The Hurt

Pretty Pieces

I briskly walked out of the hospital after I finished talking with the doctors.

I sat in my car and stared at the sonogram with the little bean-shaped thing in the lower left corner of the picture. I stopped staring when I noticed my hands shaking and a stray tear escaping my eye. I had to tell Sean, no matter what his reaction was, no matter the outcome. I chewed a nail, slowly dialing his number before hitting the call button. Holding the phone up to my ear, I listened to it ring, almost hoping he wouldn’t pick up the phone.

“Hey, sugar,” his warm voice pulling me back to where I was, “I’m in a meetin’ now, can I call you in a few?”

I was silent, the lump in my throat choking me, preventing me from speaking.

“Hello? Kay? You there?”

“Okay,” I choked out.

“You okay?”

“Yes,” my voice was breaking, “call me.” I hung up, sobbing as soon as I disconnected. Sobbing and screaming intermittently inside my car, the parking lot nearly empty, it was starting to get dark. I was glad no one was around to see what a sight I was. I didn’t know what else to do; I felt helpless and alone in the situation I found myself in. Once I had dried my tears enough to see, I started my car and made my way home.

Sean had called me a few times while I was driving, but I had no strength to drive and talk to him. I knew I would break down in ugly, incoherent sobs if I tried to talk to him right now. My phone dinged a few times; he was texting me, but I still didn’t want to answer while I was driving. I’m sure he was getting worried after our brief conversation earlier, but I almost didn’t care. I felt numb all over, my feet and arms seeming to automatically drive me home. If I weren’t pregnant, I’d light up a cigarette. I had, quote-on-quote, quit over 5 years ago, but always had a pack on hand in case I needed a little something to settle my nerves. This would normally be one of those times, despite smoking contributing to certain types of cancer. I wonder if that’s how I got cancer? Even though it was in my lady bits, and not my throat or lungs.

I pulled onto my street, stopping at the mailbox before pulling into my driveway. I sat there for a moment looking through the small stack of envelopes I had in my hand: an electricity bill, a renewal reminder for my tabs, and junk mail. My phone dinged again as I was looking at my electricity bill. I had forgotten to message or even call Sean back. I opened my phone and read his message, his latest one saying that he was on his way to my house because he was worried about me. “s**t,” I sighed before dialing his number.

The line only rang twice before he picked up, “The hell you doin’ giving me a heart attack like that, girl? What’s goin’ on with you?”

“Hey, Sean,” I said quietly.

“‘Hey Sean?’ I been tryin’ to call you back for a hot minute and all you gotta say is ‘Hey Sean?’” He mimicked me and clicked his tongue, “You gotta get your s**t straightened out before you do me like that! Like I said, I’m on my way ‘cause I’m worried ‘bout you, baby.”

Baby, I wasn’t ready to hear that word right now. I started crying, “I’m sorry,” I sniffled.

“Hey, hey, I didn’t mean to yell,” he sighed, “you jus’ had me worried sick. What’s wrong, baby girl? Talk to me.”

“It was just a real bad day, one for the books.” I rubbed my head, catching sight of the sonogram on the passenger seat. I shook my head at the sight, “I think I’m going to take tomorrow off, I need to recoup.”

“You, takin’ a day off? Musta been some day,” he snorted.

“Mm hm. How far away are you? Can I tell you about it over dinner tonight? I can make you a little somethin’ for your troubles?”

“I’m ‘bout an hour out, but it’s no trouble; I wanted to see you anyhow. An’ a home-cooked meal’d be icing on the cake.”

I gave a small smile from the other side of the phone, “Alright, sugar, I’ll cook something up, see you soon.” I hung up, gathered my mail, and the groceries I had scattered about my car. Staring for a minute, I reluctantly grabbed the sonogram picture from the passenger seat and headed inside. I was starving, throwing up what little I had left over in my stomach hours ago, couldn’t have helped. Everything sounded good: gumbo, shrimp, chicken, beans, and rice…

After some deliberation and a search through my pantry to make sure I had the ingredients, I decided on some fried chicken steak with leftover butter beans. Handy enough, the frozen meats I got earlier had thawed nicely in my car; all I had to do was tenderize and flatten the steaks out before dipping them in the breading, the egg wash, back into the dredge, and carefully into the hot oil. The sizzle was a comforting distraction and made me forget the impending doom that was inside of me. The smell of the chicken frying filled the house, and brought a certain warmth and comfort that usually only comes when I’m with Sean.

As if on cue, there was a knock on the door. I made my way over to grab it, sliding an envelope over the sonogram picture on my way past. I opened the door to see him leaning up against the door frame casually, his head resting on his forearm, waiting for me. He smiled a bright smile that contrasted his hazelnut skin, which made me melt every time. “C’mon in, I’m just finishing up with dinner.”

He smelled the air, “Mm, what you got cookin’ in here?” He sat down on the bench, taking his boots off, looking up at me while doing so.

“Just frying up some chicken, hope that’s okay?” I put my hands on his chest and greeted him with a kiss.

“Sounds good, Miss Kay, mind if I have a seat?” he asked, putting his hat on my head like he always did in greeting.

I laughed, removing his hat from me and placing it on the counter, “You know you don’t need to ask permission from me, sugar. Make yourself at home. I’ll bring you some dinner out for you.”

He sighed, settling into an armchair, “Thank you, baby girl.”

“You want butter beans?” I asked, putting the biggest of the steaks on his plate.

“Yes’m,” he replied, reclining the chair.

“Somethin’ to drink?” I put a big scoop of the beans on his plate.

“Got any beer?”

I smiled, “What kind do you fancy? I have a light beer, IPA, I think there’s a porter in there you brought from last time too.”

“I’ll jus’ have the light, trying to keep my figure,” he patted his stomach while he said this.

I clicked my tongue at him, “Eating fried steak, and you’re worried about a light beer?” Smiling, I shook my head and brought his food out to him.

He sat up, “Aw, thank you,” he beamed at me.

“Happy to do it,” I leaned down and kissed him on the head, his mouth already full of beans.

I turned around to walk back into the kitchen when I felt his firm hand smack and grab my backside, “Mm, a good cook, an’ a fine ass.”

I blushed and bit my lip, caught off guard, “Why don’t you finish up dinner, and you can have dessert?”

His eyes widened a little, and a half-smile cracked his intense expression, “A’ite, you gonna have a little something too before dessert?”

I smiled, “I like to have my dessert first,” I winked at him, walking into the kitchen, “I’ll be right back.” After everything I had been through today, I didn’t really feel hungry. I reached into the fridge to grab him another beer, and returned just as he was finishing his steak. “You musta been hungry, mister."

“I sure was,” he reached for the can in my hand, “Thank you.”

“You done?” I nodded at the empty plate.

“Yeah, I think I’ll be done for now.”

I brought the plate back to the kitchen and started running water in the sink to start cleaning up. Sean had turned on the TV, so I hadn’t noticed him come up behind me while I was packing up the leftovers. I felt his arms around my waist as he embraced me from behind, “Hi, baby, you need something?”

“Jus’ you,” he pulled me closer to him, before taking me into the bedroom. Once he was done, he lay on his back in bed, exhausted. “Damn, you feel so good without a condom on. You go on the pill or somethin’?”

“Or something,” I laughed weakly, curling up in a blanket to face him.

His eyes were sleepy, and he was fighting to keep them open as he looked at me, “You doing okay, honey?” He was sleepily rubbing my arm.

I didn’t know if I wanted to drop the news on him now or not. “I’m all right,” I spoke slowly.

“So your appointment went fine?” he pressed, resting in bed.

“Well, it was weird,” I trailed off.

“Weird how?”

“Well, I don’t have a bug or anything like that.”

“That’s good, but how was it weird?” His brows furrowed, and he was looking at me, trying to pick me apart until I told him what was going on. He knew something was going on; he had to, and he was going to find out sooner or later.