The Bottom of the Sea

Part 12: Into the Dark

I unlocked the door, disabled the alarm and threw the keys on the side table, my small purse slumping to the floor. The contents spilled out across the elegant hallway carpet, but I didn't bother picking them up.

The house was warm and quiet, and I felt calmed by the tick of the grandfather clock. I poked my head into the library and looked around. Nothing was out of place.

I sat in the rocking chair and gazed at the portrait on the wall, breathing in the comforting smell of lilacs and of old books. A regal looking woman gazed back at me. Tall and impervious, she was dressed all in black with a piercing stare. She was the owner of the house in the early 1900s, but Missy couldn't remember her name. I wondered if she had faced as much hardship in her life as I had. Given the age she lived in, it was likely more.

At least I finally understood what was wrong with me. There was a brief 'a-ha' moment where random elements from the past six weeks suddenly locked into place, and I felt a small sense of satisfaction in that. But mostly, there was panic. Deep, gut-twisting, blood-draining panic.

I was pregnant — about two months. Of course, I was, how did I not know it? I couldn't remember the last time I'd had a period, but then again, I'd never been very regular. I was so shocked I asked the doctor to run the tests again. I still couldn't believe it.

I knew exactly when it happened, it was the night Shane got promoted. I hadn't seen him that happy and relaxed in a long time. We had dinner at one of those steak and seafood places and for a brief time I glimpsed the man he used to be, the one I fell in love with. The next morning, I felt a small ping of hope that maybe things could be better. Then I asked to see a female friend for coffee after work and he pushed me hard against the wall. I was a fool, nothing had changed.

For as long as I could remember, I was distracted and sloppy about my pills. I missed one here and there and doubled up when I remembered. Shane and I slept together so rarely I didn't think it mattered. I rocked slowly, thinking about the future, which just got a lot more complicated. It was a terrifying, black void to me. How on earth would I possibly manage the bombshell that just fell into my already shattered life? I didn't even have a job. There was no way I was going to be able to cope.

I put my hand on my belly and felt the small bulge. So, this was why I was gaining weight when I could barely keep a cracker down — one of several mysteries solved. Silent tears dripped from my face as I rocked in the sunlit room. I'd never felt so alone in my life, and that was saying something.

There was a small growl and a gurgling under my hand, and I started, thinking for a second it might have been the baby moving around until I realized I was hungry. I had eaten well in the hospital. Everyone complained about hospital food, but I always liked it, and ate everything they gave me while they kept me overnight to run their tests.

Of course, I couldn't feel the baby yet; I was still in my first trimester, it was only an inch big if that. Fetus, I reminded myself. The doctor was compassionate when she gave me the news and went over all of my options. I had a big decision to make, but I was so tired, I couldn't bear to think it all through just yet. All I could manage was to scrounge something to eat and go to bed.

I wiped my face and stood up. I was starving for a big, home cooked meal I didn't have the energy to cook. Canned soup and maybe a piece of toast was going to have to do. Maybe just the toast, although my stomach growled in protest at the thought of such a meagre supper. Fatigue and hunger were competing needs, and I wasn't sure which one was going to win out.

My feet were cold, and I looked around for my slippers, finally locating them next to the antique couch in the living room. When I padded to the kitchen and opened the fridge, I was shocked. There sat a casserole dish containing some kind of deliciousness next to a loaf of homemade garlic bread. "Sorry to hear you're in hospital," the note said. "Enjoy some homemade mac and cheese when you're out."