NO LONGER THERE

CLUSTER ELEVEN

TRUTH

For three days, Bryce kissed me on the forehead, then went to work. 

And for three days I cried when he left, until he returned. I forwarded my calls and emails, refrained from replying to texts and refused to turn on the tv. The house was quiet, empty. No chocolate Caspers' to hear my sniffles and sobs. So, I laid in bed feeling sorry for myself, and cried.

Lillian called. I didn't want to talk. I didn't care what the 'other' tests showed when the one I wanted let me down. On the third day, Bryce arrived home at his usual time. An hour later, Clarence's face appeared on my phone. Dammit, my kryptonite.

"Hi, Daddy," I said forcing joy into my greeting.

"Hey, babygirl. Your mother wants to talk to you."

Shit. Before I could protest, Lillian spoke.

"Avery Grace, you need to see Jackie."

I pushed snotty tissues aside so I could sink deeper under my duvet. My muffled response was, "I don't have time to see Dr. Williams. I leave in a few days."

"I've forwarded her your lab results, and she will see you tomorrow at ten."

Bryce pulled back my reality barrier as he interjected. "We'll  be there at nine thirty, Mrs. Reed, thank you."

"You're welcome, Bryce."

I disconnected the call.

He shook his head. "That was rude."

I grimaced as I raised my shoulders. "So is scheduling my day."

Bryce peered around the room, then back at me. "Was there something more pressing on your schedule for tomorrow?"

I covered my face with the duvet.

"I didn't think so. I'm making dinner, want to join me?"

I sat up, surrounded by snot tissue icebergs and asked, "Is it really this easy for you? To move on like we never were excited about having a baby?"

Bryce backed up and sat on the edge of the bed, away from the snotty tissue mounds.

"No, it's not this easy. I'm hurt. I would have a thousand real and wished babies with you. I also know that one negative is not the end of our journey."

I sat back up and shouted, "Why does it feel like it then?"

"Because you, Avery Reed, don't like failing at anything. And you feel like a negative pregnancy test is a failure."

I bit the inside of my cheek.

"I can't make you feel better about this. I can only love you while you get through it. So, I'm making dinner. Would you care to join me?"

I wanted to say yes, but felt stuck. Mainly because, as usual, he was right. I felt like a failure. Maybe if it was just the pregnancy test I could move on a little easier, but I couldn't help but wonder, was this the beginning of a new pattern for me? Was I going to continue to lose at life the way I was losing my hair?

I did what any stuck person would do. I lay back down and concealed my head with my duvet cover until I heard Bryce sigh, then leave the room. Forty-five minutes later he returned with a bag, plates and wine. He had ordered from my favorite restaurant.

"This is you making dinner?" I asked, trying not to be amused.

He spooned noodles onto a plate, then handed it to me.

"I just made your plate. That counts, right?"

I took the plate and freed some of my joy from solitary confinement. He made his plate, poured our wine and climbed over snot tissue mountains to sit next to me. How could he be so good, to me? How could I be so unhappy and when would it end? I guess I would find out at ten the next morning.