Why?

XVI

September 1998
The next few days were uncomfortable, but I realised that my mother had simply forced the inevitable a little sooner than I'd have liked. Me and Lindsey did not eat together or talk except when absolutely necessary. He spent most of his time out of the house, but I didn't know where. Glancing at the Calendar Karen had pinned up beside the fridge, I realised my next doctor's appointment was scheduled for the following morning. It was almost the witching hour, and I was sure everyone else was probably asleep, but Lindsey's sleep schedule was erratic. He was better at it than me of course, but stress or creativity often swung the pendulum one way or the other for him, and I had noticed him looking tired. Irked that Karen had not reminded me to earlier, I set an alarm, praying I wouldn't sleep through it. I lay tossing and turning for a long time, throwing off the sheets as I became hot and bothered. Remembering the location of my music player downstairs, I crept back down, quietly rifling through the top drawer of a kitchen counter. Finally locating it, along with earphones and the cassette I sought, I pushed it shut and looked up. "Christ!" I gasped, dropping the cassette on the hard tiles, Lindsey surprising me in the doorway.
"Sorry!" he whispered hurriedly, yawning as he dashed to pick up the tape for me, a conflict of responses battling within me as I looked down his body, nothing concealed from me but for where he wore a pair of boxers.
"Goodnight," I bid him flatly, refusing to look into his eyes that were so bright in the moonlight, walking away before he could try and strike up conversation. I was not about to play around like everything was OK; the images and sounds of what he'd done intruding my thoughts whenever I heard breath leave his lips, or my eyes met his body. The brief panic of the situation must've worn away at me, and luckily I fell to sleep rather quickly as I left the cassette on my nightstand, being too tired to torture myself with song lyrics.

Karen came to wake me minutes before the alarm I'd already set, finding my mom and Lindsey discussing the news over the kitchen table. "Here," my mom pushed a plate of omelette over to me with some fruit, pouring me coffee.
"Thanks mom," I ate, bracing myself, avoiding his stare the entire time. Once finished, I addressed him. "I...Or...We, have a doctor's appointment this morning, did you want to...Come?"
"Of course, definitely, I can't wait."
Karen was still busy managing business, so me and Lindsey travelled to the hospital together, not speaking a word.

The doctor greeted us after an awkward ten minutes in the waiting room, gesturing for me to lie back on the bed as he fiddled with the screen.
"Sir, did you want to...?" The doctor waggled the tube of jelly at Lindsey and I froze.
"Um, I mean, I don't know how these things work y'know..."
"Nonsense Mr. Buckingham, you simply rub it over the skin," he placed the tube in Lindsey's palm, ordering me to hoist up my top to just below my bra. He tried to operate slowly, likely wishing avoid annoying me, but thusly rubbing it in a cruel parody of the sensual manner. The doctor told me when it was enough, taking Lindsey's place as he pulled to screen toward the bed, rolling the sensor over my little bump. "There she is!" He beamed, squinting at the monitor as Lindsey stood still beside me. I smiled for the first time in a while, feeling incredibly emotional, as he pointed out our daughter, her little legs kicking around on the screen. "I can't feel a thing!" I said in surprise, blinking back tears.
"You'll feel flutters, but the first kicks around 25 weeks I should guess. Today we'll be scanning to estimate the risks of Down's Syndrome, by examine the brain tissue. Like I said last time, your age makes the risk a little higher, but I'd say you probably don't have anything to worry about."
I released a sigh of relief once he gave her the all-clear.
"Mr.Buckingham do you have any questions?"
Lindsey had been almost silent throughout the appointment, and I turned to see him rubbing his bloodshot eyes.
"No, thank-you...I'm just so glad she's healthy. She's perfect to me already. Thank-you so much."
Walking out and past a vending machine of drinks, I realised how dry my throat felt. "Do you need a drink or something?" Lindsey asked, nodding toward the machine.
"Yeh I need some water, just one minute," I was unzipping my purse as he spoke.
"Don't be silly, let me." He whipped out his wallet before I could protest, purchasing a bottle of water and passing it to past me.
"Thank-you," I wrenched it open desperately swallowing half it down before I caught my breath. He smiled.
"Thirsty?"
"Yes. Real funny." He took the hint and we made our way back home after booking the next appointment, my stomach twisting itself as I wondered if he'd even be around to take me to it. As he turned the car our of the parking lot, he looked at the road.
"Stevie?"
"Uh huh."
"I...I'll be there. Always. For everything. This is our daughter."
"Of course. Yes."

After a long, hot bath, I walked past the room Lindsey was sleeping in, hearing a one-sided conversation and assuming he was on the phone.

"Yes Kit. Sure...A few more...Probably...Look I've got to go, I have work to do. Sleep well...Yes, me too."

He opened the door immediately after hanging up, making me jump.
"I was just, um, making a call."
"I heard."
"Was I loud? Sorry."
"Not really, I just walked past and heard...Her name."
"I'm sorry, she just...Called."
"Does she know you're with me?"
"No."
"Great. You're lying to her already."
"It's not like that...I...I can't tell her about this over the phone! She thinks I'm working on a record."
"You said you would be here! She's going to get suspicious sooner or later!"
"I will sort it! I made you a promise!"
"You promised me a lot of things Lindsey, this mess wasn't one of them."
"Stop yelling at me, stress is not going to help the situation, I can deal with my problems without you having to worry too."
"Wow, I'm so thankful you care about me so much," I sarcastically touched my heart with my fingertips.
"Of course I care about you. I..."
"Oh please Linds! Don't go there!" We stood awkwardly looking everywhere but at each other for a few moments.

"Stevie?" He asked as I now blazed with pent-up rage and sadness.
"Can I...? Feel her." He nodded at my stomach. I rolled my eyes,
"There's really not much to feel yet." He didn't move or agree with me, so I waved for him to stand closer where he kneeled, placing his large, warm hands over me, resting his ear against my belly button. My base instinct to caress him in return disappeared as my flashback brought tears to my eyes. "That's enough," I judged, and he stood up, sharing a grief-stricken expression with me.
"I'm sorry Steph."
"Mom is making lunch if you want some, I'm going for a nap."