Violets Are Blue

chapter 12: Abigail

I looked up from the toilet clenching my stomach. Another day of being pregnant, another day of waking up and spending thirty minutes in the bathroom with my head in the toilet. It didn’t bother me as much. I was already used to the smell of my own vomit. I washed off my face and put on a thick black sweater, with some loose fitting blue jeans, and comfortable walking shoes.
I looked at myself in the mirror on the way out. I lifted up my sweater and saw that my stomach was bigger than the last time I checked it. I needed to stop stalling and find a way to tell Violet, and soon before she notices it herself. What if she can already tell? What if she does know and she still treats me the same way, ignoring the health of the baby. No. No one would be that inhuman.
I walked down stairs to make Violet and I some breakfast. I made scrambled eggs, with bacon, and toast, making a little extra for me. I know Violet will come get her plate later to avoid seeing me, and to make sure I avoid her I decided to eat in my room.
Once I was done I laid back down unto my bed and reached under my pillow for Marcus’ journal. I thought it would be a good time to read it, due to the fact that my morning is open, and I know Violet won’t bother me at all. I opened up to the page I left off from.

                       After I stopped allowing Violet to go see Rose, I thought it would end there, but I was wrong. After she reached of age to walk alone, she would walk all the way to her mother’s “New Home” and see her. I didn’t like Violet going there, it was in the ghetto and filled with unsavory people. Despite this I never stopped her, and I recorded each time she went and how long she stayed just in case anything happened to her. I know Rose had brain-washed her already, but I just couldn’t bring myself to stop her. Rose was Violet’s mother for god sakes, what type of person would I be to take her away from something only a mother can give, but what type of father would I be if I allowed my daughter to stay with a drug addict.

I don’t know how I would have handled that. I never knew what it meant to be a parent, hell from the looks of it I’m doing a bad job being a stepparent. How would I tell my child that their parent was a drug addict, hopeless and lost even? Maybe I was being too sympathetic of Marcus. Maybe he could have handled the situation better and just explained to Violet what her mother’s true colors were, but knowing Violet she would have just painted a picture with them.

I rubbed my stomach and thought of the baby growing up without a father. I always thought a child needed a strong female and male figure in their life, it doesn’t necessarily mean that it has to be their parents, maybe it could be Tom. I quickly went back to the book to stop myself from being lost in thought.

Sometimes I wished that I never met Rose. I didn’t like having to go through this. Having to deal with an addict of an ex-wife, a new wife and a daughter who cannot get a long, and even worse my child cannot see what her mother is; what she has done; and how she feels about us. There is although one thing I will never regret. My daughter, my sweet daughter, Violet. I know she has her shortcomings and her influence from her mother, but she is the one I will never give up on, even if my heart says I already did.
I wondered what Marcus meant by that. What did he mean by he did not give up, but his heart did? Did it mean that he kept on trying to better the situation even though he knew it was hopeless? Was it hopeless from the start? My relationship with Violet, her devout faith in Rose? I put those thoughts in the back of my head, but it was still there. Am I like Marcus now? Am I trying to fix something that is forever broken?
I heard the beep from my phone. It was an alarm, telling me of my doctor’s appointment. I completely forgot about it, in fact I completely forgot that our house was robbed just yesterday. I’ve been so focused on this journal, and Violet that I completely forgot about everything else. This just proved how much this was stressing me out. It’s taking over my life.
I walked down the stairs wearing the same clothes I was in. They were comfortable I didn’t feel like changing at all. As I walked toward the door I saw Violet through the window. She was just leaving the driveway and walked on the sidewalk. I wondered if she was going to see her mother. I felt like following her like Marcus did but I didn’t want to be seen by her and questioned why I was following her. That would set me up to lose what tiny shred of respect she has for me.
I locked the door on the way out, making sure it was locked I jiggled the knob. As I was driving down the street, I passed Violet. I didn’t look back. I didn’t want to see her looking at me, and wondering where I was going.
I arrived at the doctors a little over twenty minutes later. I had to remind myself that I was going to hear about my baby and the stress levels.
I sat down as always to wait for my appointment. As I waited I saw the couple from last time. The woman had a much bigger stomach now, she was months ahead of me in her pregnancy. She was holding the girl's hand, with her left hand, and holding her husband’s hand with her right hand. Again I was reminded how it reminded me of Violet, Marcus, and I. I couldn’t help but overhear them talking.
“You ready for a little sister?” The wife said.
“Yes,” said the little girl, “I will love my little sister.”
I smiled a bit. I wish Violet and I were that close. I wondered what happened to the little girl’s biological mother. Where was she now? How is she taking this, and what did she do to not be apart of the family anymore? While I was fantasizing my family to be like theirs, my name was called.
I sat down on the bed and waited for the doctor to come in. Once he did I was told to lay down and he rubbed that clear jelly on my stomach again. He looked at the monitor on the sonogram. It took him awhile to find the baby. It made me wonder if it was there. So much ran through my mind. Did the stress finally catch up to me? I began to get fidgety.
“There it is!” The doctor exclaimed. “Healthy as a horse,”.
I sighed, “So the baby is ok?”
“Yes, but,” The doctor paused, or I thought he paused, “The baby is slightly smaller than the average fetus, but don’t worry as much it could just be the fetal growth, or it could be stress. All I can tell you is that whatever is causing you stress, I urge you to get rid of it, in case it is the problem.”
“Oh! You wanna know the gender?” The doctor exclaimed.
“Please.” I said.
“It’s a boy.”
A boy. I’m having a boy! Little Marcus Jr.
“You want pictures?” The doctor asked.
I nodded my head and asked a question, “So are you the doctor for that interracial family?”
“You mean Maria, and Darren? Yes I am.”
“Can I know about how they met? And where is the little girl’s mother?”
“Abigail, I can’t do that, that would go against the doctor patient confidentiality agreement.”
I sighed, feeling ashamed at myself for being nosey. I guess the doctor saw the pain I was going through, “But what I can tell you is that Darren’s ex-wife is perfectly fine and understands that her husband has moved on, and if Darren’s wife makes him and her daughter happy, then who is she to be vindictive over it.”
“I see.” I said. I thought long and hard, Rose made Violet happy even if Violet didn’t see what she was doing. Should I just stop trying to be there for Violet and just let that relationship continue and avoid them for the rest of my life? I then remembered what the little girl said about her unborn sister. Maybe Violet will feel the same way, even if I’m not Rose.
“Abigail? Abigail?” I was brought back into reality, “Is everything ok?” the doctor asked.
“Everything’s fine.” I said. I know everything wasn’t fine and I shouldn’t be lying to the doctor about this but I needed to help Violet myself. If I tell him he may encourage me to make the choice I have been dying to choose: Give up on Violet all together. I couldn’t though, I want my child to have a piece of his father in his life, and Violet was the only one.
After my appointment was over I went straight home. I placed the sonogram pictures in the glove compartment of my car. For most of the evening I had to talk to cops and find receipts of the stolen material, and was told they would arrive here later on to scan for evidence. It didn’t really bother me, losing materials; things I can easily replace. It just made me wonder who would do it. This was a nice neighborhood filled with affluent, nice, people, while it's not hard to think who would come into our neighborhood and steal, I just never expected it to be my home.
I began to think if I locked up the house that day, I know I was the one to leave second, but I wasn’t the first to come back. It pains me to think that Violet may have had something to do with this. Only Violet and I have a key. There was no sign of breaking or entering. Unless the people who broke in had great pickpocketing skills. I don’t see how someone would go through all of that only to take materials, and small ones at that, clothes, silverware, vases, small change, only things that can be carried by hand. I heard a knock on the door. It was the cops coming in to scan the house.
The cops brought in equipment and searched the house for any clues that would tell them who broke into my house. It was amazing what cops would do for the affluent, I wondered if they would do the same for the less fortunate. They searched in the living room, the kitchen, the dining room, my room, the office, and Violet’s room. It was a little weird to see the cops in my house, looking through all of my things and personal clothing.  It was also suspenseful; they didn’t tell me anything, they didn’t tell me they were looking for specific evidence, just searching.
“Sir, we found something.” A cop said from the kitchen. The cops came to the kitchen and I followed. I peered through the uniformed men and saw them holding a string of hair. The cop showed it to me, “Does this hair match anyone's hair that you know?”
I looked closely at it. It was a dark brown, with what appeared to be dyed red, but it looked as if the color had been fading, and I know that many people these days has been dying their head red and doing a horrible job at it. One name did stick out though. Rose. She has red hair, but I didn’t just want to automatically think it was her.
Would she do that to her own child? I quickly answered my own question. Yes, she would, from what I been reading in Marcus’ journal It wouldn't be the most horrible thing she has done.
“I don’t know.” I said. I wanted to say Rose but if I was proven wrong, the last thing I wanted was to find another reason to make Violet hate me more. “Can you just scan it for DNA?” I asked.
“Of course ma’am we can, but that can take some time.”
I nodded and understood.
After the cops left I made food, during that time Violet came in and ignored me. Something was different about her, she seemed a bit happy. Instead of her going straight to her room and waiting for me to come bring it to her, she took it off the counter and went straight to her room. She didn’t insult me, nor threaten me. I reminded myself of the baby and how stress may be the cause, maybe she would tone down on her usual words to me. To be honest her being so calm to me was stressing me out. It made me think she was planning something. I looked up stress reducing classes later on that night just to be safe. I wonder what has gotten into her. I didn’t think much of it, and ate my food and went straight to sleep