Cold Coffee

Bad News

I was in the delivery room, waiting for my precious child to come. I was already dilated 3 inches, and have been in the delivery room for over an hour. The pain was increasing and very excruciating. It's a good thing I was well prepared this time since I've already been through this before with my son, Jordan. Who just turned 3 years old this year in July and had a huge -- unnecessary -- birthday party that my mother had put together. I honestly don't get the point in throwing birthday parties for babies and toddlers because they will never remember it, but I guess it's just some memories that the parents will enjoy, even though his dad was not able to come home that day. The only difference between giving birth to Jordan and now giving birth to Heather -- that's the name we picked out for our new addition -- was that my husband, Will, short for William, was in Afghanistan, fighting for our country. I was very proud of him, but at the moment I was feeling very selfish and wanted him here desperately. Heck, who am I kidding? I'm always feeling selfish because I always want him with me. Neither less, he wanted to be here also. He has been in the military going on for three years now. Before he was in the military he was just an ole goober who had a warming heart. Now, that he can bench around 400 lb., has very large muscles everywhere on his body and has two tattoos, one for each arm--one that has a serpent, and the other with a military logo that I don't quite understand-- he looks very intimidating. Will and I were High school sweethearts and fell in love at such a young age. People thought we would never last, now I am 20 and he is 21 and we are happily married with, almost, two children.

"Oh, honey, you look so tired!", my mother, Pamela, came bursting into the door. She's always melodramatic about EVERYTHING.

"I'm fine. I've been through this before. Remember Jordan? Speaking of which, how is he?" I replied, wrinkling my brow.

"He's fine, honey. He fell asleep in the waiting room with your father." She said, I smiled. Dad has always been one of those lazy, old school guys.

"The doctor said that they might have to give you some more medication to speed this delivery up a bit." She added as well, with a worried expression.

"I'm going to be just fine, mom." I said as I touched her arm, reassuring her.

"I'm not worried about that..", she said pulling away, looking at the door.

"Then what is the matter?" I said, searching my mind for anything that must have went wrong. I almost had a mini heart attack thinking something was wrong with the baby when she spoke up.

"There are two gentlemen who want to talk to you about something. I told them that you were going into labor but they said it can't wait till after you delivery because they have to be on their way.", she said. I heard her sniffle.

"Well then, send them right in. I'm sure it's nothing to worry about.", I said, trying to reassure her even though I was having a mini anxiety attack. I've never really felt so much tension through my mother.

As she slowly walked to the door and I saw her motion someone to come in. I heard footsteps coming closer, and the anxiety deepened. Then my mother slipped out and two men in military uniform came in, holding something in their hands, but I wasn't concentrating on that. At first I thought one of them was Will, but it wasn't. They were both tall, very muscular, and both had crew cuts with hats on top of their heads. It reminded me so much of Will that I nearly cried, but I sniffled up the urge and sat up, wincing in pain as another contraction came through, but it was just a small one and was gone the next three seconds.

"Miss, we have some very bad news...", one man said in a very formal voice, as if he rehearsed this many times. They both removed their hats, revealing their clean crew cut and bringing out their eyes a little. Their eyes were both filled with agony or pain, as if they have witnessed something very bad in their past.

That's what I like about peoples eyes. You could tell a life story, just by looking into someones eyes. Like for Will, sometimes when hes here and its early in the morning, way before the sun even comes up, he would sit down in the dining room table, closest to the window and just stare out in agony, as if he was remembering bad memories. I always assume its something to do with war, and he never catches me watching him doing that. I would stand still and just watch his facial expressions and watch him wince in agony, then I would just walk away because I hate seeing him like that. I never ask him about it either. Then when he plays with Jordan, or we are on a date alone, his eyes are filled with happiness, like nothing was ever wrong, and nothing will ever be wrong.

The other man closed the door very carefully, as if going in slow motion. Everything went in slow motion after that actually. They both came closer and put the stuff that they had in their hands on the hospital blanket, right on my lap. I looked at them, really concentrating on them at first. I picked up the first thing that caught my eye. A photograph. The photograph of my beloved husband. I knew what was coming next, but I wanted to actually hear it. To actually know for sure that my mind wasn't playing tricks on me.

"What is all this for?" I asked. I felt a tear escape my eye, and quickly wiped it away as if it was never there.

"Your husband, William Phil Ryals, recently died in an accidental bombing..." He opened his mouth to say something else but then the realization hit me. Hit me hard.

I screamed bloody murder. Tears were streaming down my face, that I didn't even know were there. Everything became blurry, everything became distant.

I felt a new burning hole in my chest. It was like my heart was shattering in a million different pieces. This couldn't be happening. Not now. Not ever... I didn't plan for this. I didn't want this.

Before I realized it the two guys in uniform were being rushed out by two doctors that appeared from thin air, it felt like. Nurses and doctors were surrounding me as I was still screaming and yelling. The doctors were yelling orders at the others. It took ten nurses to hold me down. I didn't stop screaming once. The entire state of Tennessee probably heard me.

"She just dilated 7 more inches. It's time.", I heard one doctor yell over my screams of pain and desperation.

3 weeks later

I was sitting alone in my mothers room, looking out the window and just letting my mind wonder. I knew it wasn't good for me to wonder, but I did it anyways. It was Thanksgivings day and all my family awaited down stairs for me to come down so that we could start eating the big beast that was brought before them. I didn't want to eat, or socialize for that matter. Will would have come home a week ago, but he wasn't here, nor will he ever come home again. I just couldn't help but sit there and think about him, about how happy he would be to come home from leave and see his new child. I tried to shake the thoughts away, but they wouldn't leave my mind.

I sat there and cried for the next five minutes, then I finally went into the bathroom and cleaned my face off and applying a little foundation to cover up the redness and dark circles around my eyes that were from crying and not sleeping regularly. I slowly descended the stairs, hearing people talking, and little kids running around. When I finally approached some people, there were few smiles, but most people didn't even look my way, trying to avoid me. I walked towards my mother, whose back was towards me, and she was talking to other women. I was just about to tap on her shoulder when I heard her say my name.

"Oh, that Savannah, she is so devastated without her husband. A little too devastated if you ask me. She barely even talks to her own children anymore. She will just sit there, with a blank expression, her eyes filled with tears. She leaves me to do all the dirty work like shopping, cleaning, taking care of the children. Its so ridiculous!", my mother said with her high pitched voice.

I felt my eyes fill with tears again, and when I sniffled my mother heard me and turned towards me. I could barely see her face through the blurriness of the tears in my eyes, but I could see the outline of horror.

That was the last time I saw my mother, or the rest of my family for that matter. After that, I quickly searched for my children, my mother chasing me, pleading me to stay and that she didn't mean to say what she said. I didn't listen to her, I just toke my children and left without a word.

I felt like I was on the run. I speed to my own house, gathered essential things such as clothes, food, toys for the children, and Will's things. After that, I left the town, then soon afterward I left the state. I changed our last names also and threw away my old credit cards and debit cards and bought new ones that way no one could find us.

A few months later, I found myself living in New York City.