My interaction with Laurel got me into some trouble with Alex. Telling Laurel’s posse, which apparently consisted of both boxers and MMS fighters that I had almost slept with her had apparently gotten her pretty ticked off, and she had gone to Alex –calling it sexual harassment. I got three days off work no pay, but thankfully Alex had been able to calm Laurel down, and the psychopath seemed pretty satisfied that I had gotten reprimanded.

My first day off I had borrowed Tyler’s laptop and had watched some video clips online of female MMA fights, and they’re pretty rough. A part of me is impressed –especially after I looked up Laurel and saw some videos of her fights. She’s a damn beast. She’s the Donte of female MMA fighting. I’ve never really considered MMA before; I’ve always just boxed. There seems to be a lot more to this MMA shit, though. They wrestle, they box, and they do some crazy karate shit too when they get in the cage. It’s hard to believe a woman like Laurel does this kind of shit. I’m not sure whether or not to be turned on or confused by this.

Today is my third day off, and I’m pretty thankful that I’ll be heading back to work tomorrow. I’m not sure how I’ll do about seeing Laurel and her group of bitches, but we’ll see. A part of me is excited about today. I had called Brandi, and she had actually answered the phone. She still has a shit ton of my clothes at the mansion, so I had asked her if she wouldn’t mind if I came and got it. She said that that would be fine, and I think that that is a huge step. The thought of getting to see her has me walking on air.

I dip into my first paycheck a bit to buy her some flowers. I’m pretty sure it’s going to annoy her more than anything, but I want to make some sort of kind gesture. She loves orchids, so I buy a pot of orchids with these pretty white and purplish colored petals. I don’t exactly expect us to get back together; I mean, she did divorce me, after all, but I would like to try to make up for all of the shit I put her through. I know flowers aren’t going to do that, but I do want her to know I’m thinking about her. I want her to know I’m sorry, and who knows what might happen later down the road? Time can heal a number of wounds. I just hope this one is not too deep that it would be impossible.

I’m still driving her pink car; I’m sure she’ll at least manage a laugh about that when I get there. The pot of orchids is sitting in the passenger’s seat of the car –buckled up just in case. I pull up to the outer gate of the mansion and hit the buzzer. I hear Marie, one of our old maids, speaking. “Mr. Trial, good to hear your voice,” she says sweetly; she had always liked me. I’m actually surprised Brandi kept her because the two of them had not gotten along great when they had first met. “I’m buzzing you in,” she says through the speaker, and the gates open.

I smile as I drive up the familiar cobblestone driveway and park next to the large fountain at the base of the main stairwell that leads up to the front porch. I shove my keys into my pockets and go around to get the flowers. I can’t wait to see Brandi. Marty had told me she had gained a bit of weight, but I bet that looks good on her. She has always been too skinny for her body type being a professional ballet dancer and all. Marie opens the large entryway doors, and she smiles at me. “Good morning,” she says to me and invites me in. She points over towards the den as we make our way inside. “Brandi already boxed up all of your clothes for you and put them in the den.”

I look around anxiously. “Where is she?”

Marie turns and looks at me, taking note of the flowers. Her perky smile disappears, and she suddenly is wearing a sympathetic gaze. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Mr. Trial, but she’s not here. She went to grab herself some breakfast while you were here.”

I should have known she wouldn’t want to see me. She had packed up all of my clothes just so I wouldn’t have to rummage through the house. She had probably told Marie to let me in and to watch me to make sure I didn’t go exploring. “Here,” I say and hand Marie the pot of flowers, “You can have them.”

She stands there, holding the pot of orchids. “I will give them to Brandi,” she assures me, “I’m sure she will love them. She loves orchids.”

“Yeah,” I say softly. I head into the den, and there are a crazy amount of boxes. I’m actually surprised she didn’t try to keep some of my clothes because it looks like she must have packed every single clothing item I owned –probably so I wouldn’t have an excuse to come back. “Look, all of that is not going to fit in the little car I have. Would it be okay if I called Marty and had him bring his truck?”

“I will have to ask Brandi,” Marie says and scurries into the kitchen to locate a phone and to put the pot of flowers down.

While she is getting permission from Brandi to have Marty come by to help, I go ahead and start carrying boxes out. I have way more clothes than I thought. I’ll probably try to sell some of it because all of this is not going to fit in Tyler’s apartment –plus, I doubt I’ll be going anywhere fancy enough to where I need fifty different suits. After about three trips to the car, Marie informs me that it’s okay for me to call Marty. I had figured as such; Brandi doesn’t want me using any excuse to return.

After calling Marty, I finish loading down the Volkswagen and then take a seat in the den –staring at the vast number of boxes left. I see that she has taken our wedding picture down from the mantle, and it really stings. I can’t blame her, though; I wouldn’t want to see that picture of my drunk ass hanging over the fireplace either.

Suddenly I have to piss, and I stand up to leave the den. Marie catches me and blocks me from leaving. She pretends like that is not what she’s doing. “Where are you going, Mr. Trial?” she asks. This pretty much confirms that Marie had been tasked with keeping an eye on me.

“I just got to go to the bathroom, Marie,” I say as kindly as I can. “Is that okay?”

“Oh, yes, that’s fine,” she says and steps aside.

I head towards the hall bath, and I see her dip into the kitchen for a moment. I can’t help myself; I hurry up the stairs to our old bedroom while Marie is not paying attention. I guess I just wanted to see what all she had changed. Not much is different, and I feel like I can confirm she’s been sleeping here alone; I just wanted to know if a new guy had already made it into her life, and from the looks of things she is still single. There’s no other man’s shirt lying around, at least. I see her ballet shoes lying on the far side of the floor. Weird –she had always been very particular about where she put those…. it looks like she had thrown them. I frown, realizing she probably had done so in frustration because she’s still in rehab for her elbow from what I have heard. I really messed this woman up.

Recalling that I still had to use the bathroom, I slip into the master. I had almost forgotten how huge the bathroom was. I think of Tyler’s toilet that is smack dab in the middle of his kitchen and cringe. There is nothing more uncomfortable than taking a shit in the morning and then having Tyler coming out of his bedroom to make himself some coffee. It makes it feel like a prison.

I take a moment to relish the large bathroom, and I piss in the nice, clean toilet. As I am washing my hands, I notice a few pill bottles sitting out on the counter. What is Brandi taking? I pick them up and discover that they’re prenatal vitamins, and my stomach drops. “No,” I say under my breath and drop the bottle into the sink in surprise. Brandi’s pregnant.

My knees shake, and I wind up sitting on the floor of the bathroom in complete shock. “Mr. Trial!” I hear Marie’s voice as she darts into the bathroom. “You can’t be in here,” she sees what I’ve found, and she looks completely mortified.

I stand up and stare at her, “Did you know?”

Marie starts crying. “She’s going to fire me if she finds out I let you back here, and you found that!” She starts pushing me out of the bathroom.

We wind up back downstairs, and poor Marie is pacing in the kitchen. I’m just sitting on the couch in the den, completely dumbfounded. She’s pregnant –she’s pregnant, and she doesn’t want me to know. What was she planning on doing? Hiding my kid from me? I think I might throw up. My mind goes back to when Marty had told me he thought Brandi had gained some weight, and I start shaking.

How could she not tell me? Marie eventually works up the courage to come join me in the den, and I glare at her slightly. “You weren’t going to tell me, Marie?” I ask.

“She threatened to fire me,” she says. “Please, you can’t tell her that you know.”

What am I supposed to do? Just pretend that I don’t know? “How far along is she?” I ask.

“Almost four months,” she says and then shows me a slip of paper she had had in her hands. It’s an ultrasound.

It takes my breath away. I hear a buzzing noise coming from the kitchen; it’s probably Marty, and Marie hurries off to go buzz him in. I sit there staring at the photograph. You can’t tell much from it, but the little thing is holding its little fist up –that much I can see clearly. I can’t seem to pull myself away from the picture. I know Marie is not going to let me keep this, so I snap a picture with my phone.

I wonder if she had been showing any at our court dates? Probably not; most women don’t stop showing until a little later, but Brandi is so skinny. Any little bump would have been evident on her. Thinking back, I can recall her wearing this oversized sweater once. She had been hiding it even then. How could she do this to me?

Marie takes the ultrasound photograph away just as Marty is entering into the house. I don’t really hear him; my ears are ringing as I stare at the picture on my phone. “Hey man, I got the truck,” he says as he is standing over me. “Jonathan? Hey man, you all right?”

I can’t even function. I’m going to be a father, and the mother of my child seems hell bent on keeping me away. I just don’t know what to do.

“Earth to Jonathan!” Marty snaps his fingers in front of my face. “Man, what the hell? Are you getting sappy being back here or something?”

I shake it off and shove my phone into my pocket. I don’t know if I’m ready to tell the guys about this one just yet. The two of us load up his truck and head over to Tyler’s. I drive in a slight haze, still thinking about the picture of my unborn child and the way the little baby had held that tiny fist up like a boxer.