Sylvia

Chapter Eleven: Sylvia

Finals week is upon me, so this is going to be a touch shorter than usual. I sincerely hope you are enjoying this story and everything Sylvia has to offer! Much love!

"Will you please stop fidgeting?" I shoot Karen a look, crossing my arms as I look around the sterile clinic with a frown. Something about it makes me entirely too nervous.

"Sorry, Sylv, I'm just nervous is all."

"Don't be, you don't need to be." I sigh, straightening my skirt.

She gives me a downright mean look, facing the door the nurses are calling from, and I roll my eyes. Since we got here she's been more than riled up, and equally nervous.

"Karen Hill?" A nurse calls from the doorway, and I give Karen's hand a squeeze despite her catty attitude.

I watch her disappear, her hands fumbling nervously as she does. I can tell how shaky she is just by looking at how the bottom of her dress trembles.

The clock on the wall ticks slowly, and I wish I could be anywhere but sitting in this pink office. Most gals who walk in look like trash from Grease territory. I can't even bring myself to think about why they've come all this way.

I busy myself with a magazine, trying to look small under all the judgmental stares coming from behind the desk that sits against one of the walls.

What seems like hours later Karen comes back out the door. Nodding at me she leads me towards the door. I follow behind quickly completely unsure of what to say to her.

"Well, it's official, I'm pregnant." she finally states, she's proper out of emotions, and she stares blankly at the street ahead of us.

"So?" I question, wondering why she's telling me something the both of us already know.

"And I'm getting it out of me. The Doctor told me about a Doc that practices out of Broken Arrow. He trades favors for getting rid of it."

My heart clenches, and I feel my stomach turn over at even the thought. I can't imagine what it must be like.

"Don't look at me like I'm the worst person you've ever met." Karen mutters, still looking ahead of us like the world around her don't exist.

"Are you sure Kare, I mean, there's still options." I can't help but feel even more ill as what she has said really sinks into my soul.

"I ain't got any other options Sylvia, don't you go trying to understand it."

Karen starts down the road towards the bus, and I follow silently behind her, mulling over her decision in my head. We ain't gotta wait long on the bus, it practically comes as soon as we hit the stop, and the driver opens the door quickly, letting us in and out of the wind.

"I'm real sorry, Sylvia, I know you ain't ever gonna approve of this." Karen finally whispers as we avoid the greaser guys who mill around on the bus, already drunk for so early in the night.

"I'm sorry too." I sigh, looking out the window and watching the houses and buildings pass by us.

. . .

"So she's just gonna get rid of it?" Dallas asks, rummaging through his drawers trying to find me something he's been waiting to show me all week.

"Yeah." I murmur, watching Dal's bare back. His muscles flex and tighten handsomely as he searches.

"Man, a baby." he whistles out again, "Damn, it's a good decision though. Nobody needs a little brat running around here."

I gasp, over reacting to his statement, but I can't help but feel disgusted by his opinion.

"So if I was pregnant you'd want me to trade some favors to get rid of it and then just go back to life like it never happened?" my voice raises quite a few octaves, and again I feel sick about the whole ordeal.

"Well one, you ain't ever gonna get pregnant, condoms, man, and two, I'd just beat the guy until he got it out of ya." he tosses a shirt at me, still searching like a mad man through what must be dozens of things in one tiny drawer.

"Oh." is all I can manage to stammer out, and he turns to face me.

"Aw, hell, you don't want a baby right, because we're gonna have to talk if you do." he sighs, leaning back on the dresser, and I know I should be thinking of anything else, but all I can think of is how handsome he is.

"No, I just ain't gonna kill one either." I sniff, trying my hardest to look away from him.

"Hey, we don't have to think about it now. I think we ought to focus on the real problems here." Dallas jumps onto the bed next to me, automatically pulling me close to him.

I cuddle in, looking up to him with wide eyes.

"Like Danny?" I ask, rubbing my arm self consciously. He grabbed me real hard this afternoon after I wasn't there to make him lunch. He's been upset since I told him he ain't gotta be dad. Since then he's even managed to turn Charlie away from me.

Dad hasn't really been home for a while now. Often he sleeps at the shop in his little office on a beat up couch to save time and money on an extra bed for him at the house. I think he really just doesn't want to face us. He's always said I remind him too much of her, a compliment that hurts real bad.

"Yeah like him. He didn't hurt you again, did he?" his hands trace up my sides, grabbing the hem of my shirt to look at a fading bruise he left about a week ago. It's finally turned to a real ugly shade of yellow that looks more of jaundice than injury.

I just stay real quiet, and pretend to be really interested in the scars that litter Dal's knuckles.

"Sylvie, he didn't hurt you again, did he?" Dallas asks again, more forcefully this time, and I shrink into him, knowing he won't hurt me, but he won't be gentle either.

"It was my fault." I try to cover for Danny.

"Damn it. I'll fucking kill him." he growls, checking me over until he finds the bruise.

"Dal, I can handle it. I can handle him." I plead, trying desperately to keep him next to me and not off killing Danny on account of his temper.

"One more time, Juliet. He's got one more time, and then I'll teach him a lesson he ain't gonna forget for a lifetime." I can tell Dallas is angry, so I don't push him any farther choosing to wait and handle it when I absolutely have to instead of now.

"Yeah, okay." I whisper, trailing my hand gently over his chest and up to his chin.

I force him to look right at me, watching as his eyes stare deep into my soul and his face slowly breaks out into a grin.

"You got me." I whisper, rolling over so my lips can reach his.

My lips capture his, and all our differences fae like the sun outside. I can feel his chest rumble with a chuckle, and I gently smile into the kiss.

He pulls away, stroking back some of my hair with a kind hand, and reminding me of why I'm so sweet on him.

"And you got me." he murmurs, pressing a sweet kiss to my forehead.

I stay in place, sprawled across his chest, and try to find some peace despite the party raging into the night downstairs.

Somewhere along the way, between the gentle stroke of his hand down my spine, or  the rhythmic beat of his heart against my cheek, I all into a slumber deeper than life itself.