Sound Bites: A Rock & Roll Love Story (23 page)

After returning from the bathroom, I handed her the cup and she proceeded to plug some more information into her computer.

“Do you have any allergies to medication?”

“No.”

“Are you on any medication?”

“No.”

“What was the date of your last menstrual cycle?”

I paused, trying to recap on the past month. Between the apartment hunting, band management and my boyfriend skipping town, I couldn’t remember yesterday, let alone the date of my last period.

“I think it was right around a month ago,” I lied, at which point she typed up a few more notes, then left the room.

I skimmed through the latest copy of
Prevention Magazine
until I was greeted by Doctor Bailey’s mile-wide goofy grin. He was a tall, lanky guy with gray hair, a red bulbous nose and a handlebar mustache. He reminded me of Luigi from Super Mario Brothers. I’d been going to him ever since I was a teenager and I loved him, not only because he was super nice, but because he handed out Percocet like candy.

He rambled on for a few minutes about my bladder infection symptoms, asking me if I felt uncomfortable pressure, etc. Then his normally buoyant expression dimmed as he asked me the same question that the nurse already had. “Renee, when was your last menstrual cycle?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. About a month ago. Why?”

His lips pursed together as he glanced down at his clipboard. “Well, we ran your urine for pregnancy and the test came back positive, so that’s most likely the cause of your infection. A lot of pregnant women tend to be more prone to infections. So I have to be careful about what type of medicine I prescribe to you because…”

“Wait, I’m sorry,
what?
” I shrieked. My heart felt like it was being attacked with a hammer. “Are you sure?”

He nodded. “The tests are about ninety-nine percent accurate. So, I have to be careful of what type of medication I prescribe you because I can’t give you anything that might harm the baby. Unfortunately, I’m going to have to prescribe you a weak antibiotic like Amoxicillin because that won’t cause any side effects.”

I had stopped listening as soon as I heard the word positive. The rest of the words that came out of the doctor’s mouth sounded like a muffled humming noise, up until I heard him say
that might harm the baby.
The baby? I was going to have a baby?

This isn’t happening, I thought to myself. Dylan and I aren’t even on speaking terms right now. And even worse, he’d probably think David was the father.

I cupped my hands over my mouth and lowered my head in between my knees. When I sat upright again, Doctor Bailey was staring at the floor like he wanted to evaporate through the cracks.

“Do you need a minute?” he asked with a concerned expression. “Do you want to call the father?”

The
father
. Oh my God. Dylan was going to be a father.

I shook my head as the room started to spin. I had to get out of there as fast as I could. I felt like the walls were closing in on me.

“I’m fine,” I lied. “Just give me the prescription so I can go. I have some phone calls to make.”

***

“Beth, what the hell am I going to do?” I yelled, pacing around my room in circles.

“Wait, how did this happen? Aren’t you on the pill?”

“I was,” I said hesitantly. “But I’ve been so preoccupied with apartment hunting and Dylan’s gigs that I haven’t renewed it in…” I considered. A month? Two months? It was hard to remember.

“And you still haven’t heard from him?” she asked.

I sighed, withholding an eye roll. Beth always asked obvious questions. She was one of those people that would see you wearing a red shirt and say, “Oh, you’re wearing red tonight?”

“Beth, don’t you think I would’ve told you if I’d heard from him?”

“Sorry. Stupid question.”  A pause. “But maybe… this will bring the two of you of you closer. I mean, once he cools off and you can explain the truth about David, he might be psyched.”

“Or not,” I mumbled. “What if he doesn’t want to have it? Or what if he doesn’t believe me and he thinks its David’s?”

“Renee, he knows you better than that. Just give him time. He’ll come around.”

I shut my eyes tight. “Christ, even if he did want to have it, I’m not ready for a kid.”

“Oh come on, isn’t that what every girl wants?” Beth asked. “A nice guy to settle down with… a family…”

“Not me! I never wanted that!” It was true. I was the only creature with a vagina who would duck if someone ever tried to hand me a baby. I was too selfish to be responsible for someone else’s life. And plus, I didn’t know the first thing about being a parent. What do you feed it? How often do you feed it? What if I dropped it? I threw myself down on my bed and buried my head in the pillow.

“Listen, before you give yourself a heart attack, you need to talk to Dylan. Think, Renee. You know Dylan better than anyone. If you were him in this situation, where would you go?”

And in that instant, I knew exactly where to go.

***

The jetty was much harder to walk on in the dark. At least during the day, you could differentiate the sharp rocks from the flat ones. I stepped slowly and steadily onto each one, struggling to keep my balance, until I reached the bridge.

As predicted, perched on the edge, was Dylan. His feet dangled over the side as he took a handful of pebbles and tossed them into the water, one by one, as if he had all the time in the world. Even though I’d had my suspicions that he’d be her
e, the actual sight of him stopped
my heart. I found my
self at a loss for
words, not knowing where to begin or how to gauge his reaction to what I was about to lay on him.

“So you found me.” He didn’t even look up as he spoke, stonefaced, his voice a monotone. It was as if he’d just sensed my presence. “I figured you would sooner or later.”

“Dylan, we have to talk.” I inched slowly toward him, not knowing whether or not to sit next to him or remain standing. But as soon as he turned to face me, I knew my only option was the latter. The cold, distant look in his eyes told me I wasn’t going to have much time.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he said, in a voice that sounded detached from his body. Each syllable was
spoken in the same solemn tone
that matched his eyes, lifeless, almost cruel. Hurt and anger combined with emotional exhaustion.

“Please,” I begged. “I know what you think happened, but the truth is, it’s nothing even close to what’s going through your head right now.”

He laughed, a patronizing laugh. “You don’t have a clue what’s going through my head right now,” he said. “But since you came here to talk, I’ll gladly explain it to you.” He stood up, his face inches from mine. I could smell whiskey on his breath.

“You want to know what’s going through my head?” he continued. “You want to know how I felt when I saw that
fucking
guy coming out of your apartment?” His eyes narrow
ed into slits. “I felt like my goddamn
heart had been ripped out of my chest. I can’t even close my eyes for a split second without seeing that image of you two together in my head and wondering how the
hell
I ever could’ve let this happen.”

“Nothing happened!” My voice was rising, and I could feel tears forming in the corner of my eyes. “You have to believe me, I swear to you…”

“Believe you?” He attempted to laugh again, but it came off as more of a half-sob. “Let me ask you something. If I insisted on sleeping at my place without you, and you saw my ex-girlfriend strolling out of my apartment at the crack of dawn, would
you
believe
me
? Because I’d have to be a
n absolute
idiot to listen to anything coming out of your mouth right now.”

“Dylan, he just showed up
. I had no idea…”

“And you let him in? You let him spend the night?”

“Yes… no.” I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “Yes I let him in, but I passed out before…”

“I can’t.” His head hung down, shoulders slumped, eyes trained on the
ground
. “I can’t do this.”

“Why can’t you just let me explain?”

“Because I don’t know what to believe.”

I paused, debating on whether or not to continue. “Dylan, there’s something else. Something I need to tell you.”

Before I could continue, his back was already facing me, his outline growing smaller as he stepped down from the bridge. “Renee, I’m sorry, but I just can’t. I’ll have your stuff to you by the end of the week.”

And with that, he was gone.

Chapter
22

Beth’s apartment looked like the studio set for a Fleetwood Mac documentary. There was an overabundance of moon shaped candles, opium scented incense, trippy tapestries, and a collection of vintage concert posters covering the walls. But even with all the zen aura surrounding me, I still felt like I’d had the life sucked out of me.

Note to self: all the voodoo tricks in the world can’t heal the brokenhearted.

I moved out of my apartment building immediately after Dylan returned, unable to handle the constant daily reminders of him. Even the little things made me ache, the sight of his van in the driveway, the songs flowing from his apartment through my vents. The constant urge to watch out my window or show up at his door, just to catch a glimpse of him. It was too much weight on my heart.

However, I did have one permanent reminder of him that wasn’t going away anytime soon.

I was officially six weeks pregnant, and the roller coaster hormones did absolutely nothing for my heartache. I barely ate or slept. I just went through the daily motions like a walking zombie. Even small daily tasks seemed impossible. All I wanted was to curl up in Beth’s hippie-covered futon and cry for something that was once my life.

Beth was trying. She came home from work every day with something new to cheer me up, baby books, ice cream, prenatal yoga videos. Today it was a “Pure Moods” CD that she thought would be soothing.

“All this negative energy can’t be good for the baby,” she insisted, lighting the end of a Nag Champa stick. “I know breakups are hard, but he’s just upset right now. Give him some time, and then talk to him once he’s calmed down.”

“He doesn’t want to talk to me,” I mumbled bitterly. “I tried, remember?”

“Yeah, but he’s still angry and hurt. You’ve got to give it a few weeks so he has time to process everything and isn’t acting out of emotion.”

I knew she was right, I just didn’t know how much longer I could take this empty feeling inside. I could feel myself drifting further from reality the longer I was without Dylan. A part of me was missing and I needed it back.

***

When eight weeks pregnant hit, I had officially eaten all the canned food in Beth’s house, ran out of sick days and was forced to go back to work. I found out my due date was February 10
^th
, an Aquarius baby, Beth informed me with a pleased smile, handing me her astrology book. We had also gone through baby names for each sex, even though I felt cheated because this was something I should’ve been doing with Dylan. I opted for Evan and Olivia, and Beth threw out some wacked out bohemian names like Lola and Ziggy. I sometimes wondered if I had met Beth at a non-prepubescent age if we
still
would’ve been friends.