Eggshells Don’t Always Break Easily.

 

                “Please be right. Please be here.” I couldn’t help muttering a little out loud under my breath. I knew better than to assume she was going to be here. She was in England. Not Buxley. That is why we have been emailing every day since she left—different time zones and hardly any time. But when I got Bobbi’s call, I knew.

                “Two in the—really, B?” Really.

                “I know, Jess. I messed up. Big. But you need to help me.” I heard terror in her voice with minor symptoms of pain and panic.

                “In Buxley?” How was it possible? She wasn’t supposed to be back for two months.

                “Please. Come.” It was all I heard before the dial tone.

               

                Sleep had come too easily tonight after the double shift. It had been a day full of newborn little girls and one year old checkups. Even in a town as little as Buxley, I find myself amazed by the amount of happiness that can elude from the hospital—a place that is normally only thought of as dread.

                “Make sure you take your vitamins.”

                “Don’t forget to watch your food intake.”

                “She IS gorgeous, but more importantly, she is healthy.”

                “What are you going to name him?
                My job never has a dull day. Someone is always joyfully walking in, waiting for the results.

                It is exciting through the pain. Those bundles of joy bring out every mother’s smile and warm every heart. How else can someone deal with all the screaming, crying and pooping? God’s little Miracle. If it wasn’t for the way their tiny silky fingers wrapped around my pinky one, maybe I wouldn’t get as hooked either.

                That’s how those Miracles work. That’s how they get every parent so wrapped up in caring for them. It’s typical, its biological but it is still amazing.

                There is something about the amount of emotions that resonate off of the seashell white walls and baby blue vinyl floors; it controls us all. It leaves us with feelings of contentment and joy, as if the baby was our own beautiful Miracle. The florescent lights just helped heat up the rooms full of emotion and no one was left untouched. Following those walls, I went to my own snow colored building that I called home. I always seemed exhausted. Maybe it was the emotional connections that I witnessed all day that would make my own eyes beg for the pillowed dreamland of my bed.

                Before I met Bobby, I’d come home most nights with such a crash from everyone else’s highs, that I would break down with jealousy and resentment. I was always in a bad place remembering all those smiling faces and no one smiling for me. Bobbi changed all that. Bobbi gave me a reason to smile and always smiled back.

                As my hair hit the pillow, I couldn’t help but see Bobbi’s angelic smile as I lulled myself to sleep.

                “You are my sunshine. My golden sunshine. When you’re not with me, my skies are—“ What in the world? Ringtone. Right. Bobbi? Calling? Sigh.

                “Hello?” I managed to groan as I clicked the answer button. That was the start to my two in the morning runaround. I had no idea where she was so I slipped on my jeans and hoodie. I grabbed my keys and left. I wandered to her normal hangouts. Typical bar scenes that people knew Bobbi by name. She was always the life of the party, no matter where she found herself, she was a charm no one could resist.

                No one from Chances saw her in months. The Annex was abnormally dead for a Friday night. Hydrate was unsuccessful as well. It was uncommon that if she was back, she wouldn’t hit up her friends that frequented these places. As I continued to walk, my thoughts turned darker and darker each corner I turned. I tried her phone numerous times. It started to ring and then went to voicemail.

                Dead.

                I prayed it was just the phone.

                Bobbi was supposed to be in England. She hadn’t really assumed I’d go there to get her… Did she? By the time I realized it, I was walking straight for her buzzer. 216 Maple, apartment 2d.

                Buzz. “Bobbi? Bobbi? Buzz me up. It’s Jessica.” I waited hoping that the light I saw around the corner of the apartment was from B’s place.

                Sure enough, I heard the electrifying scream of the buzzer sounded. A calming surge pulsed through me. Hopefully this was all just a big false alarm.

                “At least she is home.” I whispered to myself as I climbed the single flight of stairs. I knocked on her door.

                “B?” I tried the handle. It was unlocked. “Hey Bobbi? What are you doing h—.” That was when I saw her, sprawled out on the floor, barely crawling to the door. Helpless.

                And she wasn’t the only one. To think that in the five months that I hadn’t seen her. This could happen. It was impossible. The math started quickly in my mind. When was the last time I saw her? April? Is this possible?

                I just gazed horrorstruck. She easily weighed an extra 50 pounds. She had to be pretty far along the way her stomach was protruding out of her, giving her no hope for balance.

                “I am taking you to the hospital.” All my emotions seemed to drain away from my face. I reacted as any nurse would. She was a patient. Not Bobbi. Not the love of my life. Just another faceless patient. I helped her to her feet as she wept.

                “I’m… sorry.” She blurted out. Sorry? I couldn’t go there right now. I grabbed her keys and guided her down to her car.

                As we drove I blasted the music to overpower her crying and attempted pleas. I dealt with this every day. Every day these children were brought into the world and parents had tears of joy. Parents? Part of me wished that it was even remotely possible it could be mine. Genetics don’t work that way. Love doesn’t create babies. I learned this like everyone else. You needed a woman and a man.

                As we approached the hospital, I timed her contractions. I tried to continue to focus my thoughts on the car, on the music, on the clock. Anything but the woman next to me.

                Bobbi was done screaming over the music. She turned it down as she whimpered in pain.

                “Let me explain, Jess. Please.” Her voice cracked as she blurted the words out.

                “I think your body language explained it all.” I responded and as if that little ball of flesh agreed—she had another contraction, causing her to scream, yet again.

                “I know” she panted. “That I let you down. That—I broke—your heart. That’s why I left. I figured—if you didn’t see—I could—Ow!—Distance—too much.”

                “Well, I am glad that the last two years have meant so much to you. That I deserve the truth.” Almost there. Just one more block away. It felt like I hadn’t so much as blinked since realizing why I had been on speed dial. “How along are you?” I asked, no emotions showing. None felt either, no pain and no anger. Just numbness, everywhere.

                “It wasn’t supposed to happe—ouch! Seven months. I do—love you, Jess. I am—sorry.” Upon hearing those words muttered through her cracked lips , I began to laugh uncontrollable. The first feeling I felt in what seemed to be hours.

                “Love? Enough to leave me for a man? Where is he anyway? You know what. Don’t answer that. Have the nurses on staff call him.” I said as I parked the car, opened the door and waved the man pulling an empty wheelchair over.

                “Jess? Is this—“ Of course Cliff recognized Bobbi right away. Every work party since I started at Stevens, she had been there.

                “Take her inside. You know protocol. Find out where the father is. Oh and Cliff? I won’t be in tomorrow. He nodded as I got back towards the driver’s door.

                “Jess! Come with me please! Don’t make me do this alone.” I let go of the handle. For a couple seconds I considered what it would be like. Walking in those white rooms and play make believe as a parent. I did it every day whether I was in a position like this or not. I could stare at that baby blue floor as I realized the gender and I could sooth B like I always could before. But this time, my imagination wouldn’t be strong enough  to block out those feelings of hate and I refused to bring the one happy place in the hospital down.

                I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t look around with my head spinning with questions.

                Emails. Everyone said it was fishy. I should have listened. The hospital felt like a morgue. Walking in there meant admitting that I was the walking dead. Instead? I called up the only person I could think too.

                “Jake? Bobbi’s in the hospital. Here in Buxley. Yeah, Steven’s. She’s pregnant.” My own eggshells finally stopped holding back my tears as I cried into the phone.