28. GROWING PAINS
The leaves on the trees started fluttering down from the tallest of branches in different shades of gold, red and orange until they were almost bare. It grew much colder now, the wind biting. Autumn was in full-swing and you could definitely tell winter was well on its way, there was nothing subtle about it. A cool breeze squeezed its way through a crack in the bedroom window and I pulled the covers higher up over me trying to avoid the chilly sensation which nipped at my toes and crept up the rest of my body. Letting out a groan, I wrapped the blanket tight over my shoulders like a cape, my fists brought together beneath my chin under the fabric. Ah, much better. I thought to myself as I started to drift right back off into total oblivion.
Edythe pushed up a sound from the back of her throat and I bolted upright.
"Edythe? Are you alright?" I quickly asked, eyes wide. She hissed once before answering my question.
"Ouch." She winced a little; touched at her stomach.
"I'm sorry! Did I jab you with my elbow or something?"
"No, not you."
I tilted my head. She let out a quiet laugh from behind her fingers.
"He's just letting me know that you've made him quite upset by hogging the blanket. He's cold." She sighed, smiling. There was another flutter in my chest when I realized just who she meant by that. "Beau?" she started up in a soft, honey-sweet voice, "Would you please be so kind as to share that blanket with us?"
"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" I apologized again and frantically threw the entire thing on her, quickly arranging it over her legs and pulling it up over her torso before securing it around her shoulders. She laughed.
"Not me. Just him." She rearranged the blanket so it came down in thick folds over her lap, pressing it to her body. Leaning forward, she reached for the spare quilt I'd forgotten I'd left at the foot of the bed. Shaking it out, she pulled it over me, making sure my arms and legs were fully covered with it.
"There. Much better." Admiring her handiwork, she ran her hand down her hair, stopping to touch at the shadow of her swan neck which it curved into. I chuckled. Even in the moonlight her porcelain skin shone, and I couldn't help reaching for her beautiful hand in the dark. I left a kiss on her knuckles and went right back to sleep.
…
When I woke up, Edythe wasn't there. I figured she went down to her room to listen to music or something sometime in the night and quickly changing into an old t-shirt of mine and some faded blue jeans, I galloped down the stairs. Knocking twice on her door, I sort of just barged in when I wasn't getting a response only to find her huddled on her knees in front of her open closet, wearing a pair of stretchy gray shorts and a thin white top which hugged closely to her curves. There were two small stacks of jeans and pants in varying shades of gray, blue, and black on the chaise and on the floor in front of it, there were all these different kinds of tops laid flat out on top of each other in two additional stacks. When my wife heard me coming in, she launched the pair of charcoal gray jeans I may or may not have shrunk in the wash on our honeymoon at my head.
"Well, good morning to you, too." I said, picking them up off the floor where they landed at my feet and went to kneel down beside her.
"It's official. I can't fit into these anymore, and it's partially your fault - no, scratch that, it's all your fault." she said without even looking at me. Though her voice sounded a little annoyed, I could still tell it was tinged with laughter.
"Oh, is that what all this-" I motioned to the stacks of clothes behind me, "is about?"
She sucked a quick breath in through her teeth. "Well, not quite – I found out I couldn't wear these anymore and got a little paranoid about the rest of my things." She motioned to the pants then her open closet and sighed, her shoulders falling a little as she rested her hands on the tops of her thighs.
"Ah. So, what's the verdict?" I eyed all the separate stacks again. She looked up at the roof and bit her lip.
"It's not too bad, I suppose – well, for now, that is. I'm not entirely sure how long that's going to last, though." She let out a sigh, pushing her hair out of her face and bringing her hands in to rest on her thighs again.
"We'll go shopping. Whenever you want." I offered, lowering myself onto my knees and copying her way of sitting.
She smiled at me. "I'll probably have to take you up on that offer one of these days."
"Deal. So - shall we get something to eat now?" I asked, jerking a thumb in the direction of her door. I was starving, and I'm sure she was, too, eating for two and all. I started to my feet, but Edythe tugged on my wrist.
"What's up?" I sat back down beside her. She inhaled a sharp breath and looked to me again, her eyes serious.
"I realized I haven't asked what you thought – that is, what you thought about all this – before." she said quietly, covering her chin with one hand and touching her stomach with the other. I gnawed on my lip, narrowing my eyes a little. How was I supposed to answer that one? It still didn't feel real to me sometimes, I never even fathomed it to be a possibility and yet, here we were. I guess that's just been us from the start - impossibilities made somehow amazingly and miraculously real. Though I guess I still had yet to register that. But it didn't seem like the right thing to say, either - I just wanted Edythe to feel better; to cheer her up.
"Um, better you than me?" I finally said, smiling.
"I'm serious, Beau." She gave my wrist a shake.
Okay, she saw through that. I took her hand in mine and squeezed it. "Well, it's..." I sighed. "Okay, I'm going to be honest with you, I still can't really wrap my head around it sometimes. It's just not…" I inhaled a quick breath through my teeth, "it's just not what I was expecting." Her crimson eyes widened then like she was hurt; like she'd heard me say "I don't want this" instead and turned away. "But!" I took the bottom of her chin, tilting it back up towards me. "I couldn't be happier. Thank you." And I truly was. She needed to know that. Cradling her face in my hands, I pulled her in close and pressed my lips tight to the space between her eyes for a long moment, holding her there. Her fingers hooked themselves over my wrists and I noticed they were trembling a little bit. Then she threw her arms around me, nestling her head against my chest. "What about you?" I whispered into her hair.
"I'm happy of course; and excited. But I'm also still afraid, you know. About everything; about not having any guarantees. But you don't understand how much easier it is for me knowing that I'm not alone in this." Her voice broke a little with emotion. "I'm not, right?"
I shook my head. "Never."
"That's good." she whispered, dropping a kiss on my shoulder. My arms tightened around her and I held her close.
…
We came down the stairs and made to cut across the living room. Arch was already there.
"Any news?" Edythe asked her brother as per usual. He was by that window again, the one nearest to the piano with his hands out. Shaking his head, he brought them down to rest on its hood.
"Nothing yet."
My phone rang.
"… besides that." he quickly added, pointing at me. "It's your dad. He wants to see you both by Thanksgiving."
I yanked it out from my back pocket – spot on. It was Charlie. I took a breath through my teeth, steeling my nerves for the next act before swiping a shaky thumb across my screen.
"Hey, Dad." I waved even though I knew he couldn't even see me. Why was I such a weirdo?
"Hey, son." His gruff voice answered me.
"What's up?"
"Feeling any better?" I was just about to come up with another big fat lie but my stomach flip-flopped. Apparently, I was now physically liar-ed out. I took a deep breath.
"Yeah. A lot better, actually. We're feeling pretty great." You can shut up now, Beau. I reminded myself and whammed my head silently into the palm of my hand.
"That's great news. Thanksgiving's coming up, and I was wondering…" I looked up at Arch with narrowed eyes. "Told you so", he mouthed.
"… how does that sound?"
"What'd you say again, Dad?" Of course, I already knew but I panicked, wanting to buy myself a little more time.
"I was just wondering if you and Edythe can swing by; join me for Thanksgiving. Bonnie and Jules will be there, so will the Clearwaters. Just a small thing. What do you say?"
"Sounds great, Dad. We'd love to." I was already abusing myself mentally by the time I wheezed out that last sentence.
"Looking forward to it." The volume of his voice didn't change at all, but I could tell he really was glad to hear that and for one split second, I felt my nerves let up some. But then almost as instantly, they came back fiercer than ever, and I was again wondering what the heck I was supposed to do now.
"Yeah, us too. Take care, we'll see you soon." I hung up quick, resisting the sudden urge to launch my phone clear out the window and watch it sink to the bottom of a lake with pleasure.
"Ugh." I groaned, pressing my hands to my forehead. What am I going to tell Dad?
"Arch?" I started, lifting my gaze to meet his.
"Yeah?"
"Good or bad idea?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. He put a finger on his lip and closed his eyes, shaking his head and smiling a moment later.
"No mortal danger. You might feel that way at one point, though." He laughed. "But it'll pass, I promise."
"Mind telling me why, exactly?"
He shook his head, trying to hide a smile. "Nah. I'll let you figure that one out for yourself."
"Gee, thanks a bunch. So helpful." I muttered.
"I try." he replied in a cheery voice. I laughed at that.
...
I hurried to the kitchen knowing Edythe would be waiting for me there. Her back was to me, elbow bent on the kitchen counter, her other hand tight around an empty glass streaked with red which I pretended not to see. Her lip curled up at the end, a sharp breath escaping from them in a hiss. Wondering what could have brought that on, I came up behind her quick and took her shoulders, running my hands up and down her arms to soothe her.
"What's wrong?" I asked. She swallowed once and put a fist to her lips like she was suppressing a cough and instantly those alarm bells started to go off in my head again.
"Do you feel sick?" She shook her head at my question, but her fingers curled against her torso and she looked down, blinking.
"I don't understand you," she muttered impatiently. "This is what you wanted, isn't it?" She raised then lowered the empty glass and I heard it clink against the counter. It was like she was talking to an actual person standing in the room right now and I scratched my head.
"Edythe?" She looked up when I said her name and let out an angry little huff. What exactly have I done this time to deserve my wife's ire?
"Your son is being very difficult right now, Beau." She pouted slightly in a very distracting way and my entire English vocabulary flew out the window and self-combusted into total flames.
"Huh?" I said stupidly. She sighed.
"Obviously, he gets that from you."
"I beg to differ." I began, suddenly invigored by her insult. I clasped my hands behind my back, grinning down at her.
"No, it's most definitely all you." She bit back a smile and sighed again. "He confuses me. One minute he's happy with what I'm giving him, the next he's throwing a fit and kicking me all over." She sat down at the dining room table and brought her hands in to rest on the slight, gentle curve of her torso. I took a seat beside her and slid my own hand across the table, waiting for her to take it. Her cool fingers pressed themselves to the top of my palm and I stroked her knuckles with my thumb.
She winced, her tightening grip taking me by surprise.
"Why are you like this?" she muttered, but there was a sort of tenderness in her voice when she said it. She showed me a tired-looking smile. "He's still hungry. Not for this though, I suppose." She gestured to the empty glass and leaned herself up against the chair's backrest, hooking her hands over her torso.
And then my stomach let out a huge growl. Edythe threw her head back, laughing.
"I should have known. Just like two peas in a pod." She rested her cheek on her hand and flashed a grin at me, her ruby eyes lighting up from below her thick eyelashes.
"Two peas in a pod, huh?" I put a finger on my chin, thinking.
Just then, it hit me.
"Hey!" I snapped my fingers, realizing with giddy conviction that finally, finally there was something I could actually do for my wife instead of the other way around.
Edythe followed me to the kitchen and I set to work immediately, throwing all the cupboards open with a clatter and gathering up all my ingredients with quick, easy movements like I was the next Iron Chef of America.
"Beau? What's all this for?" She laughed, touching the produce I had strewn all over the kitchen counter.
"A gourmet omelet. And lucky for you, you'll be joining me." I whisked the eggs, dumping them into the black pan with a sizzle. Then I started chopping up some red and green peppers, folding them into the eggs on the stovetop and putting in a dash of salt here and some black pepper there. Edythe leaned herself up against the kitchen counter, watching me work. She sniffed at the air and wrinkled her nose.
"Yeah, I don't think so." She shook her head, hiding a smile in the slight curve of her pink lips. "That doesn't even smell edible… to me, at least."
"Are you doubting my mad skills?" She let out this breathy little laugh at that and suddenly I felt woozy, my knees buckling under my weight.
"Beau?" Her voice was closer now and I felt myself being pulled upright again, a cool arm under both of my own. I heard the omelet let out a hot, angry sizzle. It was official – her being this beautiful and this close to me at the exact same time was hazardous to my health.
"Easy there." She helped me to stand, her cool breath a shivered whisper that initiated those unattractive red splotches into action. I shrunk away from her touch and went to poke at that omelet again.
"Hey, would you look at that - it's ready." I said too quickly, flipping the pan over and plopping the fluffy yellow thing onto a plate from a dangerous height so I splashed my face with tiny pinpricks of hot oil because I was obviously the most amazing guy in the world.
"You forgot to turn off the stove, my very smart husband." Edythe laughed and turned the dial.
"Your fault." I pouted, scraping the pan clean and putting it in the sink to soak while my cheeks blazed a freaking trail of fire clear to El Dorado. Taking the plate with me, I hulked my way back to the dining room table, unable to meet my wife's eyes. Taking a seat, I cut off a piece of omelet and held it out for Edythe to take. "Here." I mumbled, waving it half-heartedly in front of her face. She pushed my wrist away, biting back a smile.
"Mm, I'll pass." She shook her head, her curls falling perfectly over her shoulders in tousled waves that caught the sun shining in from the kitchen window just right. I had to fight with myself to put my foot down.
"Just have a bite. I think it might actually help." She gave me another look.
"Beau. It repulses me."
"Just pretend you're the baby, then. Here, I'll help you with that." I started moving the fork around in little loop-de-loops in the air. "C'mon, open up for the airplane!" I showed her a big grin. She narrowed her beautiful eyes very aggressively at me just then, hardening her gaze and staring me down from head to foot and back again with a murderous, full-on death glare: I mean, if looks could kill I'm pretty sure I'd be in straight-up decomposition by now.
"You do that again and I swear I will bite your hand off. Don't test me." she warned gravely.
"Heh." I pulled the fork back and swallowed real hard. She rolled her eyes but finally decided to open her mouth very slightly. Brightening up at my little win, I quickly fed her a bite of omelet before she could change her mind.
"See? That wasn't so hard now, was it?"
"Speak for yourself."
"Well, at least you know your efforts will be going towards a noble cause." I congenially offered up. She was not impressed. Her eyes flicked towards me again, but then they softened up just a touch and she looked down. "Well, I suppose he didn't hate it." She moved her head a little from side to side, resting a hand on her stomach. "At the very least, he's not throwing a tantrum over it." She took the fork from me and cut off the tiniest bite of omelet, pausing to hold her breath then shoving it down her throat with the expression of a martyr. Instantly she grimaced, but her face eased up again just as quickly and she leaned back in her chair. "How fascinating. Somehow, it's reaching him. He likes it… he likes it very much." She laughed. "Don't you?" she coaxed in a silvery-sweet tone of voice. I almost envied him, knowing the sound of his mother's musical voice was amplified tenfold for him in there. I knew I could listen to it myself all day and night if I could, and he was actually able to do that. I sighed, content, and squeezed Edythe's cool hand in mine.
It was a very good morning.
…
That night was even colder than the last. Edythe and I settled ourselves into bed with a separate quilt each. She made a little nest with hers, wrapping it snugly around her torso - the only part of her now that could feel the cold and actually be affected by it, I guess. I on the other hand pulled my quilt tight over my shoulders and bent my legs so I was entirely covered up by its warmth. One of her hands was pressed to her stomach – that was becoming a permanent thing now, it seemed – and the other stroked my arm, coming up to touch my head every now and again to run its fingers through my messy hair. My mom used to do that too, a long time ago. Edythe started singing us a quiet lullaby - originally it was my lullaby as she called it, but now I guess I kind of shared it with the baby - and I drifted off to sleep easily.
Later that night, I woke up with a start. Edythe took a sharp breath - one of many, it seemed - and I turned to look at her, but she was facing away from me.
"Edythe? What's wrong?" I shook her shoulder. She let out another quiet sound from the back of her throat and her fingers clutched at the fabric of her nightgown.
"I don't understand," she turned around; took another breath. "It hurts. Quite badly." Her jaw clenched behind the pink of her lips. She writhed once trying to hide it from me and I sprang to my feet.
"I'm getting you to Carine." I said in a calm voice, trying not to betray the frantic panic I could feel welling up from the pit of my stomach. "Can you stand?" I held my hand out to her.
"I'm fine." She shook her head. Though she refused my aid, I helped her up anyways. I turned a small lamp on in the hallway and we went down the stairs together. When we got to Carine's office door, panic made me forget to knock and I barged right in.
"Edythe? Honey? Are you alright?" Carine threw the documents she was looking at down on her computer table and took Edythe from me, easing her down on the daybed in the back of the room and pulling up two chairs for me and her to sit in. Tying her hair up in a messy ponytail, Carine leaned forward, touching Edythe's cheek.
"Now – what seems to be the problem?" Her voice was a smooth, calm sound, just as a doctor's should be. Edythe opened her mouth to speak but then clamped it shut again, hiding her face in her hand like she didn't want us to see it. She let out another quiet hissing sound and brought her wrist to her mouth like she was biting down on it to keep from making noise and wrung the fabric at her torso, tangling her fingers in it. Suffering, in every sense of the word, in silence. It hurt me to see; made my heart physically ache because it seemed like she thought she was inconveniencing us somehow with the pain she was in; like she still thought she was alone in this. I squeezed her hand and kissed it. "I'm here for you." I whispered, kneeling down beside her. Stroking her face, I pressed my forehead to hers. Edythe nodded once, the semblance of a smile forming on her otherwise-pained face.
She gasped again, and her hand tightened around my own.
"Breathe, Edythe. Breathe." I tried, hoping it would help some.
"Alright." Carine nodded and rolled the nightgown up over Edythe's stomach to see what was going on. It didn't take long to figure out what was the matter, though.
There were these angry, pulsing black lines stretching up her usually-flawless torso in thin spindles like veins filled out with black Sharpie ink and I shuddered without meaning to.
"Wow." I said, blinking very slowly. "That looks absolutely terrifying." Edythe shot me another death glare and smacked my chest hard for that, so I shut up real quick. I may or may not have continued to gawk at it in silence, though. It was the strangest thing I'd ever seen – these lines; they would thin out and disappear before coming back with a vengeance then disappear, come back, and disappear again like flashing strobe lights at a Halloween party. I felt my heart clench up a little in my chest. It already looked painful to me from here, and all I could think was how badly did it hurt Edythe?
My jaw dropped. "What exactly are they?"
"They're cracks in her skin." Carine answered in a near-silent voice. She looked to Edythe and asked her something without the words. Edythe nodded once.
"This might hurt a little, honey. I'm sorry." Carine traced the tip of her little finger along the inside of the divot which the biggest crack made and Edythe flinched, her breath quickening. She pushed Carine's hand away, whimpering. I dove for my wife and took her hand again, stroking her forehead.
"Why is that happening?" I asked Carine, my voice coming out a lot more panicked than I intended it to.
"From what I can see here, I liken them to stretchmarks; perhaps growing pains."
"Growing pains?"
Carine took a breath before answering my question. "As the fetus grows, her body is being forced to compensate by trying to make an inflexible surface – vampire skin – flexible. That's what's causing the cracks. I'm sure that's what's causing the pain as well."
"They keep appearing then disappearing, though. Why?"
Carine held up a finger. "I have a theory on that – you see, once a person is turned, all bodily fluids are subsequently replaced by vampire venom. My guess is that the venom can serve as a sort of platelet – a type of blood cell in the human body which helps wounds to heal – and works constantly to mend those cracks in her skin, hence why they continually appear and disappear like so. It is a constant regenerative effort." Carine stood up and walked over to a gray filing cabinet. Lowering herself to her knees, she opened the very bottom drawer of the three and pulled out a small glass vial filled with a clear substance. I was about to ask her about it, but she answered me before I had the chance to. "My venom. I keep some on hand in case my husband or any of the kids ever got hurt." She came back to us, swirling the clear liquid around. "Try rubbing some on the cracks, it might help with the pain." Edythe took the little bottle from Carine and dabbing some on the tip of her finger, ran it over one of the bigger cracks. It disappeared almost instantly. I let out the biggest sigh of relief, but I guess it was too soon because Carine clicked her tongue. "What also concerns me though is that in the long run, her body may not be able to keep up with the radical changes which the pregnancy demands. You must also bear in mind that this fetus is very, very strong. Though he may not be as strong as a full vampire, he can certainly do some damage." Carine sighed and leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. "I suppose a question we must now ask is this – how far can glass go before it breaks?"
Edythe sprang up.
"All the way." she said, clenching her fists tight. "I know it can, Carine. And it will. I'll make sure of it." Her crimson eyes shone with determination.
Carine rose to her feet and gave Edythe's shoulders a squeeze. "Then my only hope is that we'll get that far." She looked almost scared again, and I could tell she was thinking about more than one reason why we might not be able to.
Edythe shook her head. "They won't touch us. And I know I'll get through this, Carine. Trust me."
"I hope so, Edythe, because I can't lose my daughter." Carine's voice trembled.
"And you won't. I promise."
Carine kissed her cheek and pulled us both into a hug.