Maybe Baby (3 page)

Jenna was probably three inches taller than me. I was 5'4
"
and she was no more than 5
'
7
"
at best.

“You here alone?” I asked, ignoring her barb.

"Not hardly," she replied as she glanced over to where a tall, black-haired man came down over the hill toward her. He was lean, nice-looking, and obviously fond of tats. He had a white wife-beater shirt that highlighted his muscular shoulders, tight black jeans, and pointy boots. He was at least 6'4
"
, with dark, almost black eyes, and long sideburns.

“There you are, darlin',” Jenna squealed. “I was beginning to think you got lost.” She grabbed his tanned arm and pulled him close. “I want y’all to meet my friend, Stuart. Stuart, this is Clint, and this is Tylar,” she said, throwing her free arm out as if displaying prizes on a game show. Stuart nodded to each of us. “Baby,” Jenna gushed, “why don’t you go on over there and get us a couple of beers, okay? Keg is fine.” Stuart nodded, again, and went off to do as instructed.

“Is he not a gorgeous god?” she mused, whether to Clint or me I wasn’t sure.

“Uh, yeah, quite the package, Jenna,” I responded, trying to sound sincere.

I drained the rest of my wine cooler as she yammered on and then sweetly asked Clint if he'd get me another one. He raised an eyebrow, shook his head again, and was off.

Thankfully she shut up once Stuart appeared with two large plastic cups brimming with the draft beer. “Thanks, baby,” she crooned, accepting one and taking a deep swallow of the foamy beer.

Something about Jenna appealed to men who had a penchant for taking a walk on the wild side. She likely rocked their world. I was envious of her in a way.

Clint returned with my third wine cooler. “Hey,” he said, “they’re grilling some hot dogs over there. Are you hungry?”

“I could eat," I smiled.

I saw him visibly relax as we walked over to where Luke was rolling hot dogs around on the grill, making sure that all sides were equally charred. I grabbed a bun out of the bag and a paper plate.

Later, we all told stories and drank by the fire pit. It was going on midnight when Jenna got the idea of going swimming in the Sinclairs’ pool.

The pool was a pretty far trek, but Clint said he'd wait for me to change and walk me down.

The guys and Jenna were already there when we arrived. Luke, Rodney, and Stuart were passing Jenna around in the water, throwing her from one to another as she giggled and shrieked with delight. Ray and Denise had left to go back to Denise’s apartment in town for the night.

“Shhh, you guys, keep it down,” Clint warned, eyeing the darkened mansion. “I meant what I said earlier. I’m not looking to get fired.” He took off his tee shirt and slipped into the water at the shallow end of the pool. “You coming in, Tylar?” he called.

I finished off my wine cooler, kicked my flip-flops aside, and pulled my tee shirt over my head. I waded down to Clint, a bit anxious. I wasn't a swimmer and I had no clue as to the maximum depth of the pool at the other end. There was a diving board, so I figured it had to be eight to ten feet deep there.

Jenna was on Stuart’s shoulders and wanted to play a game in the water to see who could knock who off someone’s shoulders. “C’mon, Clint, get Tylar up there on your shoulders and let’s see which chick is the strongest. ’Course, it’s up to the guys to hold on tight to their legs, which shouldn’t be a problem for you, I guess,” she snickered.

Clint turned and looked at me questioningly, “Do you want to play?”

“I’m game,” I answered, feeling a resurgence of nerve since the last wine cooler. I scrambled up onto Clint’s broad shoulders. He waded to the middle of the pool. Rodney was appointed line judge so we waited for him to give us the signal to start. I noticed Jenna leaning down and whispering something to Stuart. Clint and I approached Jenna and Stuart in the middle of the pool. The depth here was about five and a half feet, by my estimate.

“Ready, set, go!” Rodney yelled, backing out of the way.

Immediately, Jenna and Stuart made their way quickly over to Clint and me, splashing us to the point that I was blinded by the water in my eyes; I squeezed them shut. The chlorine stung like hell. I was flailing my arms about wildly hoping to make contact with Jenna to knock her off. I knew that we were in deeper water now. I could feel the water touching my behind, which meant Clint’s face had to be partially submerged.

Just then Jenna launched a pre-emptive strike. Stuart had maneuvered into a position where they were in the more shallow water. Clint and I were on the down slope to the diving area. Suddenly, Jenna went underwater and grabbed my right foot while Stuart grabbed my left foot. In unison, they pushed up with all their might and launched me off of Clint’s back.

I flew airborne out of the water. I briefly saw Jenna jump on Clint, laughing and dunking him so that he could offer no assistance to me. It was as if I was watching the whole scene in slow motion. I felt myself sailing through the air backward. I saw the look of horror on the faces of Luke and Rodney as the back of my head slammed into something hard. I felt a blinding pain, and then I hit the water face down. I felt myself sinking and sinking. Everything was a blur. And it totally sucked that I couldn't swim.

Tiny bubbles escaped from my mouth as I sank. I futilely waved my hands in the water. It was eerily quiet under the surface. I drifted slowly toward the bottom of the pool.

Everything went blessedly black.

The first thing I felt as I came to was something pressing heavily on my chest. There was pressure again and again. A mouth was on mine. Then more pressure.

I was hacking up water then sputtering as I was rolled over onto my side where I proceeded to vomit.

I groaned. My chest ached, my throat burned, and my head throbbed. I heard someone else talking now.

“I think she’s coming around.”

Silence followed. “Who the hell is responsible for this?” The semi-familiar voice asked, clearly furious.

I know that voice.

I tried to say something, but all that came out was a squeaky croak. Strong arms turned me over onto my back. I was being lifted as if I weighed nothing. I could feel a heartbeat pounding, mine fluttering. Some other voice was talking, a woman’s voice I didn’t recognize, asking if I should be taken to the hospital. Then it was Clint’s voice again.

“Here’s a blanket, sir,” Clint sounded scared.

I immediately felt warmer as the blanket was wrapped closely around me and tucked under my chin. I willed myself to open my eyes. They were so heavy, but I needed to see and know for sure. Slowly, my eyes fluttered open and my vision was clear enough that I could see sapphire eyes staring into mine.

Trey was carrying me somewhere, I could feel his strides eating some major ground. When he must have felt me staring, he looked down at me. Immediately, he slowed his strides as I saw a hard frown pull on his eyebrows.

“Trey?” a voice croaked. I realized the voice was mine.

“You’re okay,” he said softly and soothingly. “Everything’s okay. We just need to get you to the hospital.”

I nodded gingerly; I had one craptastic headache working through my skull. He must've sensed it because he picked up his earlier pace without a word as I felt my eyes drift shut, a siren wailing somewhere in the distance.

Chapter 4

My dreams had haunted me for as long as I could remember. They didn’t seem like normal dreams. In my freshman year at college, I'd taken Psychology I as part of my degree curriculum. We studied a chapter describing body rhythms and mental states covering dreams. There were so many theories. I wasn't sure which theory I supported, but I definitely felt that my dreams were an expression of something. Something from my past frightened me; I didn't know what.

It seemed like I'd been dreaming for days. My dreams had been interrupted routinely by voices, lights, people checking on me, prodding me, lifting me. I heard buzzers and beeping, phones ringing and footsteps, even someone snoring. Even now, I drifted through a dream I’d had before.

It's my senior prom. I'd begged my mom for a strapless dress. She told me that I'd have to pay for it myself, because she couldn’t afford it. I worked every day after school to save up enough money for a form-fitting peach satin sheath that hit above the knees. It was strapless and the bodice was cut straight across. It was the most money that I'd ever spent on clothes, but it was prom, the first and only one I'd ever have.

By my side that night will be my steady boyfriend, Daniel Henderson. We've been dating through my entire senior year. He comes from a good family, and has a scholarship to attend Purdue University in the fall. He is good looking, with dark brown eyes and sandy blond hair. He is built, too. He'd played football all four years of high school, and would play in the fall for Purdue. Daniel means a lot to me and God knows he has been patient. We hadn’t done much more than make out. I'd let him feel me up inside my top and finger me a couple of times. But now I'm ready; I want to give him a prom night he will remember.

I slip my freshly bathed and waxed body into my new silk underwear and bra. My mom helps me zip my peach satin sheath in the back.

“I want you to have these earrings, Ty,” Mom says as she hands me a blue velvet box. I open the box and there are two glistening pearl drop earrings nestled on a pink satin pillow.

“These are beautiful, Mom, thank you!”

She smiles as I fasten them into my ears. “They are perfect,” I say, looking at my reflection in the mirror. Mom fusses with my hair a bit more. It's piled up loosely on top of my head. She releases a few tendrils from each side and frames them around my face.

“There now, that’s better, gives you a little bit of a ‘tousled’ look, now don’t it?” she says with satisfaction. Mom spins me around to take a full look. Her forehead creases a bit as she taps her index finger several times against her bottom lip.

“Needs one more thing,” she says, hurrying off to her room and returning a moment later with another blue velvet box. She opens it and presents me with a gold necklace that has a single tear-drop pearl pendant. She tosses the box over onto my bed, and fastens the necklace around my neck, checking the clasp.

“Your daddy gave me this, along with those earrings, Ty,” she explains. “About the only things he ever did give me, besides you of course. Seems only right that you should have them. There now, baby girl, you look gorgeous.”

I study myself in the mirror again, and I feel pretty. My make-up is subtle, my dress allows a bit of cleavage to show, but nothing overly daring. My hair looks shiny and playful. It’s the earrings and necklace that make it all perfect.

“Thanks, Mom,” I say, putting my arms around her and hugging her tightly. Mom gets that uncomfortable look like always when I show her affection. Our doorbell chimes, interrupting our rare tender moment. I grab my clutch from the bed and start for the door. Mom stops me with her hand.

“Tylar, honey, listen and don’t get mad, okay?”

“What is it Mom?” I'm puzzled.

“Honey, wasn’t that long ago that I went to prom, you know? Now, I just wanted to let you know that I stuck a couple of condoms in your purse there.”

“Mom!” I gasp, shocked.

“Now, don’t ‘mom’ me. I've given you permission to go to those after-prom parties. You think I don’t know what goes on after prom? Well, honey, I do. I just want to make sure that you have protection in case Daniel doesn’t, okay? You have fun, now, you hear? This is your night, baby.”

I turn and descend the stairs, still blushing as I reach the landing and open the front door for Daniel. He's handsome in his black tuxedo, with peach cummerbund and tie. He places a gorgeous wrist corsage with peach-colored roses and white baby’s breath on me and whistles.

“You're hot, baby!” he laughs. “Are you ready?”

I nod, swallowing nervously. “I am, Daniel,” I say softly, smiling at him.

I'd been
ready
, too. I reflected on my dream as it continued. I'd wanted to lose my virginity; it hung around my neck like an albatross. The prom had gone by so fast and the after-party was a whirl. I remembered dancing with Daniel and kissing him as we swayed to the music. I remembered arriving at the after-party, where my friends handed me drinks.

There I am, laughing, stumbling, and totally wrecked! I can barely manage to stand, so Daniel is holding me up. He has one arm around my waist, half holding, half dragging me up the walkway to my front door. My heels and clutch purse are in his other hand. I look like a pathetic rag doll; my hair hangs down my back. My sheath is torn from when I stumbled out of his car. The satin is stained with rainbow vomit. That's from the Jell-O shots. My mom's standing on the porch with the front door wide open. She has her skimpy black nightie on, the one with spaghetti straps that's cut low, really low. Mom motions Daniel into the front hallway, and closes the door behind him.

“What in the world happened to her, Daniel?”

Daniel gives her his best attempt at a sober grin. He doesn’t pull it off very well. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Preston, I really am,” he says. “I didn’t know that they were feeding her Jell-O shots. She’s small and, well, I think she didn’t know her limit. But that’s no excuse! It's totally my fault, ma’am. I take full responsibility.”

“Now you call me Maggie just like everyone else does.”

“Ms. — I mean, Maggie? I think it might be best if we made a bed for her in the bathroom if that’s all right. I’m not sure she’s done tossing yet,” Daniel is smiling at my mom now.

“Okay, sweetie, let me get a couple pillows for her. Can you get her upstairs by yourself, Daniel?"

“Sure thing, Maggie,” he winks.

Oh God, Mom was flirting with Daniel—my Daniel. My dream continued on to a part that I'd never seen before.

I'm sprawled across the bathroom floor. Someone has taken my prom dress off and dressed me in my nightgown. There is a pillow and blanket next to me. I'm no longer feeling nauseated. I'm just tired and my head is pounding. I just want my bed. I head down the carpeted hallway toward my room, stopping at my mom’s bedroom to see if she's sleeping or waiting up to yell at me. She's not in there. Her bedside clock reads 3:47 a.m.