Sequel: Upwards ›
Frontwards
Breaking.
Thursday, 22nd March, 2006.
Back at the Gyno’s. What a horrible place. The waiting room is painted the colour of puke (a tasteful reminder of the first trimester, perhaps?) and you know that behind every door, some poor woman is getting the uncomfortable rubber glove of shame shoved inside her. Frank dutifully held my hand and chewed on his lip. He looked thoughtful and sexy but I was still raging at him for last night so we sat in silence as we waited.
“Mrs Iero,” I heard, and when I looked up there was Steve, smiling at us from the doorway to Examination Room 5. Oh Steve. What a guy.
We followed him in and he gave me a paper gown and left the room while I changed. Frank turned away. What the fuck. We’ve been married barely two weeks and he already finds me repulsive. Fucking ace. I wanted to cry but I managed not to. We sat in silence until Steve knocked on the door and I told him he could come in.
He had a doctor with him. “Hello, Mr and Mrs Iero,” said the doctor. “I’m Dr Bridges.”
We mumbled our hellos and faked our smiles. Soon enough Dr Bridges was lubing up his rubber glove and I was tilted back in my chair and told to relax. Ha. What a joke that is. Do you know how hard it is to relax when a strange man is poking around in your uterus? Very.
My husband stood by my side and held my hand but it felt like he was only doing it because he felt he had to. I really don’t know what’s gotten into him. It’s like in the past week he’s gone from this loving, affectionate, perfect husband, to some kind of robot and I have no idea why.
So anyway the doctor rummaged around my insides for a bit and he seemed relatively pleased so once that was over with I was allowed to put my clothes back on and then Steve and Dr Bridges returned for an ultrasound.
“Do you want to know the sex of the baby?” Steve asked us.
I tore my eyes from the monitor and looked up at Frank. He just shrugged disinterestedly. I wanted to hit him. He had been so adamant a few weeks ago and now he didn’t seem to give a shit either way.
I turned back to Steve and forced a faint smile. “I think we want to wait,” I said. “Thanks.”
Steve gave me a sympathetic nod. I knew he could sense the tension between me and Frank but he didn’t say anything. I guess he sees a lot of bickering couples. Dr Bridges, however, seemed to be oblivious.
“Well rest assured everything is perfectly normal and you’re in excellent health, Mrs Iero,” he said as I was wiping the goo crap off my stomach. Which was a relief. “Just try to avoid stressful situations and we’ll see you again in eight weeks for your anti-D treatment.”
Avoid stress. Ha. Right.
Frank drove us home in silence. I didn’t speak to him for the rest of the day. Once again we fell asleep separately. We may as well have been in separate beds.
Friday, 23rd March, 2006.
No band meeting today but I didn’t particularly want to be around Frank all day while he was being like this, so I called Alice and we went to the mall. I spend more time at the mall than my house at the minute, and more time with Alice than with Frank. Which speaks volumes about our relationship. Maybe everybody was right. Maybe we rushed into things. Maybe we’re just another crappy 17 day celebrity marriage.
Needless to say, I was feeling pretty glum as we traipsed around the shops. I felt like a whale and not even my husband wanted to touch me. I couldn’t keep it in much longer. When we sat down for lunch, it all came tumbling out.
“I think Frank hates me,” I heard myself say. Alice looked up from her menu in shock. “He’s barely spoken to me in a week. He doesn’t even look at me anymore.” I felt tears well in my eyes but there wasn’t a lot I could do about it.
Alice put her hand on my arm and I lost it. People were turning to stare at the crazy fat girl bawling away on table 72. Alice looked embarrassed but I didn’t give a shit.
“Daisy,” she said softly, “Daisy, it’s ok.”
“It’s not okay,” I wailed. “He doesn’t love me anymore!”
She shushed me a little but I didn’t mind. Or pay attention. “Daisy,” she said again. “Daisy, listen to me.”
I managed to pull myself together somehow. People were still staring. God, you really can’t take me anywhere without me causing a scene at the moment.
“Frank loves you,” Alice said firmly. “He adores you. You know that.”
I used to know that, but I was starting to doubt it. I let her carry on.
“Mikey spoke to me,” she said with a sigh, “and Frank’s been given some bad news.”
I furrowed my brows trying to think what this could be. His mum is ok, I spoke to her the other day and she didn’t mention any family troubles. And the rest of the guys haven’t been treating me any different so it probably wasn’t anything to do with them. Obviously the baby and I are fine. I couldn’t think of what else it could be.
“I can’t tell you what it is,” Alice continued calmly, “but I’m sure Frank will tell you when he’s ready. Okay?”
I gave a heavy sigh and nodded. Alice always managed to calm me down. She always knows exactly what to say to me. I don’t know how she does it.
We ate lunch like normal people (aside from the occasional wary glance from the waiting staff) and discussed fun things to do while we were living together. As we left the bistro, a flamboyant man approached us and told us how ‘brave’ we were for ‘coming out together’. We didn’t really understand what was happening until he congratulated us and wished us ‘all the luck in the world with your baby, girls’.
He thought we were a lesbian couple. We didn’t correct him because that would be rude. We just thanked him and held hands (for authenticity) and went about our day giggling to ourselves.
Sometimes I think things would be much easier if I were a lesbian. Unfortunately, I like men.
Damn it. Kate doesn’t know how lucky she is.
Sunday, 25th March, 2006.
I’ve been trying to be more patient with Frank but in all honesty I’m a little hurt that he doesn’t feel like he can tell me what’s bothering him. I’m his wife. I should be the first person he comes to when he has bad news. We should be going through this together. But whatever this is, I seem to be the last to know.
I spent most of today playing video games with Gerard. Frank was in the room but sort of spaced out on the sofa watching Gerard kick my arse at Burnout. In my defence, I was kind of letting him win because I know how much of a bad loser he is. There’s a dent in the fireplace as evidence. So there was that, and also the fact that I am just a bit shit at racing games. But it was nice all the same. I don’t get to spend much quality time with Gerard because he’s usually holed up in his room writing songs or drawing or doing other mysterious things; it’s hard to know with him and I never want to ask.
Eventually, at around 7pm, Frank went to get us some food and I thought this would be a good time to test the water with Gerard while we were alone.
“He’s acting really weird recently,” I said casually, not taking my focus away from the race. “Really quiet.”
Gerard didn’t speak for a moment, instead channelling his energy into crashing into people. “Oh?”
“Yeah,” I sighed. “I dunno. Every time I ask him what’s up he just shrugs it off.”
Gerard lost attention momentarily and went off course, but he was soon back on track. “Weird.”
“It is weird,” I said. “And with you guys leaving in a couple of days all I want to do is spend some time with him but he doesn’t seem interested. It kind of sucks.”
“That does kind of suck,” he replied. Damn he’s good at this.
“So I guess you don’t know anything about this?”
Gerard shrugged. “Me? No, I don’t know anything.”
“Don’t know anything about what?” I swerved to take him out.
“About Frank being told that he-” Gerard paused the game and turned to gawp at me. “You evil fucking genius.”
Well, I don’t like to brag. “So you do know?”
He sighed and brushed his lustrous hair from his face. “Fine, you got me. Yes, I know. But it’s not my place to tell you.”
“Oh come on, Gee,” I whined. “Do you have any idea how fucking crazy this is making me?”
He nodded sympathetically and placed a hand on my shoulder. “Yeah, I do,” he said softly. “But this is between you and Frank and he just needs to man up and tell you himself. I’m sorry, Daisy, but I can’t.”
I gave a heavy sigh. “I guess you’re right,” I said quietly. “But can you at least talk to him for me?”
Gerard put his arm around me. “Of course I will,” he said soothingly. “Anything for you, fatty.”
Aw, how sweet. I think.
Back at the Gyno’s. What a horrible place. The waiting room is painted the colour of puke (a tasteful reminder of the first trimester, perhaps?) and you know that behind every door, some poor woman is getting the uncomfortable rubber glove of shame shoved inside her. Frank dutifully held my hand and chewed on his lip. He looked thoughtful and sexy but I was still raging at him for last night so we sat in silence as we waited.
“Mrs Iero,” I heard, and when I looked up there was Steve, smiling at us from the doorway to Examination Room 5. Oh Steve. What a guy.
We followed him in and he gave me a paper gown and left the room while I changed. Frank turned away. What the fuck. We’ve been married barely two weeks and he already finds me repulsive. Fucking ace. I wanted to cry but I managed not to. We sat in silence until Steve knocked on the door and I told him he could come in.
He had a doctor with him. “Hello, Mr and Mrs Iero,” said the doctor. “I’m Dr Bridges.”
We mumbled our hellos and faked our smiles. Soon enough Dr Bridges was lubing up his rubber glove and I was tilted back in my chair and told to relax. Ha. What a joke that is. Do you know how hard it is to relax when a strange man is poking around in your uterus? Very.
My husband stood by my side and held my hand but it felt like he was only doing it because he felt he had to. I really don’t know what’s gotten into him. It’s like in the past week he’s gone from this loving, affectionate, perfect husband, to some kind of robot and I have no idea why.
So anyway the doctor rummaged around my insides for a bit and he seemed relatively pleased so once that was over with I was allowed to put my clothes back on and then Steve and Dr Bridges returned for an ultrasound.
“Do you want to know the sex of the baby?” Steve asked us.
I tore my eyes from the monitor and looked up at Frank. He just shrugged disinterestedly. I wanted to hit him. He had been so adamant a few weeks ago and now he didn’t seem to give a shit either way.
I turned back to Steve and forced a faint smile. “I think we want to wait,” I said. “Thanks.”
Steve gave me a sympathetic nod. I knew he could sense the tension between me and Frank but he didn’t say anything. I guess he sees a lot of bickering couples. Dr Bridges, however, seemed to be oblivious.
“Well rest assured everything is perfectly normal and you’re in excellent health, Mrs Iero,” he said as I was wiping the goo crap off my stomach. Which was a relief. “Just try to avoid stressful situations and we’ll see you again in eight weeks for your anti-D treatment.”
Avoid stress. Ha. Right.
Frank drove us home in silence. I didn’t speak to him for the rest of the day. Once again we fell asleep separately. We may as well have been in separate beds.
Friday, 23rd March, 2006.
No band meeting today but I didn’t particularly want to be around Frank all day while he was being like this, so I called Alice and we went to the mall. I spend more time at the mall than my house at the minute, and more time with Alice than with Frank. Which speaks volumes about our relationship. Maybe everybody was right. Maybe we rushed into things. Maybe we’re just another crappy 17 day celebrity marriage.
Needless to say, I was feeling pretty glum as we traipsed around the shops. I felt like a whale and not even my husband wanted to touch me. I couldn’t keep it in much longer. When we sat down for lunch, it all came tumbling out.
“I think Frank hates me,” I heard myself say. Alice looked up from her menu in shock. “He’s barely spoken to me in a week. He doesn’t even look at me anymore.” I felt tears well in my eyes but there wasn’t a lot I could do about it.
Alice put her hand on my arm and I lost it. People were turning to stare at the crazy fat girl bawling away on table 72. Alice looked embarrassed but I didn’t give a shit.
“Daisy,” she said softly, “Daisy, it’s ok.”
“It’s not okay,” I wailed. “He doesn’t love me anymore!”
She shushed me a little but I didn’t mind. Or pay attention. “Daisy,” she said again. “Daisy, listen to me.”
I managed to pull myself together somehow. People were still staring. God, you really can’t take me anywhere without me causing a scene at the moment.
“Frank loves you,” Alice said firmly. “He adores you. You know that.”
I used to know that, but I was starting to doubt it. I let her carry on.
“Mikey spoke to me,” she said with a sigh, “and Frank’s been given some bad news.”
I furrowed my brows trying to think what this could be. His mum is ok, I spoke to her the other day and she didn’t mention any family troubles. And the rest of the guys haven’t been treating me any different so it probably wasn’t anything to do with them. Obviously the baby and I are fine. I couldn’t think of what else it could be.
“I can’t tell you what it is,” Alice continued calmly, “but I’m sure Frank will tell you when he’s ready. Okay?”
I gave a heavy sigh and nodded. Alice always managed to calm me down. She always knows exactly what to say to me. I don’t know how she does it.
We ate lunch like normal people (aside from the occasional wary glance from the waiting staff) and discussed fun things to do while we were living together. As we left the bistro, a flamboyant man approached us and told us how ‘brave’ we were for ‘coming out together’. We didn’t really understand what was happening until he congratulated us and wished us ‘all the luck in the world with your baby, girls’.
He thought we were a lesbian couple. We didn’t correct him because that would be rude. We just thanked him and held hands (for authenticity) and went about our day giggling to ourselves.
Sometimes I think things would be much easier if I were a lesbian. Unfortunately, I like men.
Damn it. Kate doesn’t know how lucky she is.
Sunday, 25th March, 2006.
I’ve been trying to be more patient with Frank but in all honesty I’m a little hurt that he doesn’t feel like he can tell me what’s bothering him. I’m his wife. I should be the first person he comes to when he has bad news. We should be going through this together. But whatever this is, I seem to be the last to know.
I spent most of today playing video games with Gerard. Frank was in the room but sort of spaced out on the sofa watching Gerard kick my arse at Burnout. In my defence, I was kind of letting him win because I know how much of a bad loser he is. There’s a dent in the fireplace as evidence. So there was that, and also the fact that I am just a bit shit at racing games. But it was nice all the same. I don’t get to spend much quality time with Gerard because he’s usually holed up in his room writing songs or drawing or doing other mysterious things; it’s hard to know with him and I never want to ask.
Eventually, at around 7pm, Frank went to get us some food and I thought this would be a good time to test the water with Gerard while we were alone.
“He’s acting really weird recently,” I said casually, not taking my focus away from the race. “Really quiet.”
Gerard didn’t speak for a moment, instead channelling his energy into crashing into people. “Oh?”
“Yeah,” I sighed. “I dunno. Every time I ask him what’s up he just shrugs it off.”
Gerard lost attention momentarily and went off course, but he was soon back on track. “Weird.”
“It is weird,” I said. “And with you guys leaving in a couple of days all I want to do is spend some time with him but he doesn’t seem interested. It kind of sucks.”
“That does kind of suck,” he replied. Damn he’s good at this.
“So I guess you don’t know anything about this?”
Gerard shrugged. “Me? No, I don’t know anything.”
“Don’t know anything about what?” I swerved to take him out.
“About Frank being told that he-” Gerard paused the game and turned to gawp at me. “You evil fucking genius.”
Well, I don’t like to brag. “So you do know?”
He sighed and brushed his lustrous hair from his face. “Fine, you got me. Yes, I know. But it’s not my place to tell you.”
“Oh come on, Gee,” I whined. “Do you have any idea how fucking crazy this is making me?”
He nodded sympathetically and placed a hand on my shoulder. “Yeah, I do,” he said softly. “But this is between you and Frank and he just needs to man up and tell you himself. I’m sorry, Daisy, but I can’t.”
I gave a heavy sigh. “I guess you’re right,” I said quietly. “But can you at least talk to him for me?”
Gerard put his arm around me. “Of course I will,” he said soothingly. “Anything for you, fatty.”
Aw, how sweet. I think.