Chapter 2
During the drive down to Madison, I worried, about her, about us. I had to believe we’d be all right, trust our bond was solid. I also worried about the guys I’d be living with, and if what I’d left there in May would still be there. Worry and me were well acquainted.
The house was good, well, let’s just say, as I remembered it. My room looked the same. My trusted bike stood against the wall with the chain lock intact. I hauled my stuff in, made my bed and spent a little time catching up with the two roommates that were there. These guys weren’t close friends, just a group thrown together out of financial need for cheap housing. We did our own thing, with only minor hiccups. I could put up with anything to make it through the year and be finished.
Annie had her first day in the classroom with her students. I knew I had little to no chance of catching her on a break with a call, so I texted. I let her know I made it and was settling in and how much I loved her. Around noon I got a text back.
I owe you an apology. You may recall I never was very good with our good-byes. I’m so sorry. I love you with my whole heart, Mike. I know this is hard on you, too. We’ll talk tonight, okay? I miss you and can’t wait for Friday. I love you. Followed by every heart emoji she could find.
My spirits lifted, and especially after hearing her voice that evening, my sense of well-being returned. We were okay, we could do this.
~ ~ ~
My coming and going lapsed into a fairly smooth routine. About a month into it, I came home on a Friday evening to our tiny apartment. After a relaxing dinner and cleaning up, I moved over to the couch and collapsed, patting the spot next to me for Annie to land. Instead, she dropped into my lap, reaching her arms around my neck.
“Oh man, it feels so good to be in my own place, with my very own girl.” I kissed her on the cheek as I reached for the remote. She took it out of my hand and dropped it onto the cushion next to my leg.
“Mike, my love—I have something I want to show you,” she said, sounding all mysterious and sexy. I took it as an invitation to start making out, running my hand up under her shirt. She grabbed my wrist. “Mike! Stop it!” Her tone remained playful.
She released my retreating hand and dug into the pocket of her pink fitted hoodie, pulling out a paper and unfolding it. It had a black background and a white swirly diagram. She studied my face as I finally realized what I was looking at.
“An ultrasound? Who’s having a baby?”
“We are,” she said, her eyebrows raised. Her face wore a tiny hint of a smile mixed with apprehension.
My eyes narrowed as I fought to keep from saying something I would probably regret.
My silence should have lasted longer, but it didn’t. “I thought we talked about this, Annie. We were going to wait until we’re married and on our feet a little.”
Her arms slipped off my neck. She straightened up so she wasn’t leaning against me anymore. “Before you go off on me, I want you to know I never missed a single day on my pill, Mike, not once. The doctor said about one in a thousand get pregnant on it, and I guess I’m that lucky one.” I remained stunned. “I know this isn’t part of your plans, but sometimes stuff happens, and you just have to deal with it, be a little flexible.”
The heat worked its way up my neck, my ears burning, and I swallowed, still speechless.
“I never would have done this to you intentionally, Mike. Is that what you think? After what you went through before—I wouldn’t do that! Not ever!” She slid off my lap and walked over to where her jacket and purse hung on a hook, and then to her keys that rested on a little table. With tears in her eyes, she said, “I’m going to go see a movie or something, and you can maybe rethink that look I saw on your face when I told you. We can talk when I get back.”
The door slammed. I made no move to stop her. “Holy crap—definitely not in the plan!” My hand scrubbed over my chin, my thoughts swirling.
I had bent over backwards to keep out of debt and live within my means. I worked for two years after high school and took online classes to save money. It was just part of who I was to be smart and practical and set goals and have a plan. Now this!
Going into the bedroom, I searched my drawer for my running shorts. I stripped down then pulled them on, along with a long-sleeved shirt and shoes, then headed out the door.
I wasn’t much of an athlete, but running I could do anytime, anywhere. The crisp October evening was perfect, helped to clear my head. I should’ve been spending it with Annie. But damn it! We’d talked about how this wasn’t the time to start a family back in the summer. Was she already pregnant then and feeling me out? No—she actually got her period that day . . .
The hurt I saw in her misty green eyes killed me, and I was the one who put it there. What a jerk. After returning home, I sat with one of my school books opened on my lap, but what I read wasn’t registering. My mind channeled thoughts of her and what I could do to make it right.
When the door finally opened, I breathed easier. “Hey.” I closed the book and stood up.
“Hi.”
“You okay?”
“Yes—” then “no—” and she was crying. In an instant, I sprang to her side and wrapped her shoulders with my arms, pulling her close.
“Annie, I’m so sorry. It takes me a little while to process things, you know? You’ve had some time to let it sink in, but me—you kind of just hit me with it. One thing for sure is that I love you, and I’ll love our baby just as much. We’ll make it work, I promise.” I meant every word.
Her teary eyes searched mine. “I don’t want you to think I tricked you into this. Even the doctor was surprised, Mike. That’s why she did the internal ultrasound to make sure everything looked okay.”
“I know you wouldn’t—I don’t think that. I love you. It’s good, we’re good.” I kissed the top of her head, then those delicate lips when she finally tipped her face up. “Wow, a baby. Show me that picture again.” Slowly I would come around, I had no choice.
On Sunday, my parents invited us over to watch the Packer game. We decided to share our news with them. Making this announcement triggered some of the same feelings in me from four years ago, when I needed to make a similar revelation to my parents. The circumstances that time differed greatly.
My pregnant ex had accused me of being the father when I wasn’t—part of a long story, with lots of drama. Still, I bore some guilt about bringing up a sensitive subject with so many memories attached.
When we arrived, snacks already occupied the end of the island counter. My dad offered us beverages, and my mom stirred sloppy joes in a slow cooker. The scent of tomato, hamburger, onion and green pepper filled the room.
Wearing a feigned smile, I spoke. “Well, um, we have a little news for you.” Mom wiped her hands on a dish towel and moved over next to where I stood. Her blue eyes scanned Annie, her smile a little apprehensive. Dad handed me a beer and gave Annie the ice water she requested, then pushed his glasses up at the bridge. His gray hair almost perfectly matched his eye color. How he’d react to the news worried me the most. I so looked up to him, and so many times I’d let him down.
“Don’t keep us waiting!” Mom gave me a one-armed squeeze.
“We’re having a baby—due in April.” My face turned pink. I could feel the warmth, embarrassed and feeling like I ought to explain. But it was none of their business. My arm tucked protectively around Annie’s waist. She literally glowed. Glad one of us could be excited. “We’re not exactly sure what we’re going to do about the wedding. We’ll figure it out.”
“Oh, grand-baby number four, the family just keeps growing!” Mom said, grinning at us. My brother Paul and his wife, Emily, were also expecting.
Mom was my soft place. Though her and Dad were most assuredly a team, she played the bigger role in keeping our family united. I relaxed a bit, happy that she didn’t grill us about details. She hugged Annie, who brought out the ultrasound picture to show her.
“Congratulations!” She kissed my cheek. If she had questions, and I was sure she did, she kept them to herself.
“Thanks, Mom.”
My anxious eyes met with my dad’s. A hand extended in my direction and we shook, then he patted my shoulder. I finally felt like I might actually be able to enjoy the spread of food laid out.
It took until half-time in the game for me and my dad to have a moment alone. I could feel him looking at me, and eventually I dared to let our glances meet. “What?”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“But you want to—just go ahead and say it.”
“Tell me you’re going to finish school.”
“Yeah, of course I am. It’s not going to get any easier. I realize that, but I have to. I know that.”
“That’s what needs to happen, Mike, security for your family. You can do it.” The huge breath he exhaled and the nod of his head told me he approved of my honorable intentions. His empathetic grin warmed me. He reached over, tousling my hair.
I smiled back. I totally expected him to come down hard on me. In the next instant, my eyes glossed over as I fidgeted with my hands in my lap.
“It’ll be okay, son. We’re here for you.” His arms briefly circled my shoulders. “I’m getting you another beer—I think you need one.”
Running a hand through my hair, I nodded. “Thanks, Dad.”
Later on, Annie and I relaxed on the couch back home. I delayed returning to school until the morning, so we had another night together. Toying with Annie’s fingers interlaced with mine, I said, “We can’t wait until June to get married.” Her head rested in my lap. My other hand brushed an auburn tangle off her forehead.
“Why not?” Immediately, she started to lay out her case. “I should pretty much be back to my normal size by then—well, hopefully. We’ve already put a down payment on the caterer and the venue, church is scheduled—Mike, you know how badly I want this wedding.”
“And I want our kid to have my name.”
“He’ll have your name!”
“He? You know this already?” It made me smile, the prospect of a son.
“No, it’s too early to know. I just hate referring to it as ‘it’. We should give him a gestational name.”
“Is there such a thing?”
She nodded, “Well, for us there is.”
“Zygote.”
The roll of her eyes and her exclamation of, “Oh my God, Mike,” were accompanied by an elbow to the ribs. “It needs to be something sweet, like Little One.”
Leaning down, I touched my lips to her forehead, then gently ran my hand over her abdomen. “Little One, it is. Have you thought about real names?” I smiled, because knowing Annie, she already had a list hidden somewhere.
“I’m working on it.” She tilted her head back. “I hope he has the Jarrid eyes. You and your brothers have the most gorgeous blue eyes. Hon, what if we just quietly get married with a justice of the peace or something early next year? Then we can still have the big wedding like we planned?”
“That’ll work.” Problem solved.
~ ~ ~
Most of the leaves were down, and the air definitely took on a briskness that signaled the coming of another long, cold, Wisconsin winter. Back in Madison, I still took my bike to class. Around campus, parking proved problematic. Besides, if I could save a few bucks on fees and gas, I was good with that.
Just down the block the house came into view. As I coasted up on the sidewalk, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I dug it out, turning it on as I hopped off the bike and walked it up toward the front porch. I had just enough time to grab a sandwich then head over to the library to do some research for a project I was working on. I saw it was Annie calling. Strange for the middle of the day.
“Hey, honey.” I one-armed the bike up the steps so I could lock it to the rails on the porch.
“Mike?” With the thickness in her voice, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I stopped in my tracks.
“Annie, what’s up?”
“I need you to come home, babe.” Next came this horrible sobbing.
Four fingers pressed against my forehead. I had started going inside but turned back around. “Sweetie, just tell me what’s wrong.”
Her breath caught several times before she actually got the words out. “I lost the baby this afternoon. I had a miscarriage.”
My knees gave out, my hand lurched for the railing. “Oh, no! Oh, God, Annie! No!” Sitting down on the steps, I closed my eyes, sort of rocking myself as the hand holding the phone shook. “I’m on my way. I’ll leave right away. Are you okay? Oh my God!”
“I’m okay, just a little achy and crampy. I guess that’s normal. I just need you right now.”
“I’m so sorry this happened. Baby, I love you. I’m on my way.” Hanging up, I jammed my fingers into my eyes. I should’ve been there for her.
With the phone still in my hand, I scrolled for my mom’s number. After four rings, she picked up. “Mom—” All of a sudden I couldn’t speak. I gulped air and held my breath.
“Mike, what’s wrong?”
“Um—Annie’s lost the baby. I’m on my way home, but I was wondering if you could maybe go over there so she’s not all alone?”
“Aw, honey, no! I’m so sorry. Is she at the apartment? I’ll go right away. Are you going to be all right making that long drive? I can have your dad come get you.”
“No, Mom, I’ll be fine. Besides it would take way too long. I’ll see you in a couple of hours. Thanks so much, Mom.”
“I love you, Mike.”
~ ~ ~
The key rattled in the lock, and the door flew open. I rushed in, dropping my duffel and finding Annie curled up with a fleece in the corner of the couch, a cup of tea clutched protectively between her hands and Mom at her side. Putting the cup down, she stood up, and I enveloped her. I kissed the top of her head while she caved into me. Finally, she put her cheek next to mine and our tears mingled.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Oh, God, Annie! “There’s nothing to be sorry about, baby. I love you. Are you okay? Want to sit back down?” My mom moved out of the way. I curled my arm around Annie’s waist and walked her back, wrapping the blanket around her legs. Mom rewarmed Annie’s tea, giving it back to her. Before I could sit down, she hugged me, worried eyes almost piercing through me.
“I’m okay,” I reassured her.
After Mom left, I cradled Annie against my chest. She would seem to be all right, then she’d be crying again. Talk about feeling helpless. That was me. Softly, I spoke next to her ear. “It’s amazing how in only a few short weeks you already have this bond. You have all these plans and dreams. That’s what’s so hard—we’ll never know what this child might’ve been.”
“I know.” She paused, and I watched her face from my awkward angle. She was struggling with what she wanted to say. “I feel like such a failure, Mike. I couldn’t even do this right.”
“Annie, no! You did everything right. I’m sure the doctor told you that—you saw the doctor, right?” She nodded. “Well, what did she say?”
“She said there was probably something wrong with the fetus—that it couldn’t have survived. I might be more likely to miscarry next time.”
Letting out a sigh, I kissed the top of her head, kneading her shoulder with my hand. “The next one will be just fine. Don’t even think about that.”
She sat up and shimmied back into the corner of the couch, resting a hand on my neck. “I’ve got the tissue.”
“What?”
“What I passed, the baby, our Little One. He’s in a specimen cup. I couldn’t just let them throw him out as ‘medical waste’. I want to bury him somewhere, so we can honor his short little life.”
My eyebrows pulled together and as I wrinkled my forehead. “Okay, honey, if that’s what you want.” The idea sort of creeped me out. Was this even legal?
She snuggled back against my warm body, her arms around my neck. “I do—and I love you, Mike.”
There hadn’t been any significant deaths in my family, nothing that really impacted me. One grandma I barely knew died when I was very little, no one else. So this was new and unsettling for me. As for Annie, well, profound sadness engulfed her.
Toast and hot chocolate made up the menu for the following morning. I would’ve done more, but that was all she wanted. Sitting next to her on the couch, I put my hand on her thigh.
“I’ve been thinking. We could take a drive up to the cottage and maybe put the baby on the edge of the flowerbed by the deck. I can ask my dad. I’m sure it’ll be okay.”
“That sounds perfect, I think.”
“Tomorrow?”
That evening, Pete Petrovich, my best friend since kindergarten, and his wife, Julie, stopped over for a little while. Usually when the four of us got together, we’d drink a little and shoot the breeze, but not that night. We were glad for the company and also glad when they left. Nonetheless, we were grateful for their support.
~ ~ ~
The sun shone brightly, too welcoming and cheery for such a sad day. Though still cool in the morning, the forecast predicted close to seventy degrees for a high.
Annie had gone to the store yesterday and found a pretty, embossed metal box that fit the specimen cup like it was made for it. I watched her carefully line the interior with tissue paper, then place the plastic cup inside, using Super Glue to seal the lid.
She carried it in her lap all the way up north. We packed a bag to spend the night, but we weren’t certain how long we would stay. Nothing seemed certain anymore. Arriving late in the morning, we brought our things inside, including clothes and a bag of food we threw together last minute. Annie started to prepare lunch. I went out back to the shed in search of a shovel and to quickly complete another project I’d kept from her.
Neither of us were hungry. I didn’t know why she bothered with the sandwiches. I forced a half down, but she didn’t eat anything, just drank some tea. Afterward we went outside, down the steps of the deck, and scouted the flowerbed for the proper place. We chose the back corner, behind the wilted flowers, next to the deck support.
Minutes later, the hole was dug. We stood there motionless. Annie cried, again. I wanted so badly to be able to take away her emptiness, our emptiness. Brushing away a tear from my eye, I clasped my hands around her shoulders and kissed her cheek.
Kneeling down, she leaned over the hole and placed the metal box at the bottom. “Good-bye, Little One,” she whispered, and began filling the hole with the pile of dirt next to it. I knelt next to her, and together we finished the burial. I pulled a little cross I’d fashioned out of driftwood and twine from the back pocket of my jeans. Holding it up for her to see, the letters “LOJ” were painted in white on the horizontal piece. “Little One Jarrid.” My voice was thick, and the pain in my throat matched the pain in my heart. Annie touched her chest and nodded as I stuck it into the sandy soil. We clung to each other, still on our knees, and we stayed that way for a long time. To myself, I prayed for God to heal us and keep me strong for Annie.
Taking a deep breath, Annie smiled up at me as we stood. “Thank you for doing this. You are the kindest person I know. I love you, Mike.”
I gave her a sad attempt at a grin, then bent down to brush off my knees and then hers. Taking her hand between mine, I kissed it.
“I promise you, we’ll get through this, and someday soon, we’ll be happy again. I love you, too.” Giving a gentle tug, I led her down to the hammock and held it still while she climbed in, then carefully hoisted myself next to her. With her back to me, I drew up against her and nestled in as close as I could, and I held her like I would never let go. We cried until both of us fell asleep, lulled by the warm autumn breeze and the sound of water lapping against the dock.