Pixie opens the door of the café and immediately, freezes on the spot. She glances around the space, frowns, sort of barfs before covering her mouth with her hand, and running back out.
I jump up from my seat, clattering the table and almost sending the chair crashing down to the floor. My heart’s in my throat as I dash out after her, and find her hunched over on a trashcan, puking her guts out.
“Pixie? You okay? What the fuck…” I trail off as she stands upright but stumbles on her feet.
I catch her by the shoulders and bring her flush to my heaving chest. She grabs hold of my cross, stopping my heart altogether.
“Thank you,” she whispers into my shirt — yellow shirt — without lifting her face. I can only see the top of her head.
I’m still reeling from her proximity, the fact that she threw up and then, almost fell to the ground. I’m reeling. I don’t think I’ll ever stop reeling.
The old lady with a checkered apron approaches us from the café; she’s working the counter. Frowning, she asks, “You okay, dear?”
Pixie sighs and moves away from me. Every fiber of my being tells me to not let her go, but I defy every single one of them. My fingers loosen around the delicate lines of her shoulder, and she slips through my hold.
“I’m okay,” she says in a voice that keeps me up at night. It’s a voice I’ll probably hear even after I die. “It’s just the coffee, I think. Can’t stand the smell of it. But I thought I was doing better today.”
The old lady smiles. “Ah, you’re expecting.” At Pixie’s nod, she looks up at me, beaming. “Congratulations, both of you. Such an exciting time. I was the same. Couldn’t stand coffee. It’ll pass though. How far along are you?”
“Almost three months.”
“First trimester’s the worst. At least, it was for me.” She rubs Pixie’s shoulder. “Let me get you some water and a wash cloth, okay? You don’t have to come inside.”
She turns around to go to the café, leaving me alone with Pixie on the busy sidewalk.
Three months.
My Pixie’s been pregnant for three months.
I’m pregnant.
With those two words, she made me realize that I didn’t know the meaning of shock until then. I didn’t know the meaning of longing and regret. I didn’t know the meaning of anything.
She asked if I’d like to see her. I laughed, or I wanted to. Such a fucking joke. Like that’s even a question. But I think all I could do was puff out a breath, and said yes. She decided on this café and here we are.
I’m running on zero sleep but I can’t deny that when she faces me, she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. In fact, she’s more beautiful than I remembered. More beautiful than my drawings of her. More beautiful than those fucking tapes.
Her hair is loose, the long strands brushing her shoulders, fluttering in the slight breeze. I think she’s lost some weight though. Has she not been eating well? I know she hates cooking but she should be, right? Pregnant women should be eating more. Why else would there be dark circles under her eyes? Why else would the curve of her cheeks be so pronounced?
It’s my fault. I did this to her. If it weren’t for me, she wouldn’t even be at the café. She wouldn’t be living alone, in a strange city.
“I didn’t… I didn’t know. About the coffee.”
She tucks her hair behind her ear. “It’s okay. I thought it wouldn’t affect me. That’s why I chose this place.”
I look around, plowing my fingers through my hair. “I, uh, we can go somewhere else. I… I-I can look for a place. I don’t know what will set you off, but I can —”
Just then, the lady comes out and hands Pixie the water, which she takes gratefully. All I do is stand here, helpless, as the lady fusses over the woman I love.
Fuck, is it me or am I the most useless husband in the world?
I should’ve known about the coffee. I should know about other triggers, too. Jesus Christ, how do people keep track of these things?
Books.
There has to be books, which clarify everything. I need to get some books. I’m not fond of reading and rules and following a textbook, but I can try. I’m gonna fucking try.
Even though it’s difficult to move away from her when she’s really here, warm and smelling like sugar, I take a couple of steps back.
She notices, immediately. “Abel?” Her eyes are wide, fearful. “A-Are you leaving?”
I press a fist on my chest; my breaths have become wild. “Yeah. I need to get some books.”
“What books?”
I wave my hand around. “For this… stuff. I don’t know anything. I probably, uh…” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I should probably look for a list. You know, of things. That are triggers, that you should keep away from. There’s gotta be a book somewhere. I think I should start with the bookstore just around the corner. I —”
The lady laughs. “Oh God, aren’t you the sweetest thing? Sweetheart, you can find a million books out there but still, you’re not gonna be prepared for everything. Pregnancy is the most fickle bitch. It’s even more unpredictable than falling in love. In fact, falling in love is easy. Bringing a new life into this world, is a little bit more complicated than that.” Chuckling, she collects everything from Pixie. “Anyway, I’ll leave you guys to it. If you’re gonna stay out here and you need anything, just knock.”
When she departs, Pixie says, “You don’t even like books.”
Her plump lips are twitching and I wanna bite it. Instead, I bite the inside of my cheek. “I don’t know anything,” I admit.
I should probably not show how terrified I am but honest to God, I am terrified. She’s having a baby. My baby. My kid is in there and I’ve got no clue how to deal with that.
How do you deal with someone who’s going to be completely and utterly dependent on you? Especially when, you’re prone to making so many mistakes. When you’re the most imperfect being on this planet.
For the first time since she got here, I drop my gaze and look at her stomach. She’s wearing a white dress with red flowers. Always fucking flowers for my Pixie. I don’t see anything different; her tummy looks flat. But still, I want to touch it. I want to touch the expanse of her body where my kid is sleeping.
I want to feel it. I want to feel the temperature of her stomach, the texture, the curve, everything. Is it any different from before? Does her skin run hotter now?
“Me neither.”
I look up at her admission. In her gaze, I see similar fears and I want to tell her everything is going to be okay. I’ll make everything okay. But I don’t. I stand here like a dumbass, without moving, without giving her any words of comfort.
“Do you want to sit somewhere?” she asks.
“Yeah, uh, I need to…” I’m scanning the area for a place to sit. I know the coffee place is out. Maybe we can go to a restaurant, but it’s gonna be smelly too. My body fills with dread at the whole not-knowing thing. I don’t know where to go, where to take her…
“Abel?” I focus on her. “We can sit over there. On the bench. It’s nice outside, don’t you think?”
“It’s fall. Fall’s great in New York,” I inform her like it’s the most important thing in the world.
She chuckles, softly and walks to the bench she pointed at. It’s a wooden thing, located outside of a deli. She takes a seat and looks up at me, gesturing me to do the same. Swallowing, I sit beside her.
A breeze wafts between us and my lungs fill with her sugary smell. If I’m not careful, I’m gonna embarrass myself and start smelling the line of her neck, where her scent is the thickest. I clear my throat and take a slight sniff of the air, anyway. Her smell isn’t as strong as I’d like, but it will do.
“Where did you go?” I ask, clearing my throat.
She gives me a meaningful look as she says, “Queens. Uh, Flushing.”
My eyes flare at her reply. I open my mouth to respond but I don’t know any words. I don’t fucking know how to talk.
“I didn’t know where else to go.”
I nod. Like a moron.
Then, I shift in my seat. When that doesn’t do anything to calm me down, I steeple my fingers together and dig my elbows on my thighs. Like I’m too weak to sit straight. Too weak to hold my head up high.
“I never thought to look there. I kept looking for you in the city. I never thought you’d even go there.”
“It’s obvious, isn’t it? I went there because that place is special to you. I wanted to see where you grew up. I remembered your parents’ address from when you told me. I see their house every day on my way to work.” I frown at her in question. “I work at this bookstore up there. It’s pretty nice. They like me over there.”
I went there because that place is special to you.
It jacks up my heart, her statement. But I won’t pay attention to it. Won’t pay attention to my heartbeats. Her love for me was never the question, was it? It’s what I did with it. It’s how I crushed it, strangled it, threw it away.
“Well, fuck yeah, they like you. Why wouldn’t they?”
Her chuckle is watery. “I should’ve worked at a bookstore from the beginning. Don’t know why it didn’t occur to me. Working for Milo was a bust.”
I tighten my fingers together, almost crushing the bones. “A lot of things were a bust.”
Without volition, my eyes go to her flat stomach. I’m almost disappointed that it’s flat. I wanna see the bump, some indication that something I made, something we made is in there.
My baby.
She wrings her hands in her lap, looking up at me with frank eyes. “I got scared.” I whip my gaze to hers. “The night I went away, I knew I was pregnant. Well, I didn’t know for sure but I realized that I’d forgotten to take the pills and I felt it. Like, something moved inside my tummy.” She presses a hand on her stomach and my fingers, my very blood roars to cover it. “But you were so lost in everything. I didn’t know if you even wanted the baby. I didn’t know if you even wanted me. I thought… I thought I wasn’t enough for you. I thought I was your trophy, a possession and nothing more. I told Blu not to say anything. I just wanted to get away. I thought I was making everything worse for you. I kept thinking that if I wasn’t so mad myself, if I wasn’t so caught up in hurting my parents, maybe I could’ve stopped it. I could’ve stopped everything. I didn’t know what to do. I was so terrified.”
The very first thing my Pixie said to me on that bus long ago was that she wasn’t afraid of me. I think that’s when I knew that I was going to fall for this blue-eyed, yellow-haired girl. I knew she was going to own my heart and make me a fool.
She did.
But then I ruined it all. “I never wanted you to be scared of me. That was the last thing I wanted.”
“I know.” She nods as a tear streaks down her cheek. “I know you love me, Abel. But then I realized that I also wanted you to choose me. Those tapes, that room, whatever we did. I realized later that I was giving you my love and I wanted you to take it, and forget about everything else.”
She’s glowing right now, as she bares her heart. She’s shining like there’s light inside her. Tiny bulbs under the surface of her skin and all I can do is feel this giant fucking pain in my chest. A chasm of pain and regret and longing.
I look into her blue, beautiful eyes and make a promise. “I want you to know that nothing like this will ever touch our baby. I know I’ve broken promises before. I know that I broke your heart but I won’t break this one. This tiny heart inside you. Whatever I’ve done, whatever mistakes I’ve made, whatever mistakes I will make… nothing will touch our kid. I won’t let it. You have my word.”
She nods, sniffling. “Do you want this baby, Abel?”
I release a puff of air and with it, a broken laugh escapes. I look at the sky, the orange flecks of the sunset. I remember the things I said to her before. I remember how badly I wanted to get her pregnant, plant my baby in her. But I never thought about the baby itself. Never thought about the tiny hands, the tiny feet, an actual human being who won’t even know how to feed herself.
I imagine her now, been imagining her all night. I have a feeling it’s a girl. I want her to have Pixie’s blue eyes and her light-colored hair. I want her to have her mother’s smile, along with her penchant for reading. Maybe she can learn to like sketching, as well, like her dad. Most of all, I want her to know that her dad will do anything for her.
I’ll even move mountains for her, but I know in my heart that, what she needs the most from me is to stay away.
Looking back at Pixie, I tell her, “I won’t fuck her up.”
“What?”
“I can’t. I already love her too much to fuck this up.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I can’t have her. I can’t stay too close to her. I’m not sure if I’m better. Than before. I’m not sure if I’ll ever be better than before.”
The words are shards of glass, cutting my tongue, scraping my throat, brutalizing my chest. Even though, we’re sitting outside and the air is plenty, I can’t remember drawing a breath.
“So, you won’t watch her grow up?”
“From afar, maybe. I’m not abandoning you, Pixie. I…” I plow my hands through my hair. “I’ll be here. I’ll be around. If you need me for anything, I’ll —”
“Oh wow, that’s great.”
“Pixie —”
“You won’t know anything about her, and you’re okay with that. You’re okay with never knowing what her favorite cereal is or what her bedtime routine is, or if she likes apples or chocolates or if she hates them both. This works for you.”
Her face is sparkling with anger and I wanna kiss her furious lips. Angry Pixie used to amuse me, used to get me hard, and she still has that power. I wish I had the privilege to do something about it.
Before I can answer her, she asks me the question that steals all my resolve in one second, “You’re okay with never touching her? Or hugging her or kissing her forehead?”
I look at her stomach again as currents zap through my system. It’s like my body is fighting against myself. My hands are shaking, almost reaching out and touching Pixie’s stomach, but somehow, I’m stopping myself.
“You want to, don’t you?” She puts a palm on her stomach. “You want to feel her.”
I nod, while my lips say something else. “I can’t.”
“You can, Abel.”
“I can’t. I don’t know if I’m strong enough or capable enough to choose her. I thought I was. I thought my love for you was so big and so fucking huge that I could never hurt you. But I ended up hurting you, anyway. I ended up hurting the one person who I was supposed to cherish and protect. What’s the guarantee that I won’t do the same with our baby girl?”
Pixie reaches out and covers my joined hands with her small one. I feel a distinct throb where our skins meet. A thunder.
It sounds like heartbeats, only louder, more potent. More ferocious and significant than the thing inside my chest. I can’t stop looking at it. I can’t stop looking at where she’s touching me. After weeks, months. I’ve gotta memorize it. Memorize her soft and pale skin, how it feels like silk against mine. How even if the world was blowing up around me, I wouldn’t be able to look away from where she’s touching me.
Weeks ago, I would’ve grabbed onto her hand. I would’ve threaded our fingers together and held on tightly. Tighter than necessary because I wouldn’t have been able to control myself. Now, I only sit here without making a move. One thing I know for sure is that even if I drag her back with me, she won’t really be mine. Proximity has nothing to do with belongingness.
Then, she slides her palm between my joined hands, uncurling my fingers from each other. It’s fucking embarrassing how sweaty they are. Once my digits are free, she brings my hand closer to her body.
And before I can protest, she puts it on her stomach.
I visibly jolt. I’m touching her tummy. It’s not as flat as I thought it was. There’s a slight bump. A sign of life. A sign of my kid. Her body heat has doubled. The throb created by the touch of our hands was nothing compared to what I feel now.
This is huge. Bigger than anything else I’ve ever experienced. Pixie says that when she saw me, there was a big bang. Maybe somewhere up above, stars were colliding and new planets were being born.
This is it, I think. This is what a big bang sounds like, feels like.
“I… You… It’s…” I trail off, still watching my big palm, covering the expanse of her stomach.
“Well, you’re not going to feel anything, right now. I mean, there’s not much there yet. I won’t show until I’m in my fifth month, I think.”
I move my hand, tracing the fabric of her dress but somehow, also feeling the flesh underneath. “I feel everything.”
She nods, grinning. “Me too. I like to touch my belly and just feel. I even play your messages to our baby.”
I look up at her smiling face. “You do?”
“Yes, I want her to know her daddy’s voice, and what he’s doing every day. Remember how you used to leave me notes in my school locker? Your messages feel the same. I want her to know how every day her daddy goes to work in the morning and then, sketches in the evening. How her daddy’s the greatest artist I know. How, bit by bit, he’s falling in love with himself.”
I scoff. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s true. That ship sailed the moment I watched myself on screen.”
“Nothing’s permanent, Abel. Don’t you know that by now?”
“Feels permanent,” I mutter.
Pixie covers my hand with hers again, and presses it on her stomach, and I’m so dazed, so humbled that I almost come to my knees. “I told her that Mommy and Daddy are just taking some time apart. But they still love each other and they love her, too. More than anything. And I told her that for her, we’ll take baby steps because I know.”
“Know what?”
“That what happened wasn’t permanent. It took me a while to figure it out but I know that somehow, we’ll find our way back to ourselves and to each other. I have faith.”
Then, I can’t stop myself and I don’t want to. I slide down to my knees, cement hitting my bones, my palm still connected to where my daughter lies, inside my wife. Is there anything godlier than this? Is there anything more peaceful, more terrifying, more humbling than kneeling in front of the mother of your child?
If she wasn’t a goddess before, she is now. She has life inside her.
“I-I don’t know anything. About being a dad or anything like that,” I confess to her, again.
“Me neither.” She chuckles. “But, I hear they have books.”
“For her, I’ll read all the goddamned books there are.”
“I know.” She squeezes my hand. “But just so you know, we’ve been talking like it’s really a girl but we don’t know that yet.”
I look into the eyes of the only woman I’ve really loved, the only woman I will ever love, and tell her, “It’s a girl, and she’s gonna be like you. Bossy and innocent and giving, and brave. So fucking brave, she’ll blow everyone’s mind. Most of all, she’ll make a fool out of me and I’ll love every second of it.”
“Really?”
I nod. “I have faith.”