that, right?", says a breathy whisper in my ear which turns me on like a faucet, I shake my head in defiance, "Yeah, you will…", a slap to my ass lets a whimper-like moan escape my mouth
Mike pushes me up against the nearest wall and does me from behind. I oblige not really caring whether I'll feel nauseous or not…I really want that blunt—and hell, a little pleasure doesn't hurt.
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Swinging my legs over the side of the chair, I inhale a drag of the blunt I rolled for myself while my fuck buddy relaxes to his leaning against the bed. We haven't really said much. Mike is pretty thought ridden which is not normal, but I don't put much thought on it.
"You ain't knocked up, are you?", he asks out of the blue
Looking at him through my legs, "Why you ask?"
He lets out a puff, "I've seen shit like this before…like at school…"
Raising an eyebrow, "Explain yourself…"
"I mean…you've gotten bigger…and that throwing up episode…not to mention how fast you tire out...seems funky…"
Feeling slightly offended, "Maybe I'm just getting bigger 'cus we eat like pigs with our muchie-cravings!"
Mike laughs for awhile, "Not even like that…I just hope you ain't trying to settle me down…free birding it…no time for kids"
Inhaling once more, "Not like I can get knocked up. I've tol' you before…irregular periods! Plus, my fuckin' uterus must be hostile with all these drugs…and sex…"
Slumping on to his elbow, not looking fully convinced, "Best hope…I don't need kids…"
Rolling my eyes, finishing my blunt, I stand up and seductively sway my hips as I make my to the bathroom, "No worries…I'm heading for a shower before we meet up the group…you in?"
Putting out his blunt, "Don't even gotta ask…"
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(Late August '99)
Although only 2 months have passed by, I've come to the realization that I'm knocked up. Cliché as it sounds, my getting fat and nausea, amongst other things, has set off alarms. Huge difference between being pregnant and simply being fat it…the fact that the uterus doesn't harden or inflate. My belly isn't pudgy, it's hard. My tits have become more sensitive…like everything about me has a different feel.
Being that if I'm in fact, knocked up, my kid has probably been affected by my lousy lifestyle. Making me all the more worried about what I'm going to do. Who knows how far along I am. Normally, I'd just track my last period but even then I don't remember. I've been doing weed, some crack, and not to forget—drinking. Nobody knows, not even Wes or Micks.
Watching Mike roll up a joint, I become tenser and tenser. I called him up for a simple fuck and smoke but in reality, my intentions were to tell him of my suspicions. As he starts rolling up, he looks up at, "You're quiet…"
Jumping slightly, "Oh…just thinking…"
"About…?"
Playing with my nails, feeling a sweat coming on…pressure from every angle, I blurt it out, "I think I'm pregnant!", I cover my mouth with my hands
Mike stares at me, blinks, and laughs, "Nice one…here, you can have the fir—"
"Not playing…", I whisper
His playful smile disappears, "What do you mean by 'not playing'?", he asks setting his jaw
The air feels thick and my lungs lack the ability to take it in, "I-I think I am…look touch my stomach…"
Standing up, I go over to his side and grasp his hand. He flinches away, "I knew it…I KNEW IT!", he says standing up suddenly, "You planned this, didn't you?"
Eyes wide and confused, "Wha-What? I didn't even know myself until I-I thought about it ye-yesterday!"
Mike's eyes wild and showing rage, "Sure you did. This is what you wanted! You're scared I'll dump you li-like PHIL—SO YOU DO THIS!"
My hand connects with his cheek, "Don't. Mention. Him.", I growl, "Never did I want a kid—much less when I'm a kid myself!", taking the upper-hand I push Mike, "MUCH LESS FROM A LOW-LIFE JUNKIE LIKE YOU!"
The boy in full rage, takes hold of my wrists and puts immense pressure on them, "BUT YOU DID LET THIS BASTARD FUCK THE SHIT OUT OF YOU…RAW, DIDN'T YOU?", spits out shaking me to make a point, "No worries, Mike…I'm an irregular…my uterus is too hostile...", he says mocking me, "HOW FUCKING DUMB WAS I TO HAVE BELIEVED THAT LOAD!", he pushes me to the floor, "This…this…this is yo-your fault!"
Scared and all, I find it in me to voice my own thoughts, "No, no…takes two to make one fucking baby!"
Faster than I can recount, Mike squeezes his hand around my throat, "If you know what's best…abort that damned bastard…y'hear? ABORT…don't even come lookin' for me anymore…", another squeeze and he lets go. Bills fly over me, "Take care of it."
Laying there, I lay emotionless until I hear the door slam close. Only when he's out of hearing distance do I begin to cry. Cry because I'm way above being fucked. Cry because I am not ready to mother another human—hell, I wouldn't even know how. Cry because my mind cannot, will not wrap itself around abortion…killing a poor, defenseless, faultless, life.
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(Week later)
Paying the taxi driver, I step out into the frigidness of inner-city Chicago. My mind is dull and bleak. Clear as a slate as I eye the Near North Center or better known as the Planned Parenthood Center. I take a short walk there. In the distance, I see a playground full of young kids who play and laugh without a care in the world. I am still considered a child myself. Even though I'm 15 going on to 16, tomorrow's my birthday. Tomorrow, I'll be living child-free.
Keeping the direction of the clinic, I rub my barely noticeable tummy. Silently I talk to my child. Apologizing endlessly to him or her and telling her/him how better off she/he'll be up with Jesus and his/her Auntie Fannie. Though the growing child in my womb might not be able to even understand, it's the best I can do—for myself at least.
Mike dipped out of town as soon as he left the motel room. His family called me up asking for his whereabouts and all I could say was 'I don't know'. I don't blame him for bailing out on me. We were just fuck buddies…friends, perhaps but nothing more. The only regret I do have is not having been more cautious because now…I'm left alone having to dispose of this faultless child as if it was just a piece of trash.
The wind picks up and leaves scatter all over. People pass me by some old, others young, some with children, others with dogs, but one thing is sure—they all look at me with disgrace. All know my intentions. All judge me as another slutty, Mexican, teen who couldn't help but keep her legs closed—I don't blame 'em…it's true to an extent.
Reaching the clinic, grabbing the door as a pregnant woman passes, she smiles at me and says, "It's a little girl", the ecstatic woman rubs her belly loving
Tears appear in my line of vision, "Congrats, miss."
She pats my shoulder, "You goin' in for your ultrasound?"
Smiling, I nod my head,"Nervous…"
"Don't worry, girl…you'll be fine.", she starts wobbling away, "Good luck!"
Rubbing my tummy, tears drip, "I'm sorry…", I whisper
*end of flashback*
Crying uncontrollably, I feel long forgotten guilt ebb away at me. Time has elapsed and Eli cries for my attention. I don't even have the heart to look at her, much less touch her. You did what was best… I shake my head and continue to cry. Reason number one why I always settled for no kids; another reason for not wanting to hear or know of Eli. How'd you do it for Dom then? I took the boy as my own…treated him like my own son.
The door opens and I don't even bother to hide my tears. Punk steps through, "I thought you had thi—", he sees my tears, "What's wrong?", he strolls over to tend to the baby first.
After she's done with, I've refrained from crying seeing that she's gone under, again. "Beautiful…", whispers Phil
I look away from him and furiously wipe my tears, it's my fault…you SHOULD hate yourself, Mar..., "I can't hold her…can't look at her…I-I need to leave…", he retrains me
Phil crouches and places both hands, holding my face, "Hey…hey…tell me what's wrong…", the sincerity in his eyes…TLC in them, in his gesture make me angrier with myself.
"You shouldn't care or feel anything but repulsion for me, Phil…", I whisper
He stares at me as if I'm crazy, which I kind of am, "Well sorry to disappoint but that's next to impossible…", he says with a gentle, lopsided smile as he wipes my tears
Closing my eyes, I shake my head, "I've done so many horrible things…you shouldn't…"
"I have my faults…my past too…Nobody's perfect…"
"No…Phil…", I reply louder than I expected to sound, "You're too good for me…", his eyebrows furrow and I caress his face, "what I've done…it's unforgiveable to anyone…", another confused look, "I-I killed my baby, Phil…your niece or nephew…I DID…", tears stream down my face, "DON'T LOVE ME…I'M A HORRIBLE, HORRIBLE PERSON…DON'T…DO—"
All the man does is embrace me as I let out my pent-up, pushed away emotions. He rubs circles along my back. "We all have our past, beautiful…We do shit that seems right in the moment…I know I've done shit I'm not too proud of too, beautiful…Nothing's going to push me away…so stop trying to scare me…I'm in love with you—everything that there is to you…Talk to me let me in, you'll feel better…let me in…",