Time To Waste

Chapter 24: Terminate

This had not gone as planned at all. Chris had been enjoying a relaxing day at home, working on some lyrics and e-mailing Rick while Jenna took a mid-afternoon nap. While he was humming quietly to himself, his cellphone rang, and it was of course the guitarist. Assuming that it was probably related to their e-mails back and forth about a new track, the working title of which was currently "Terminate," he answered the call and began to gab quietly from the kitchen.

It seemed like his bandmate was dancing around the subject, asking a bunch of pointless shit until he randomly spit out a question about the baby. Followed by another, then another. "Does she know what she's having yet?" he had asked timidly but curiously. His voice had softened, and he asked the question with a mixture of endearment and fearful curiosity.

Chris sighed. "So far, she wants to wait and be surprised. I keep telling her that it would be so much easier to know what colors to paint everything, what furniture to buy, but she's adamant that there are so few surprises left in life that we should enjoy this one."

There was a sigh on the end of the line, and then a moment of silence. "Have you told her yet?"

"Told her what?" Chris demanded, growing annoyed. Truth be told, if he had suspected that this call was anything other than "business", he wouldn't have taken it. He was feeling exhausted himself, and the last thing he wanted to do was to debate that fucking nightmare of an evening for the umpteenth time with his guitarist. In fact, he really just wanted that entire evening of his life to disappear into a void, to never be spoken of again. Ever.

Rick sighed again. "Man, come on. You know what I'm talking about, and I know that you haven't told her about Ryan. And we both know that immature asshole isn't going to own up and say shit to her, so YOU have to be the one to tell her." He heavily emphasized the "you" and groaned in his own annoyance. "Come on, Chris. She deserves the truth here. What's going to happen when the baby is born, they do the test, and God forbid, Ryan is the father? What are you going to tell her then as you run out the door and leave her?"

Chris' irritation grew at his best friend's accusations and he began to fidget where he sat. "Look, Rick. I don't think that what I do or do not tell MY girlfriend is any of YOUR concern." He emphasized words right back at his friend, spitting them through the line. "If I don't want her to know that Ryan could have knocked her up, then I won't fucking tell her. Do you hear me?"

Of course, Jenna had walked into the kitchen at that moment and heard his end of the conversation. Of fucking course. Before he could disconnect with Rick, she had flown up the stairs to their bedroom, and began stomping around and throwing things every which way. This had lead to a tear-filled packing binge, wherein she was currently trying to cram every piece of clothing that she owned into one of two duffle-bags.

Chris paced their bedroom slowly, watching as she continued to toss her clothing around the room. "Please don't do this, baby," he pleaded with tears in his brown eyes. "It was not supposed to happen like this!"

"LIKE WHAT?" she screamed, tossing items across the room and trying to hit him. "If I hadn't heard that call, I still wouldn't know, would I? You would probably never tell me! Fuck! What do I still not know about that fucking night? When does it end? When does the nightmare end and that night go away?"