Not To Us (7 page)
Authors: Katherine Owen
“Okay,” she says wiping at her face and eyes. “Are you
sure
?”
“I’m sure. It’s great, very exciting, baby,” I say again. Mathew gives me an uncertain look and I smile wider. “Right Michael?”
“It’s great, Em,” Michael says. He looks up her in the rearview mirror and smiles. “Best flower girl there will ever be,” he says.
I covertly glance in his direction and smile, but now he’s looking at me with concern. “I need to talk to you,” he says quietly. I just nod over at him in the darkness.
≈≈
My house is a disaster. There are countless pizza boxes from the eighty-nine days of exile that the little family passed-over by Robert Bradford has endured. Elaina and Nick have taken it upon themselves to help me pick up. I try to ignore the obvious dire circumstances that must stand out so clearly for Michael and Elaina Shaw on how the Bradford family has been coping these past few months. The dust in the living room floats in the air. My housekeeping abilities have been limited. I had to let Mrs. Sanchez go, since my financial situation became unclear until the divorce was final. My financial situation is still unclear. Sad, but true. I really need to get a grip. I vow to do this tomorrow.
I watch Michael subtly count the number of discarded wine bottles. There are over thirty. I know this, too. He watches me as I do everything one-handed. His frown increases in depth from a surface one to a regular furrow. “Sorry about this,” I keep repeating over and over as we make our way through the house.
Nick and Elaina volunteer to go out and pick up pizzas, per Michael’s suggestion. My children are mute on the fact that they have had pizza every night for three months. I give the youngest ones some orange juice and pull out cheese and crackers and a veggie tray. Again, Michael is watching me do all of this one-handed.
“I need to talk to you,” he says again. Once the kids are settled in front of some G-rated movie in the family room, he firmly pulls me along to the home office and closes the door behind us.
“What’s wrong?”
Michael doesn’t waste any time. He comes over to me and undoes the front two buttons of my shirt and pulls it over my head. In the light of the office lamp, he examines and runs his fingers along my underarm and lumpectomy scar.
“Does it hurt that much? You don’t use your left arm very much,” Michael says. He gets this vexed look.
“Yes, it still hurts. Dr. Liston said it was normal. I see him next week to do another round of x-rays to make sure it’s all gone.”
“You just did radiation?”
“Yes, radiation. No chemo.”
“It shouldn’t hurt like that, anymore,” Michael says. “I wonder if he cut through additional tendons.”
My heart pounds fast. Fear grips me at the somber look I see on his face. “Michael, what are you afraid of?”
Without answering, he helps me put my shirt back on. He pulls it over my head and secures the two buttons for me.
“I want you to come with me to the office tomorrow. We’ll just do some quick x-rays and I’ll talk to Josh.”
“Michael…”
“Ellie…” He pulls me into his arms. His embrace feels so right and I hold on to him for few seconds. I’ve missed him. “God, Ellie. I’m sorry. I never should have…I won’t let you go, again.”
“Michael. No. I can’t do this.” I struggle out of his arms and step back from him. I clasp my arms around my chest as if I can protect my heart from him by this gesture alone. He starts to move toward me and I hold my good hand to stop him from getting closer. “Don’t.”
“Yes,” he says, grabbing my hand and putting it to his lips. His tender kiss of my hand rushes through all of me; the sensation feels electric. “Look, I’m sorry. I don’t deserve you, but I love you, Ellie. I’ve always loved you.”
I lift my head in defiance. “I don’t believe you.”
“I’ll spend the rest of my life convincing you then.”
He pulls me to him. I’m too weary, too exhausted, too undone to resist him. My body betrays me and goes willingly into his arms. The rapid beating of his heart near my face and fresh sage scent of his cologne is intoxicating.
Our lips meet. His arms wrap around me. I sigh.
How I’ve missed this man. He moves in closer. I’m draped all along his body and he’s kissing my neck, my face, and then my lips.
“Don’t do this to me, Michael,” I say without conviction.
“I love you, Ellen Kay. I can’t believe I just wasted eighty-nine days not being with you.” The fact that he knew the exact count of the number of days it has been, since the big blow-up between all of us is enough for me. When he says this, I smile beneath his lips and he smiles back, pulling me even closer. I’m at a loss for words and he doesn’t seem to need any.
≈≈
We’ve forgotten the outside world completely. We’ve forgotten that we have four children milling around the house and now they’re looking for us. A rapid knock at the door has us both stepping away from each other, guilty, just as Nick, then Elaina, followed closely by Mathew and Emily, come through the door.
“What’s going on?” Emily asks.
“Your Mom and I were just working some things out,” Michael says with a playful grin.
Elaina and Nick look at each other, then at the two of us. They both smile. “Working things out?” Elaina asks, now, in her most angelic voice.
I hang my head in shame. I have no morals left. Michael laughs and I look up at him, trying to give him a warning look.
“Okay,” Michael says to the group. “Look, everything has been a little unsettling these past few months, but now, everything is starting to come together. Elaina, your mom is marrying Robert.”
His only child nods at him. “And, that’s great,” Michael says gently. “Because Ellie and I…”
He looks over at me with this tender expression, grabs my right hand, and pulls me to him.
“Ellie and I love each other and so…we’re all going to be together as a big family because sometimes, that’s just how things work out. Things always work out like they’re supposed to.”
“Does that mean you’re going to be my daddy?” Emily asks. She has her hands on her hips in her best intimidating-Emily stance as she stares down Michael.
“Well…your daddy will always be your daddy, Em. I’ll be…” Michael looks over at me. This whole scene has gotten way ahead of us, as we all stand there in the semi-darkness of the office.
“Michael…” I give him another we-shouldn’t-do-this look.
“What? We need to take time to get to know each other before we take the next step?” He rakes his hand through his hair.
“Ellie, I’ve known you for more than eighteen years,” he teases. “What? You need to play the field to make sure I’m the one? Let me save you the trouble.” He wraps his arms around and kisses me, much to the apparent surprise of the children and myself.
I hear giggles from Emily, as Michael lifts his head from mine. “Do it again! Do it again!” Emily says with a laugh.
“Okay, the pizza is getting cold and frankly, I don’t think I can watch anymore,” Nick says in feigned disgust. Then, he winks at me. He and Elaina, both grinning, head out toward the kitchen holding hands. Mathew and Emily follow, while Michael takes my right hand and pulls me along behind him. I walk along beside him in a daze, wondering what we just committed ourselves to.
≈≈
You can eat pizza some eighty-nine nights in a row and survive. My children and I have proven this. It sounds as if this has also been proven at Michael’s place as well.
Elaina and Nick have worked out some elaborate plan. Nick borrows Michael’s car and follows Elaina with her car over to Carrie and Robert’s new residence so they can spend more time alone together. Michael has not announced his plans for leaving. I have left the front door unlocked for Nick’s return and cleaned up the downstairs to the best of my abilities.
A little while ago, I sent Emily off to get her pajamas on, knowing she’s worn out by the range of emotions and activities of this night. Now, I climb the stairs to monitor her progress for bed and find Michael languishing across her bed and reading her a story. Emily is under the covers with her favorite stuffed bunny with a satisfied, contented smile on her face. I can’t even look at Michael without giving myself away. The man is beyond distraction.
Mathew is also getting ready for bed. I say good night to him. He calls good night to Michael and gives me a secret smile.
Thrown off balance by Michael’s presence, I stand in the hallway, uncertain. I contemplate going back downstairs and opening a bottle of wine, but feel the fatigue from the many events of this day catch up to me.
Michael finds me in the hallway. “I should go,” he says.
“Don’t go.” These are not planned words by me. And, without thinking, I pull him along to the master bedroom.
I’ve changed everything: the mattress, the bedding, the linen. I babble on about what I’ve done during one of my limited days of divine energy in the past few months, while a wide smile spreads across his face.
“I want you to stay, Michael. I want your face to be the first thing I see.”
It’s the most honest I’ve been about my feelings in months. I smile back at him, now. So, we begin this thing we started twenty years and ninety-seven days before.
≈ ≈ ≈
Day 90
I
wake up to Emily tapping the side of my face. “Mommy, Michael’s making all of us pancakes this morning. I let him in and he has coffee for you and everything. He’s making pancakes and eggs and even bacon.” Her joy is infectious; I can’t help but smile, wondering how Michael snuck out of the bedroom, let alone the house.
“Wow, that’s great, Em. Special day; huh? ” She crawls up in bed with me.
“Momma, you’re not mad at me; are you? That Carrie wants me to be a flower girl when she marries Daddy? How does that work, since he’s married to you?” Her little nose crinkles; I reach out and touch it.
“I’m not mad at you, Em. Sometimes, mommies and daddies don’t stay together. They don’t stay married, but they’re still friends because they share their family. That’s what ours is like. I think it’s great that you’re going to be a flower girl. It’s going to be so special, Em.”
She puts her head down on my chest and I stroke it with my left arm, which is still hard to do because the pain is still there. I grimace when I feel it, and then look up to find Michael standing in the doorway carrying a breakfast tray just watching me.
“See, Michael? I kept her in bed, just like you told me to!”
“You did great, Emily. There’s breakfast downstairs for you and your brothers.”
Emily hurries out of the room with an excited shout still carrying her favorite stuffed bunny with her.
“Good morning.” Michael gives me a sly smile, brings the tray over, and sits down on the bed beside me.
“Good morning.” My shyness comes unbidden. I’m mesmerized by this man and his generosity and beholden to this amazing sensation between us. “How did you manage to get outside?”
“I went and got coffee and Emily was kind enough to let me back in. No sense getting her confused, right now. I think Robert and Carrie are busy enough doing that.” I nod.
“Thank you, Michael. It…it means everything to me.”
“You mean everything to me, Ellen Kay.” Then, he shows me just how much.
≈≈
The nurse at Dr. Liston’s office draws blood from my arm. I have already given a lot of blood this morning and I am, somewhat, disconcerted as to why we’re doing it again.
“More tests,” the nurse says in a non-committal, unhelpful voice.
Michael has gone on to his medical office. I’m to meet him there, when I’m finished here.
I’m still reeling a bit from the earlier conversation with Dr. Liston, who is now as worried as Michael about the fact that my left arm is still sore so many weeks after this simple lumpectomy was performed.
I’ve already reconciled that the lumpectomy may have been simple, but not enough. And, now it appears that the x-rays they’ve done this morning might show something else, though no one has taken the time to tell me what that means. I know it means something, but no one is willing to tell me what exactly. I’m tired, now.
Waiting is not my strongest virtue. My mother used to say this. Today, I would welcome a visit from my mother, who resides in a retirement community in the land of the sun. Even though my life has gotten beyond complicated and all she would do is ask me too many questions about it, today, I would welcome her high-pitched voice and raised eyebrows, while I’d inevitably use the word, fuck, too often in a sentence. I miss my mom this day. I could use the company and the distraction.
The nurse comes back and tells me that I can get dressed. I do this in about three minutes flat, now anxious to leave this claustrophobic space where my mind has too much time to wallow with fear and the unknown. The nurse returns and escorts me to Dr. Liston’s office; I’m surprised to see Michael. I smile at him, grateful for his presence and slide into the chair next to him opposite Dr. Josh Liston.
“So?” I say with a soft tone. “What’s going on?”
“We’ve been going over your charts and the x-rays, Ellie,” Dr. Liston says. His face is somewhat bleak and I’m taken aback by it.
In the next ten seconds, Michael is taking my hand and I look at him for a moment, trying to discern what’s happening from the look on his face, but all he does is give me this measured reassuring smile. But there’s something in his eyes that I see before he looks away. In the next instant, I realize what it is,
fear
.
“Tell me,” I say.
“Well, the lumpectomy looked promising. The margins looked good; an indication we got all the cancerous cells,” Dr. Liston says. “However, the latest films indicate the possibility of something. We need to go back and take a look. With that procedure, we’ll remove any cancerous-looking cells, ensure the margins are clear and do more radiation and add chemotherapy to the regimen as well. We need to go back in and take a look at the lymph nodes. But, there’s…more.” He takes a deep breath and gets this wan smile. “Ellie, you’re pregnant. We just picked this up in one of the routine tests we did this morning.”
“
What
? How is that possible? Robert had a vas…” I turn to Michael. “How is this possible? I thought you were...? Dr. Liston, can I have a moment with Michael, please?” I ask in this faraway voice. My heart pounds away in my chest.
The room goes silent, when Dr. Liston leaves. The only thing I hear is Michael’s jagged breathing. I’m dry-eyed and there is no explanation for that. Normally, I cry at everything
—
sad movies, love stories, anything to do with Lassie or Golden Retrievers,
babies
.
“Michael, is this
possible
?”
“I don’t know,” he says in an unsteady voice. “Carrie…could never conceive with me. That’s why we used a sperm donor for Elaina. But, Ellie, you have to have the chemo, you can’t keep this baby.”
“What? No. Michael. No. We have to keep this baby. It’s a miracle.” These competing emotions of joy and fear run through me at an accelerated rate.
“Ellie. This is your life we’re talking about. We have to do
everything
to fight the cancer. This baby is a complication we don’t need. Can’t you see that?”
I’m surprised by his dire tone. He’s emphatic already as if we’re not even going to discuss this, so different from Robert where we always talked everything through.
“Michael, this baby is a miracle. Can’t you see that?” I watch his face. It remains impassive and unmoving at my words. Anger begins to stir inside of me. I’m pregnant. I’m having a baby. It’s a miracle. It’s a sign of what path I need to take. Why can’t he see that? Why doesn’t he understand what this baby could mean? To me? To us? I move away from him as he reaches for me.
“Ellie, we have to stay focused on treating your cancer.”
“No.” I stand at the other side of the room and fold my arms across my chest. I lift my head in defiance and stare at him.
Dr. Josh Liston returns and takes his formidable position behind his desk. I retake my chair. Michael remains standing.
“First things first,” I say only to Josh. “You want to go back and look at the margins around the lumpectomy and the lymph nodes.”
“Yes.”
“Okay, when can we do that? And, I’ll just do a local, no general anesthesia.” Michael is out of his chair saying
no,
as I finish.
“
Yes
,” I say. “Michael, we have to keep all our options open and do what’s best for this baby
—
our baby
.” I give Dr. Liston a wide smile. He nods in this helpless, charming way at me.
“I’ll get you scheduled first thing for Friday morning. We’ll do it as an outpatient procedure and no general.”
“Great, thank you, Dr. Liston,” I say.
“I’m scrubbing in, Josh,” Michael says from beside me. I can sense his tension just sitting next to him. I’m tempted to look over at him, but know he might mess with my resolve about all of this. I’m reeling from all the implications sounding brave, but feeling scared and elated all at the same time. My hormones seem to have taken off like a bottle rocket, since I learned I was pregnant ten minutes ago.
“Do you really think that’s a good idea, Michael?” Josh asks.
“Probably not, but, I’m doing it anyway.”
“Okay.” I hear the audible sigh of frustration from Josh Liston.
It matches the mood of all three of us, perfectly, for very different reasons.
≈≈
It is after six at night on Wednesday. I’m back at Michael’s medical office, where he is drawing my blood himself. Elaina is with Emily and Mathew at my house. Nick will be coming home from basketball practice in the next half hour with pizza for all of them. Day ninety at the Bradford house for pizza.
We must be setting some kind of world record. Emily is busy telling me about her day as I hold the cell phone to my right ear, while Michael draws blood from my left.
“So, what did you do when got the word,
giraffe,
right, Em?”
She tells me that she took a bow and sat down. I am laughing now. Michael is looking at me with a half-smile. “Hey, baby, I have to go. Michael is helping me with some tests. We’ll be home soon. I love you.” I hang up the cell phone and look at him.
“The most precocious child I know,” I say. Michael can only nod at me.
He sighs and gives me a studied look. “Okay, we’re all done. I had Stephanie wait around, so she can take these directly to the lab. I’ve asked them to a put a rush on them.”
“What kind of tests are we doing?”
“Just the standard genetic stuff, Ells,” Michael says with a shrug.
“As in paternity?”
“No. These are just the ones for genetic markers that we would normally do. Some of them are little early. I can test for paternity if you want me to.”
“Well, unless you can tell me for certain that a vasectomy can fail after almost five years; there’s no point.”
“Highly unlikely, but possible.”
“This baby is yours, I can feel it,” I say. “God, one time with you; and you knock me up.”
“Ellie,” Michael says in this weary voice.
We have gone round and round about this baby already. He looks troubled, as if, this, alone, will change my mind.
I remain steadfast and resolute about keeping this baby. He shakes his head, picks up the blood samples, and leaves the room without another word to me.
I’m disappointed with his response. He is obviously unhappy with mine.
Last night’s lovemaking session and the melding of our future seem like a long time ago. Today, our newfound relationship is already being tested in ways I couldn’t have even imagined yesterday.
I’m putting on my jacket when he returns.
“Let’s go home,” he says.
Just like that with his engaging smile he builds a bridge back to me. I smile up at him, move in closer and with my good arm pull him to me and kiss him.
“I like the sound of that,” I say with a little laugh.
A half hour late, we’re sitting in his Lexus, Seattle side, waiting for the ferry back to Bainbridge. “What are you doing this weekend?” Michael looks over at me with this thoughtful expression on his face and slowly smiles.
“I don’t know,” I say slowly, and then grin. “Are you asking me
out
?”
“I’m asking you
out
,” he says with a laugh. “I have a surprise for you, so don’t make any other plans.”
“I don’t like surprises. You
know
this,” I say, getting a little anxious at the secretive smile on his face, but Michael seems intent on ignoring this known fact about me.
“It’s a good surprise,” he says.
“We’ll see,” I say with a tight smile.
Once on the ferry, we elect to stay in his SUV. I watch the gorgeous white foamy waves of Puget Sound run past, while Michael watches me.
A few minutes later, I slide over to his side of the car and lean back against his chest while his arms close around me. He brushes my hair aside and begins kissing my neck. I can’t help but respond to him.
A secret mission forms in my mind to learn more about his surprise. I climb onto his lap and maneuver myself between him and the steering wheel.
“Are you going to tell me the surprise?” I ask after few seductive moments.
I lift my head from his lips and stare intently at his handsome face and smile.
“Are you trying to seduce me, Ellen Kay? I’m not telling you the surprise even if you do have your way with me on this ferry ride,” Michael says with a laugh. “You’ll have to wait and see.”
