Nicolette
The first couple of days were weird. Like, really weird. Even though I’d been living with Jack for years, I wasn’t really used to spending that much time with him. Jack’s work with the Steel Gods had kept him busy most of the time – he was usually only home at night. He’d stumble in around one or two in the morning, already drunk, get drunker, and then pass out. I never minded because he couldn’t hit me when he was asleep.
But being with Charlie was different. Sure, he drank and smoked just like Jack did. But it had a different feeling to it. Charlie was abrasive and rough, just like Jack, but he never laid a hand on me. At least, not since he’d kidnapped me.
Sometimes I found myself forgetting how the hell we’d wound up in St. George. I knew that was dangerous. I couldn’t form any kind of attachment to Charlie. I thought we’d maybe wind up good friends at some point. But I wasn’t sure I could ever laugh and forget all about what had happened.
I applied for a job at Target and they actually hired me. I wore a loose shirt to the interview, but my baby bump was growing quickly. I knew I wouldn’t be able to hide my pregnancy for too long. But Target had decent benefits – even health insurance! And even though it sucked working in a shitty department store, it was still better than sitting at home all day.
Unlike me, Charlie hadn’t ever finished high school. But in a place like St. George, Utah, that didn’t matter all that much. He put a few ads up in town and on Craigslist, and soon he was working the odd job or two. He did some mechanical work for a neighbor, cleared a yard for another neighbor. I was impressed. I guess, based on Jack, I thought all tough guys wanted to be lazy. Charlie was really changing my impression of men, at least the kind of men I’d always been attracted to.
There were two bedrooms in the cottage, and I loved my room. It was the first room I’d had to myself since I’d lived with my parents, and I honestly thought it was perfect. It was small, sure, and the bed was uncomfortable. But it was mine, all mine, and there was a lock on the door. I started cutting pictures from magazines and making collages on the wall, and soon it felt like home, like a sanctuary. Charlie was good about never coming in. He’d knock on the door sometimes, to tell me he was going to the store or whatever, but he never even put his hand on the damn doorknob.
Charlie’s room was across the hall, and I didn’t go in there, either. He left the door open during the day but I’d usually close it as soon as he’d left for whatever job he was doing that morning. I didn’t like seeing his clothes, scattered all over the floor. I didn’t like seeing the bed, still dented and creased from where he had slept. But most of all, I couldn’t stand the smell. The smell of man, pure and raw. It turned me on every time I caught a whiff, and I couldn’t have that. Not now, not with a baby on the way. Not with the man who had literally kidnapped me.
Charlie was good to his word about buying a car. He went out that first day and came home with a shitty, rusted pickup truck. I laughed when I sat in it for the first time. There was a small hole in the floorboards, and I could see the road beneath us as we drove through town. It was a stick shift, and Charlie was real surprised when he found out I knew how to drive a manual. Still, I didn’t like driving the truck. The clutch had to be double-pumped every time, and I wasn’t strong enough to do it without making my arm sore for the rest of the day. Aside from the tattoos and biker clothes, Charlie and I were starting to look like real citizens of St. George, real people from small-town America.
Before I knew it, we’d been living there for a month. Time was flying by – every day seemed shorter than the last. And every day, my pregnancy seemed like more and more of a burden. I felt gypped. I always heard how pregnancy made women glowing and happy, how they felt naturally blessed and radiant. I didn’t feel any of that shit. I was sick in the mornings and evenings. My feet were so swollen I couldn’t wear any shoes aside from moccasins I bought on sale at Target. My belly swelled and my breasts were uncomfortably sore. They were bigger, but they hurt so much that I couldn’t even face the spray in the shower. The droplets of water felt like icy pellets, raining down on my sensitive skin.
Charlie didn’t say much, either. He’d glance up at me every now and then, but we fell into a pattern of not really talking. I didn’t mind. I started reading a lot – baby magazines and baby books from the library. I didn’t really have any idea of what to expect. I’d been an only child; I’d never really been around kids before. And the more I read, the more overwhelmed I felt. I didn’t really know how much stuff I’d need for a baby. The anecdotes in the books were terrifying, too. All these women talking about how having a baby completely ruined their sleep cycle, their sex life, and their body. Of course, all of the cautionary tales were bookended with “But I’ve never been happier! My baby is such a joy!”
After a while, it all seemed like the same shit. All of these happy white girls who’d had kids with their college boyfriend-turned-husband. All of these happy couples adding to their family, talking about how to find a nanny who’d fit in with everyone.
“You all right?”
Charlie’s voice made me jump. I gasped and blinked, clapping a hand to my chest. My heart was already racing – the Nicolette from months ago would have laughed at how little it took to unsettle me now.
“Sorry,” I said, blushing as I stood up and put the baby book down. “Just a little sick of these bitches talking about coordinating nursery colors.”
Charlie laughed. “What, you’re not painting the room in pink and blue with little elephants everywhere?”
I rolled my eyes. “For one thing, the baby will be sleeping in my room,” I said. The air between us turned awkward and I swallowed hard. “And another thing, where the hell are the damn books for knocked-up white trash girls, huh? They don’t tell you where you’re supposed to put your nipple rings when you breastfeed!” I laughed at my own joke. “Or what to do if you have to run because your baby daddy is coming after you.”
Charlie didn’t laugh. “You’ll figure it out,” he said. “Nicolette, you doin’ okay?”
I nodded. “Yeah,” I said, after a beat. “I am. I think we’re doing real well out here. I mean, I never would have expected to live someplace like St. George. But it ain’t all bad, is it?”
Charlie shook his head. “There’s some good work, at least.”
“Good.” I nodded. I felt awkward – this was probably the longest conversation we’d had in months. We didn’t even eat dinner together. If I was home early enough, I usually cooked and then put Charlie’s portion in the fridge or left it in the oven to keep it warm. Charlie wouldn’t eat until later, in front of the television. Sometimes he’d even fall asleep there, right on the couch, like an old man.
“Hey,” Charlie said shortly. “You call the hospital yet? You probably need to have a checkup real soon.”
“Yeah.” I shifted uncomfortably in the chair. Sitting for any amount of time was enough to make my ass go numb. “I mean, I did call them last week. They want me to come in for a checkup in a couple of days.”
“Want me to drive you?”
“Sure,” I said. “If you’re not working.”
“I can rearrange shit if I have to,” Charlie replied. He turned towards the door and took a step, then turned back towards me. “Hey, Nicolette, I hope everything goes well at the hospital. If you need anything, let me know.”
And before I had a chance to thank him, he was gone.
I was pretty surprised by the change in Charlie’s attitude. He’d gone from only caring about me as some kind of package to be delivered, to a man who actually seemed to care about my wellbeing and the wellbeing of my child. Well, technically our child, I guess. After all, he had agreed to be the father.
“Charlie,” I said sharply, standing up. “Wait.”
I heard heavy footsteps in the hallway and just like that, he was back in the doorway. There was obvious concern on his face.
“What? What’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you in pain?”
“No,” I said. “Um, I want to tell you something, okay?”
“Okay.” Charlie’s forehead creased and he crossed his arms in front of his powerful, muscular chest. When I’d first seen him, he had been cut. But now, doing manual labor, he looked positively hunky. His biceps were the size of small tree trunks, and his pecs showed easily under the thin shirt he was wearing.
“I was pregnant before—Remember? I told you that,” I began, lowering myself back down into the chair and wincing. “In the car, I think.”
Charlie nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “Did you have an abortion? What happened? You just said you lost it.”
“I was about four months pregnant,” I said. “A little bit less than where I am now. And Jack knew – he was even kind of excited about being a dad. He used to talk about what it would be like to have a son.”
Charlie didn’t reply. He stepped over the threshold of the room and leaned against the wall.
“And things were going okay. I mean, about as well as they could have been going,” I said slowly. Remembering this was painful, and for a moment I almost wanted to tell him ‘never mind.’ But I knew I had to come out and say it.
“What happened?”
“Jack got real drunk one night and came home early. Said one of the guys had made a joke about me. Well, obviously, that meant I’d been fucking around on him.” I swallowed and took a deep breath. “I didn’t know anything about it. I couldn’t have even told you what the guy looked like. But his word meant more to Jack’s than my word did, and before long, Jack decided I had a bastard in my belly. He chased me around the house, throwing things at me. I tripped and fell over, and Jack started kicking me in the stomach and punching me. I yelled for him to stop, but he wouldn’t quit until my nose was so full of blood that I had to breathe through my mouth.”
Charlie sucked in a gulp of air. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered. “You fuckin’ with me?”
“No,” I said softly. Although I’d managed to stay calm through most of the story, I couldn’t stop the fresh tears from welling up in my eyes. “He kept kicking me and punching me until I passed out from the pain. And when I woke up, there was blood everywhere. Between my legs, on the floor, in my hair.”
“Holy shit.” Charlie buried his face in his hands. “That’s fucked up, Nicolette.”
“I went to the hospital in the morning,” I said softly. “As soon as I woke up. Jack was gone, and I called a cab to come get me. The driver almost didn’t want me in the back because of all the blood, but I told him I’d pay extra. I had to make sure my baby was safe. But when I got to the hospital, they told me I’d lost it.”
“Fuck,” Charlie muttered. “Are you okay?”
I looked up at him as a tear rolled down my cheek. “I don’t know,” I whispered. “I really don’t know.”