A Not So Sweet Fairytale

“What on Earth were you thinking?” I demanded in a hiss, “That was just what they wanted. You don’t really think they’d have trouble finding a hotel. They’re so loaded they could just waltz into a lobby, give the guy $100 just to get a room for the night. Why did you have to fall for it?” I asked, then stopped, realizing that he could do the same and I wasn't trying to hurt his feelings.

“I know it was a ploy. I’m not stupid. I just thought it might give us a bit more time to make peace with them,” he shrugged and I wanted to wrap my hands around his throat.

“It doesn’t get much more peaceful than tolerance with them,” I pointed out. He nodded, his eyes glazed over, usually a sign of deep contemplation.

“Look. I’m just trying to make things right, okay? I’ve always wondered what would have been different if I’d managed to get along with them. Maybe I wouldn’t have left your mother. I dunno. It’s just that I want to make things right now, does any of this make sense?” He asked, glancing over at me as I stared out the passenger window at the passing neon lights lighting the streets of Hollywood.

“Yeah, actually it makes perfect sense,” I murmured, then seconds later I felt my entire body go rigid.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” He asked suddenly, looking very concerned.

“Nothing,” I murmured truthfully. Nothing seemed wrong, it had just been a random thing.

As soon as we got into the house I retreated to my room to watch the television for a while. Anything that would prevent the inevitable battle between my grandparents and me for a while longer was worth being alone for. It was about two o clock in the morning when it happened again, the rigid thing again. I sat up uncomfortably and then felt the bed was all wet.

“Damn,” I murmured to myself as I went to get another set of sheets from the closet in the hallway. I must have wet my bed. Then I thought back, I’d gone to the restroom right before I’d gotten into bed. After stashing the replacement sheets underneath my arm, I returned and inspected the sheets just as another wave hit me. I looked down at the wet spot and realized it didn’t smell. In fact, it wasn’t even yellow.

“Shit,” I breathed as another wave of pain hit me. I ran into Mike’s room, thumbing the light switch quicker than ever before and successfully waking him up.

“What is it? What’s wrong Torrie?” He asked innocently.

“I think it’s time to go to the hospital,” I cried. His expression was one of complete surprise for a full five seconds, then he seemed to wake up again and come to his senses.

“Alright. Get something on and I’ll meet you downstairs as soon as I can,” he said, jolting up and out of bed. I nodded, but didn’t’ argue as I hurried back down the hall to pull on a pair of sweat pants and a loose fitting t-shirt that was more like a tent than anything else, then rushed down the stairs to where Mike had already gunned the car and was ready, impatiently to go.

***

“You don’t know a single thing about this!” I screamed at the top of my lungs at the nurse trying to tell me not to drink anything, just to crunch ice.

“Painkillers or no?” She asked quickly, apparently used to the maternal verbal abuse.

I shook my head vigorously, “For the thousandth time, NO! Now get the fuck away from me!” I continued, the contractions refusing to stop.

It’ll all be over soon enough, painkillers will just give you a higher chance of complications, especially with twins.

Or so my mother had always told me.

“Mam, I just need you to take a deep breath,” a fresh nurse smiled at me, taking the place of the worn nurse. I did the best I could to breathe, but it wasn’t’ exactly a complete success, but satisfactory for the nurse.

“Now, have you been to any checkups?” I nodded.

“Any information that may help us with delivering it?” She asked kindly. I nodded again and checked to make sure Mike was safely in the lobby awaiting word to come see me.

“It’s not an it, it’s a they. They’re twins,” I admitted and she smiled again.

“Well then, let’s get on with it. The contractions are becoming closer together. You have less than half an hour before you’ll be delivering, if even that,” she said again. I tried to hold back tears, but they came streaming down my face all the same. She turned away and began to leave.

“Don’t leave me alone,” I begged and she turned around and gave me a questioning look, “I’m scared,” I explained.

***

“I don’t know how she’s doing,” Mike explained to Tre` for what seemed like the billionth time.

“Look, do you want company or not?” Tre` asked hoarsely.

“You know, I’d be glad for the company. I think I’m starting to freak out over here man,” Mike confide and Tre` hung up the phone. Mike sat back down in the plasticy blue vinyl chair that was bolted to the ground and sighed. He stood up once more, unable to contain his nerves, then paced around, twiddling his thumbs until his cell phone vibrated again.

“What hospital are you at?” Billie Joe asked.

“Memorial. Why?”

“We’re on our way. We’ll be there in ten minutes,” he informed Mike.

“But you guys are at least half an hour away,” Mike figured.

“Tre`s driving,” he explained before hanging up. Mike was just beginning to find a comfortable place in the overall uncomfortable chair, but was interrupted.

“Sir, my name is Dr. Morgan. I’ll be helping your daughter with delivery,” she beamed at Mike who shot up to mentally compare the height difference between the two and he found himself staring into bottomless green eyes that were striking to say the least.

“Nice to meet you. My name is uhhh… Mike,” he stuttered, not quite sure whether to tell the doctor who he really was just yet, but stuck out his hand all the same and the doctor shook it with a firm grasp. “How is Torrie doing?”

“Alright, but I think she could really use you right now. None of the nurses can get past her, well save Jessica. Perhaps you can calm her down. Tell her a story of when she was born or something. It usually helps,” she explained, though the smile had become strained and Mike realized she must have a dozen more mothers-to-be awaiting her.

Mike swallowed the lump in his throat that seemed to have accumulated all at once at the mention of memories that he would never know, but stood up all the same, grabbed his jacket and phone that he had left on the wooden table beside the chair, and headed to the room.

***

“I dunno. I guess I’m scared of everything. And it’s just such bad timing. I just barely met my dad for the first time seven months ago and that was only because my mom had died and left me on my own,” I explained to the nurse whose name I’d been told was Jessica.

“Well, what about the father? Will he be helping at all?” She asked honestly.

I shook my head. “He’s dead too,” I reasoned.

“Well at least you have your dad then. In fact, is that him out there?” She asked, indicating the figure peering through the glass window before entering and I nodded.

“Well, I’ll leave you two alone. Ring the button if you need to talk again,” she informed me before walking out the door and into the busy corridor of the never-ending flow of people. Mike walked in right after her and sat down on my bed. He seemed to be thinking hard about something, then all at once began, “Now I was told to tell you stories of your birth, but I thought it might actually work better if you were to tell me about yours since I’m sure you’ve heard about it more,” he smiled at me, hopeful.

“AlRIGHT,” I resigned, “MayBE it’ll hELp distrACT me from these GODdamn CONtraCTions,” I stuttered. “Well it was SUPPosedly the WORst storm of THE YEar and…”