Chapter Thirty-Nine
Jason
My body felt like I had been buried alive and was still underground. I groaned, trying to get up. Fuck. Nope, wasn't working. I opened my eyes, squinting. The curtains were open, and I was in our bed, but I was alone. I could have sworn that I had fallen asleep with Damien. I remembered hearing him crying, and it had been way too loud to have come from his nursery. I sighed, rubbing my hands over my face. It might have been morning, but I couldn't be sure. I had been asleep longer than I had been awake this weekend. Was it still the weekend? I didn't even know.
I swallowed; my throat was parched. I looked over at the nightstand and saw a half-full glass of water, next to a box of tissues and another of Tylenol. I heaved myself up into a sitting position so I could have some of the water. My throat was raw, still sore, my body ached like all hell, and I was exhausted even though I had just woken up. At least I wasn't throwing up anymore. At least my fever had broken.
I was definitely awake this time; I knew that much. I had gone in and out a lot, but I was awake now. Some of my dreams, I felt like I had been watching them play out in front of me like a movie. I had heard Shel's voice in some of them, talking to me. I wasn't sure if she had been there or if I had just conjured her up in my head, running a hundred degree fever. There was a reason why I had gotten up; right, I needed to piss.
I got up; it was slow, and it hurt, but I got up. The room spun a little, and I had to pause before starting to walk. My legs felt like they weighed a hundred pounds each. You know what? A day ago I would have been making this trip to the bathroom on my hands and knees; it could have been worse, and it had been. There might have been ten feet between where I was and where I was trying to get to, maybe twelve, thirteen if I was being generous. It felt like an entire mile, shuffling to the bathroom with my legs feeling like they were cemented stiff.
Getting to the toilet, I did my business and flushed. I leaned against the wall, exhausted. I thought I was in better shape than this, I thought, absently. Didn't that count for anything when you got sick? Apparently not. I washed my hands and ripped some more toilet paper off the roll to blow my nose. I was still congested; I needed to ask Shel if she had anything for that. I threw the wadded up tissue towards the trash but missed.
"Shit," I muttered. Bending over gave me vertigo. I held onto the sink and lowered myself to the ground. I grabbed the wad of paper and tossed it into the trashcan. Trying to get up off my knees, I kicked it, spilling the trash all over the floor. I sat down again. Could I get a nap before I dealt with this shit? I felt like I was about to pass out. I sighed, gathering the empty pill boxes, blister packs and the rest of the trash off the floor. Was that everything?
Some white thing had somehow slid across the floor and gotten behind the toilet. I groaned and reached over for it. I tossed it in the trash before my brain caught up with what I was doing. I reached back in and pulled it out, looking down at it. Smooth white plastic stick with a little window display and two vertical lines down the middle. Two and two came together, and I dropped it.
"Shelby... Shel?" I stared at the test, picking it up again. One line meant not pregnant. Two meant pregnant. My heart pounded and my throat dried out looking at the test. Shelby was... she couldn’t be... I mean, she could but... fuck. I heard her coming.
"Jason, what are you doing out of bed?" she asked, coming into the bathroom.
"What the fuck is this?" I demanded, holding the test up. She came over to me, kneeling on the ground and taking the test.
"I took a pregnancy test," she said, way too calmly. Had she? Shit, and here I was thinking I was hallucinating.
"You're pregnant, Shel; when were you going to tell me."
"When you felt better. I said something yesterday, but you were half dead, groaning in your sleep. I wasn't sure whether you heard me."
"That was you?" I asked. There was a strong possibility that I had dreamt most of the last forty-eight hours. In fact, I had. I vaguely remembered hearing her voice at times but fuck if I knew whether I had been awake or dreaming it.
"Were you awake? Your eyes were closed. You had called out to me for something; you had been burning up."
"I heard something," I said, "I thought it had been a fever dream. I was hearing your voice, but I couldn't move. I saw you, but you were tiny, like a speck miles and miles away."
"No, Jason. It was real. And this is real too," she said, motioning to the test.
"Really?" She nodded.
"It's the second one I've taken, and they both came up positive. I haven't gone to the doctor yet, but I know. I can feel it."
"How long have you known?"
"Just a week. I... are you upset?"
"Upset?" I grabbed her, kissing her.
"Jason, gross," she laughed, pushing me away. "You haven't brushed your teeth." I kissed her again. She laughed, trying to get away from me.
"Did you think I would be mad?"
"Well," she started, sheepishly, "it's just that we didn't plan this. We only just moved in together. I thought maybe you would..." She trailed off, but I had a feeling I knew what she thought I might have done when she told me the news. She was happy, clearly, but I had given her reasons in the past to be scared of how I would have reacted.
"I'm not upset, Shel. I'm happy." She smiled, wrapping her arms around me and laying her head on my chest.
"Sorry I didn't tell you earlier, before you were practically knocked out with the flu." I told her it was okay. Everything was great, suddenly. I was sick as a dog, on the bathroom floor with my fiancée, but she was pregnant. I had thought that I would have had to wait longer for a chance to experience that with her.
The monitor in the bedroom sounded. Damien was crying. Shel had taken care of him since I had been knocked out. It hit me then; somehow I had totally forgotten since getting the news of the new baby. Damien was just four months old. When the baby came, he'd only be at about a year. Two babies? That was practically twins. I had been so caught up in the excitement of welcoming a baby with Shel as a family that I hadn't realized what that would mean. Twice the kids would mean twice the effort. It would be stressful for both of us. Would we still be living here? It wouldn't be enough space. I hadn't felt this out of my depth since the first time I had met Damien. Everything was about to change and who was I kidding. I wasn't ready.
"Poor baby, he slept through most of the night, but he gets irritable as the medication wears off," Shelby said, getting up. She looked down at me, and my face must have given it away. "I know," she said, holding a hand out to me, "I'm scared too." I took her hand, letting her help me up.
"Shel, I don't know if I can do it."
"Neither do I," she admitted, putting her hands on my chest. "I felt the same way when I had gotten pregnant with Damien."
"How did you do it?" I asked. She had been alone that time too. I wouldn't have had a clue.
"You're a lot more capable than you think, even if you have to learn that the hard way."
"What does that mean?"
"It means I know you're going to be a great dad," she said confidently. The couple days with Damien when she had been sick had made me feel like that wasn't true. She believed in me though, and when the baby came, I'd have no choice but to believe in myself.
"I hope you're right."
"You have at least nine months to get ready," she said lightly. "You didn't get that last time and look at you." Yeah, but was that long enough? She took my hand, tugging me as she walked out of the bathroom. "Come on," she urged. We walked out of the bathroom, through the bedroom to Damien's nursery. She picked him out of his crib and cuddled him, kissing his cheek. He was still feeling sick, which was making him restless and fussy.
"Here, let me change him," I said, offering to take him from her. I held him, pressing his forehead against my cheek. He wasn't warm anymore. I put him down on the changing table. "What do you think, little guy; ready to become a big brother?" I asked him. He sneezed, getting snot all over his mouth and chin. I laughed, pulling out a wipe to clean him up. He was about as ready as I was. Hopefully, Shel would be right about both of us.