Gerard's Little (Big) Secret
Bert, The Boss, The Friend, The Baby Namer?!
“Well, what did he say?” Frank asked, looking at me over the dinner table. When I’d gotten home, he’d had dinner all set out, and the lights dimmed, with relaxing music in the background.
I took a deep breath, and opened my mouth. “I’mpregnant.” I said quickly. He took in a sharp breath.
“W-what did he say?” I felt the tears cloud my vision.
“That I might not even survive, let alone the baby survive,” I whispered out. He looked up, eyes wide.
“Gee…”
“It’s possible, y’know?” I continued. “I’m like, the second ever man to be pregnant, whoever’s up in the sky works in funny ways to kill a person. I rather wish I’d just been shot.”
“Don’t say that!” Frank snapped, coming over. “You’re not going to die Gerard. You’re going to pull through, and we’ll talk about our options.”
“Options? What options?” I asked angrily.
I think the emotions are kicking in. “There’s no options Frank! I don’t believe in abortion, let alone think I can get one, and adoption? After all that carrying a kid around? If I even survive, or if it survives? I don’t think so!”
“We have to make this decision together!” He argued, his voice rising.
“We?” I asked incredulously. “Just like we’re pregnant, and we’re carrying the kid around, and we have the womb, right?”
“I have a part in this!” He said fiercely.
“You have DNA in this,” I said levelly. “If you don’t want it, then go.”
“I promised I’d stick by you,” He said.
“If it was just to convince me about adoption I don’t want you!” I screeched. “Get out then!” Frank clenched his fists, and his jaw twitched like it does when he’s angry. It shows he wants to throw something, but I beat him to it.
I picked up the glass, and threw it at the wall, as he walked out, not caring whether anything hit him. Adoption? He was motherfucking kidding himself if he thought I was giving my child up for adoption.
I stormed over to the broken glass with the broom and dustpan, and picked everything up, before rinsing the dishes off, and went into the bedroom, stripping down, and covering up. I ran a hand over my stomach, where another life was growing.
This was it. I was responsible for this child. No one else. The life inside me was mine to take care of, mine to raise, mine to teach right from wrong. All the blame weighed down on me in the end.
I often wondered how parents felt when they found out they were having children. Joyous? Maybe. Angry? Maybe. Stupid? In some cases. Nervous as all hell? Definitely. There’s that fear, that second-guessing of your ability to do anything. And it was here, right now.
I brushed away the tears, and closed my eyes, starting to count backwards from 500. It was the only other way I could fall asleep without Frankie. 500, 499, 498, 407….
xXx
“Gerard!” Someone shook me. “Gerard, wake up man!” I groaned, and fluttered my eyes open. Bert was standing there, his mysterious blue eyes looking down.
“Bert! Dude, how’d you get in!” I yelped, sitting up. He laughed.
“You’re so cliché, you spare key was in the plant out front.” I rolled my eyes.
“I don’t want to know how you know that Bert.”
“Sorry GeeTard, didn’t mean to scare you. I’m here as your boss though. You didn’t show up for work, I got worried. You usually call.”
“What time is it?”
“Twelve?”
“In the afternoon!” I screeched, climbing out of bed, and pulling on a shirt, and jeans. “Holy shit!”
“Gerard, no wonder your name rhymes with retard, it’s okay, I got Jeph to cover for you man.”
“Sorry, I mean, just finding out everything, the baby, and Frank leaving and—“
“Frank left?” He asked sharply, a fierce look burning through his eyes. “And what baby?” He then asked, confused.
“My baby,” I sighed. He looked blank, “I’m pregnant.” He blinked for a second, and then started laughing hysterically.
“Oh…Gee…And I thought I played a few good ones on y-you!”
“It’s true!” I declared.
“Gerard, guys…they can’t get—“
“I already know this Bert!” I snapped.
“Jeesh, maybe you are pregnant. Come on, get dressed, we’ll go get something to eat.”
“Oh god!” I muttered, before running to the bathroom, and puking in the porcelain bowl once more.
“Dude…okay…how did this happen,” Bert asked gently, after I came out.
“I was born with a womb,” I shrugged. “And Frank and I forgot…you know…and four months later, tah-dah.”
“Just like that?”
“That’s about the sketch of it, yep.”
“And he left?”
“He wanted to put the baby up for adoption,” I sighed. “I can’t do that,” I said, sitting down on the window seat, and looking out at the road. Cars were moving past, some coming home, some going to work, some getting lunch. “I told him to,” I whispered, through tears. “But I’ll miss him!”
“I’m sorry,” Bert said affectionately, patting my back. “It’ll be okay. I’ll help! I know what we can name it for now!”
“And what’s that?” I asked, giggling.
“Well, it needs a name that is a cross between boys and girls. One that both boys and girls have, y’know?”
“Yeah…”
“I say Dillon! For now, anyways.”
“Okay. Dillon it is,” I giggled again, brushing the tears away. I stood up, and grabbed my shoes.
“Come on, now I’m hungry. It probably won’t stay down anyways…” I said, as Bert gave a questioning look.
“TO MCDONALD’S IT IS!” He shouted. My stomach lurched.
“I just lost my appetite again,” I replied….
I took a deep breath, and opened my mouth. “I’mpregnant.” I said quickly. He took in a sharp breath.
“W-what did he say?” I felt the tears cloud my vision.
“That I might not even survive, let alone the baby survive,” I whispered out. He looked up, eyes wide.
“Gee…”
“It’s possible, y’know?” I continued. “I’m like, the second ever man to be pregnant, whoever’s up in the sky works in funny ways to kill a person. I rather wish I’d just been shot.”
“Don’t say that!” Frank snapped, coming over. “You’re not going to die Gerard. You’re going to pull through, and we’ll talk about our options.”
“Options? What options?” I asked angrily.
I think the emotions are kicking in. “There’s no options Frank! I don’t believe in abortion, let alone think I can get one, and adoption? After all that carrying a kid around? If I even survive, or if it survives? I don’t think so!”
“We have to make this decision together!” He argued, his voice rising.
“We?” I asked incredulously. “Just like we’re pregnant, and we’re carrying the kid around, and we have the womb, right?”
“I have a part in this!” He said fiercely.
“You have DNA in this,” I said levelly. “If you don’t want it, then go.”
“I promised I’d stick by you,” He said.
“If it was just to convince me about adoption I don’t want you!” I screeched. “Get out then!” Frank clenched his fists, and his jaw twitched like it does when he’s angry. It shows he wants to throw something, but I beat him to it.
I picked up the glass, and threw it at the wall, as he walked out, not caring whether anything hit him. Adoption? He was motherfucking kidding himself if he thought I was giving my child up for adoption.
I stormed over to the broken glass with the broom and dustpan, and picked everything up, before rinsing the dishes off, and went into the bedroom, stripping down, and covering up. I ran a hand over my stomach, where another life was growing.
This was it. I was responsible for this child. No one else. The life inside me was mine to take care of, mine to raise, mine to teach right from wrong. All the blame weighed down on me in the end.
I often wondered how parents felt when they found out they were having children. Joyous? Maybe. Angry? Maybe. Stupid? In some cases. Nervous as all hell? Definitely. There’s that fear, that second-guessing of your ability to do anything. And it was here, right now.
I brushed away the tears, and closed my eyes, starting to count backwards from 500. It was the only other way I could fall asleep without Frankie. 500, 499, 498, 407….
xXx
“Gerard!” Someone shook me. “Gerard, wake up man!” I groaned, and fluttered my eyes open. Bert was standing there, his mysterious blue eyes looking down.
“Bert! Dude, how’d you get in!” I yelped, sitting up. He laughed.
“You’re so cliché, you spare key was in the plant out front.” I rolled my eyes.
“I don’t want to know how you know that Bert.”
“Sorry GeeTard, didn’t mean to scare you. I’m here as your boss though. You didn’t show up for work, I got worried. You usually call.”
“What time is it?”
“Twelve?”
“In the afternoon!” I screeched, climbing out of bed, and pulling on a shirt, and jeans. “Holy shit!”
“Gerard, no wonder your name rhymes with retard, it’s okay, I got Jeph to cover for you man.”
“Sorry, I mean, just finding out everything, the baby, and Frank leaving and—“
“Frank left?” He asked sharply, a fierce look burning through his eyes. “And what baby?” He then asked, confused.
“My baby,” I sighed. He looked blank, “I’m pregnant.” He blinked for a second, and then started laughing hysterically.
“Oh…Gee…And I thought I played a few good ones on y-you!”
“It’s true!” I declared.
“Gerard, guys…they can’t get—“
“I already know this Bert!” I snapped.
“Jeesh, maybe you are pregnant. Come on, get dressed, we’ll go get something to eat.”
“Oh god!” I muttered, before running to the bathroom, and puking in the porcelain bowl once more.
“Dude…okay…how did this happen,” Bert asked gently, after I came out.
“I was born with a womb,” I shrugged. “And Frank and I forgot…you know…and four months later, tah-dah.”
“Just like that?”
“That’s about the sketch of it, yep.”
“And he left?”
“He wanted to put the baby up for adoption,” I sighed. “I can’t do that,” I said, sitting down on the window seat, and looking out at the road. Cars were moving past, some coming home, some going to work, some getting lunch. “I told him to,” I whispered, through tears. “But I’ll miss him!”
“I’m sorry,” Bert said affectionately, patting my back. “It’ll be okay. I’ll help! I know what we can name it for now!”
“And what’s that?” I asked, giggling.
“Well, it needs a name that is a cross between boys and girls. One that both boys and girls have, y’know?”
“Yeah…”
“I say Dillon! For now, anyways.”
“Okay. Dillon it is,” I giggled again, brushing the tears away. I stood up, and grabbed my shoes.
“Come on, now I’m hungry. It probably won’t stay down anyways…” I said, as Bert gave a questioning look.
“TO MCDONALD’S IT IS!” He shouted. My stomach lurched.
“I just lost my appetite again,” I replied….