This Is Torturous

When I got downstairs, Gram was sitting at the table with a cup of coffee, on her Macbook. There was an empty cereal bowl next to it with a spoon peaking out, so I assumed she fixed herself breakfast while I was showering. Her eyes lifted when she heard me enter, “Feel better?” She asked with a polite smile.

“I'm actually feeling a bit nauseous. Do you have anything I can take?”

Rising from her chair, she moved across the kitchen to a cabinet next to the stove. After moving some things around, she pulled out a pink box, “I have Pepto Bismol.”

Grimacing, I slid across the hardwood to stand next to her, “I guess this will do.” Gently, I took the box from her hand and got a glass out of the cupboard to get water to wash the chalk-like taste out of my mouth.

“I thought we could do some shopping today.” Gram said just as she went to sit back down in front of the computer. No doubt she was playing games on Facebook.

“What kind of shopping?” I asked then popped the pink circle tablet in my mouth.

“Vintage and vinyl. My two favorite Vs.” I smiled then took a huge gulp of water, “It's still a bit rainy, but that won't stop us. I'm going to take you to Third Man while we're out.”

My eyes widened as I began to choke. I hadn't even thought about that when I was planning on going out to Nashville. I'd wanted to go to Jack White's Third Man Records as soon as it opened. It was a bucket list item and I wasn't about to pass up the chance to cross it off.

Gram laughed at my reaction, “I guess that's definitely something we're going to do before the day is over.”

I nodded eagerly, “Yes, please.”

“Okay, let me go get ready and we'll head out. Give me an hour.” I nodded and she was up and out of the room.

I stood there for a few minutes, trying and failing to wash the disgusting taste out of my mouth. It took two glasses of water before I was satisfied with the result.

Upstairs, I heard the shower turn on. Setting my glass in the sink, I caught sight of Gram's computer out of the corner of my eye. Next thing I knew, I was sitting in front of it, logging onto Twitter. At least I wouldn't be tempted to read @replies since there wasn't a notification telling me how many mentions I had.

As soon as I got to the timeline, I typed a tweet, “My grandma is taking me to Third Man Records today. #ihavethebestgrandmaever”

Once I clicked “tweet”, I scrolled through the timeline, reading everything I'd missed since I got on the plane and turned my “airplane” mode on. I read through the guys of The Maine's, seeing as they were already awake in the UK. A lot of their tweets were links to their Instagram pictures, which I couldn't help but look at.

I noticed John looking less than stellar in the ones he happened to be in. I more than likely did that to him. This added on to the guilt I was already feeling.

With a quiet sigh, I rested my forehead in my palm, scrolling on. A tweet from The Maine's official account had a link to a new update video. Needing to torture myself even more, I clicked and waited for the video to load, heart racing in anticipation at what I was going to see.

The first clip was John talking to the camera, looking happier than ever. By the end of the video, I was feeling more and more guilty and shitty. The last clip was John taking a shot of Absolut vodka by himself. I grimaced at the sad look on his face and the fact that he didn't even seem to flinch from the alcohol.

As soon as the video ended and the related videos popped up, I closed out of it and went back to Twitter, scrolling to the top. There was a “one new tweet” notification, so I clicked it, interested to see who was awake so early.

It was from Halvo, “@SparrowAlaska you're in Nashville?! I'm here recording with Rocket. How long are you here?”

What were the odds? “@EricHalvorsen no shit? I fly home Monday night.”

“@SparrowAlaska We all want to see you. We should do dinner tomorrow.”

Or course they'd want to do dinner. And no doubt Eric would tell John he saw me. I did want to see Nick, Justin, and Andrew. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

“@EricHalvorsen as long as I get to bring my grandma”

“@SparrowAlaska Deal. I'll text you later about it.”

I didn't bother to respond. Quitting the program, I shut the laptop and got up. The shower wasn't running anymore, so I meandered upstairs to see how close to being ready my grandmother was.

“Gram?” I called as I approached her room.

“Yes?” She called back.

“You about ready?”

I heard her laugh, “I don't think it's been an hour, yet, Bird.” She walked out of her walk-in-closet, dressed in a pair of black pants and a knit sweater.

“I'm just restless.” She shot me a sad smile, already knowing I just wanted to go something to get my mind off of my life.

“Why don't you have a look in my closet? There's tons of stuff in there I don't want anymore that you might like, stuff from years ago.” Her suggestion sparked my interest, so while she headed for the bathroom to curl her hair, I moved into the closet to see if I could find anything.

My grandmother's closet was almost as big as my dinky apartment. And the whole thing was full, I couldn't believe it. She definitely didn't get rid of anything.

I went to the shoes first, always being a sucker for a good pair of heels. There were a few that I liked, but I really fell in love with a pair of Chanel beige patent leather flats. They looked like they were in mint condition for being so old. Gram must not've worn them often.

I found a few black dresses I wanted to try on later and two tops. I felt overwhelmed by all of the vintage designers I was surrounded by.

“Find anything you like?” Gram asked as she walked into the brightly lit room.

“A few things.” I said over my shoulder then looked at the tag of a silver raincoat to see who made it.

“I bought that Lanvin raincoat in the 60s. Your grandpa had taken me to Paris on a whim one Christmas and I wasn't expecting the weather seeing as I was young and naïve.” She chuckled, holding it out for me to put on, “I was still modeling, so I had a pretty penny in my pocket. I bought this coat on a whim, much like the whole five days we were there were.”

I had slid my arms into the sleeves and curled the fabric close to my body with my hands. The thing fit like a glove. I couldn't believe it.

“I love fashion.” She sighed dreamily and I laughed, “You should take this; it looks good on you.”

My eyes widened, “What? No! There's a good memory with this and I don't even want to hear how expensive it was. Plus, I live in Arizona.”

She shook her head, “Bird, it's just collecting dust in here. Take it and give it a good home.” She smiled softly at me then turned to go to her jewelry armoire vanity. The thing was littered with jewelry. There were drawers that held more and a middle compartment that held long necklaces.

I slid out of the coat and placed it back on the hanger, “Here, come go through this.” She said, opening the bottom drawer on the right side. I walked over and crouched down, sifting through the gold and silver.

Gram was screwing the backs of a pair of vintage Chanel pearl earrings, watching me. I pulled out a long gold necklace with green and purple stones, “This is pretty.” I admired, holding it up to get a better look.

“Ah, YSL. Take it.”

Again, my eyes widened, “Gram!”

She waved me off, “Birdie, just take these things I'm telling you to.” I gave her a look before giving in and sliding my head through it, “You know, you're getting first pick at all of this stuff right now. When I kick the bucket, you're going to have to fight off your sisters and cousins for this shit.”

She left me to go to a cabinet in the corner. As she went through it, I found a YSL cuff that had a fingerprint stamp I liked. “Another thing I want you to have,” I looked up at my grandmother as she walked back over to me, holding a black dust protector with what I presumed was a handbag inside. I instantly recognized the iconic double “C” logo, “is this.” Her thin, wrinkled fingers pried open the top and pulled out a black, quilted shoulder bag with a small Chanel logo on the bottom in the middle.

“This was the first Chanel bag I ever bought. I got it with my first big paycheck. I always wanted one and I didn't hesitate to buy it.” I gently took the leather bag from her grasp and marveled at its beauty.

If there was one thing I'd wanted ever since I was a preteen, reading fashion magazines, it was a Chanel bag, “Thank you, Gram.” I sincerely said before wrapping my arms around her.

“You're welcome, Birdie. I know you're not doing that great right now and how else to cure that than free retail therapy?”

I chuckled, “I think you're right. I feel better already.” If only that were true.

The Pepto Bismol was doing a shitty job of subsiding my nausea. As I walked through a vintage boutique with my grandma, I felt like I could throw up at any given second. The smell of old furniture was getting to me and I had to step outside to get fresh air.

We had already been to Third Man and a few other record stores. Now we were hitting all of Gram's favorite vintage stores. It was about 2:45 and the sky had cleared up enough that it wasn't drizzling anymore. It was still cold and watching the clouds of my breath exhale from my mouth only tricked my mind into thinking it was colder.

My only focus was on my shallow breathing, hoping not to get too nauseous. I was so focused on my breathing, that I almost didn't hear my phone ringing from my purse in my lap.

Crashing back to Earth as the sound registered in my ears, I scrambled to get it out of my bag, recognizing the tone as John's personalized one. He was only supposed to call if he was hurt or something bad had happened.

My heart was racing as I answered, “Hello? John?”

“Sparrow,”

“Are you okay?” I quickly asked.

“I'm fine. I know I'm only supposed to call if it's an emergency, but I couldn't take it any longer. I'm going crazy, Ladybird.”

Closing my eyes, I willed the tears away at his broken voice, “John...” I said barely above a whisper.

“I keep thinking about what could have you so torn up at home and it's driving me completely insane. I want to help you so badly, but you won't let me.”

It was then I could hear a touch of a slur and couldn't help the sadness that washed over me, “John, there's nothing you can do.” What a lie. There was a lot he could do. Wasn't I just wanting him to help me? I wouldn't subject him to all of my horrible thoughts circling around my head, “This is all me and something I need to come to terms with on my own.”

He sucked in a breath as I wiped a few stray tears away, “Are you sick?”

Mentally, yes, “No, I'm fine.”

“Are you pregnant?”

The question hit me like a freight train. I hadn't even thought about the possibility. The thought completely freaked me out and made me want to vomit, “W-what?” I asked, shocked, “No, I'm not.” My fingers pressed into my forehead as my mind whirled. When was the last time I had my period? Why couldn't I remember? Was this why I was so nauseous? And my mood swings? Was I pregnant? “At least I don't think I am.” I said before I could stop myself.

“What do you mean you don't think you are.” John asked, raising his voice a tiny bit.

“I mean, now that you brought it up, I can't remember the last time I got my period. Not this month. I'm not sure about last month.” I bent over and placed my head between my knees, a wave of nausea hitting me, “Oh, God.” I groaned.

“Sparrow, calm down.”

I couldn't. All I could think about was the fact that I was a horrible, horrible human. Here I was freaking out about getting married too young and now I could possibly be having a child. This was all too much. I couldn't deal with it. My life was ending.

Having kids so early would ultimately ruin the rest of my career plans. I wanted to go to school! I wanted to travel! I couldn't handle the responsibility of another human life. That plus the human life that would be my soon-to-be husband had me panicking like never before.

“Sparrow! You need to breathe.” Not until the words hit my ear, did it register that I was gasping for breath. I wasn't getting any oxygen what-so-ever.

Sitting up, I tried to take a deep breath, but I couldn't. All I got were rough, jagged breaths.

“Fuck, I don't know what to do! I'm so far away!” He exclaimed, “God damnit, why am I in Europe when this is happening?”

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to focus on my breathing. All I could hear was John's panic stricken voice and all I could see was a baby with his green eyes and my dark hair. I wasn't ready to be a wife. I wasn't ready to be a mother.

My chest pounded. Tears welled up in my eyes. My head was spinning.

“Sparrow, Baby, you need to breathe. Please breathe.” He sounded like he was near tears. This only set me off further, “Breathe.” How long had I been like this? My vision started getting spotty. This was it.

As I slipped out of consciousness, I heard John continuing to tell me to breathe.

I woke up to my grandmother above me with my phone attached to her ear. I was lying on the bench I had been sitting on, cheek pressed to the cool aluminum.

“Oh, she's awake. I told you there was nothing to worry about. As soon as she passed out, her brain told her body to breathe.” My mind was still so foggy and my head was pounding. “Give her a few minutes to figure out what's going on. She might have another one just because she's afraid to.” I closed my eyes, letting the coolness of the bench be the only thing I focused on. Deep breathing, Sparrow. You'll be fine. My hand pressed into the bench and Iifted me up into a sitting position.

“She's sitting up now.”

Extending my hand, I silently told her I was ready to talk to him. No doubt he was about to have a panic attack himself.

Without a word, she handed me the phone and walked down the street far enough to give me privacy, but close enough that she could watch and look out for me.

“John,” I croaked out.

“Oh, my god. You're okay. Don't do that to me again, Sparrow.”

“I'm sorry.” I apologized, “Listen, I'll find out if I actually am... pregnant,” I shuddered at the word, “and let you know.”

“Sparrow,” He sadly said. I knew he wanted to talk more about why I had the panic attack, but I couldn't talk about it.

“Until then, I'll see you when you get home.”

He sighed, “Two weeks and we'll be together again.”

Breathe, Sparrow.

“Yup, I'll see you then.”
[center-----
“So,” Gram drawled out as we walked back to her car. I shot her a look, telling her not to question it. She scoffed, “I have a right to know what the hell happened to you back there.”

I didn't respond. Instead, I slid into the 1939 Ford Deluxe Coupe. We sat there in silence, her presumingly waiting for the explanation I wouldn't give her. With a sigh, she realized this, sticking the keys in the ignition. The old car roared to life.

“Do you think we can stop by Target before we head home?” I asked as she pulled out onto the road, “I need to get a pregnancy test.”