I'm Not Dead

Chapter Seventeen

"Are you comfortable?" I asked Laura as she sat down on her couch. Lately we've been over at her house more and more. She's almost seven weeks and we have to stay in for Halloween.

So a little bit about what's been going on with me:

Helliot is hated. The churches have the town convinced that I am some sort of demon-Satan hybrid. It's pretty intense. I can't really leave the house. Which sucks. There are people who will camp out in our yard and egg the house and hold up signs that claim that someone should kill me before I kill the town. It's all kind of ridiculous.

So I was hoping that I'd be able to go out to Halloween parties and wear a mask and get drunk and high and do my thing but I can't leave.

And Laura can't drink and get high.

So instead we're here watching cheesy horror movies with Theo (oh, we told Theo).

He's drinking. I'm not. If Laura can't drink, neither can I.

(At least around her.)

This fucking sucks.

Two wonderful weeks later and we go in for an ultra sound. I am not allowed in the room. So while Laura and her mother find the heartbeat I am stuck twiddling my thumbs. Laura comes out, smiling. "It's there."

I wish she's stop calling him an it. I'm just sure our child will be a boy.

Laura and I walked to the car faster than her mother who was on the phone. We were at least ten paces ahead of her, each step growing further apart.

"Why couldn't I come in with you?"

Laura looked down at her shoes. "Elliot, it's complicated."

"No, Laura, it's not. I show up for the doctor's appointments and I come along for the ultra sounds and everything. But still it's like I'm not a part of this, Laura."

"Elliot you don't get it."

"Yeah, you're right. I don't get it. Maybe it would help it you tried to help me understand it." I stopped walking. Laura crossed her arms over her chest.

"God, Elliot, quit making me feel so fucking bad!"

Laura's mother hurried over to us, hanging up her phone. "What's going on?"

Laura turned away from the both of us. "Can we just go?"

"Laura we should talk about this. Why can't I be there to hear my child's heartbeat? Help me understand why!" I followed Laura towards her car.

"Elliot, just get off my back!"

"Dammit, Laura!"

"Hey! Both of you!" Laura's mom shouted. "Just calm down. Let's get Laura back home and out of the cold."

I looked at Laura's pale face. The tip of her nose had started to turn pink. Wind blew and started to whip the tips of her hair that stuck out of her hat. She did look cold.

"Fine." I said.

"Fine." Laura spat.

After the thing with Laura, Mom suggested getting a lawyer. I hated this idea, and the thought that it's become so hard to get along with someone who I love so dearly. Laura and I argue and fight almost always about something. And we haven't even discussed names yet. Laura wants to stick with something in her family, and I respect that, but I'm worried she'll get so caught up with family names so won't listen to my suggestions.

Mom's probably right, though. We need a lawyer. That just seems so harsh. Dad agrees with me. Which is weird.

"He'll need a room."

"Why do you think it'll be a he?" Laura asked as I picked her up from school. Her car broke down this week. More time that we get to spend together, even though I'm sure that's the last thing we need.

I shrug. "It's just a gut feeling."

"We won't know for another few weeks," Laura said. "But do we want to know? Or do we want to be surprised?"

"I want to know."

"Okay. We'll know."

I missed the turn for Laura's house. "Elliot, where are you taking me?" She didn't sound worried, at least not yet.

"Laura, we're too stressed. You especially. First trimester is important. We're going to buy paint. Blue paint—slightly gender natural—and we are going to paint a nursery."

I glanced over and saw Laura smile ever so slightly.

Laura's house has a guest bedroom that was for her brother before he moved out. Since then it's served as a rarely used guest room. It will now be our child's room.

First Laura and I called Theo and Theo called Genevieve and together the four of us—despite how much I hate Gen—worked together to clear out the guest room, leaving the empty dresser and some of the furniture but ditching the bed.

"So," Gen said, smiling at Laura. "Why are we doing this?"

Right. Because Gen doesn't know. She doesn't know that Laura is pregnant. She doesn't need to know.

I shot a look at Theo.

Laura shrugged. "It needed new paint."

We tarped everything and taped everything and cracked open the gallons and started to paint, covering the dark olive with a light Robbin's egg blue.

Laura's mother, Rebekka, peeked in. "Honey, this will be perfect for him."

"Mom," Laura said.

Rebekka smiled and hugged Laura. "You're doing such a good job. I'm so proud of you."

"Mom," Laura protested. "You're not proud of me."

Theo and Gen left the room, and frankly I wanted to too. But I was partly responsible for this. I stepped a little closer. "Laura," I said, almost condescending. No, that's not the right word.

"You're right, Laura, I'm not proud. I wish that this was all happening a couple years from now. But it's happening now. And I'm proud of how well you're dealing with it. Because this isn't easy. You're lucky you've got such a great guy like Elliot here to support you."

Laura sniffed, then smiled. "He is pretty great."

I smiled.