It's Easier Than It Seems

Salvage

I’m pretty sure that when Billie told his mother that things between him and I were ‘complicated’, he didn’t expect a ripple effect to follow. A few days went by where I believed I had screwed things up so much that I was going to raise the child alone, and whilst Billie suspected I was being a little quiet, I shrugged him off and told him I just felt sick.

The situation between mother and son hadn’t improved either; they were still going back and forth at each other when his family all came together for Marci’s daughter’s sweet sixteen. It was even worse when his family asked me so many questions about the pregnancy, adding wood to the fire Ollie quipped how things were complicated, and everyone gave me ‘that look’.

That dragged me down even more; after everything we had been through… why was it so complicated? Perhaps I had watched far too many chick flicks to see that in reality it’s not as easy as it looks. He couldn’t seem to work out why one word had practically turned everyone against him, like he was completely oblivious to the fact he was breaking my heart.

By the time Monday had rolled around I had started to avoid any form of conversation with Billie Joe. It felt cruel to both sides but I just couldn’t bring myself to talk to him without mentioning why we couldn’t just be together. I knew I had to give him time, but I was impatient, and I had waited far too long.

“Jen, did you do the laundry?” Billie asked me as I opened a letter addressed to myself. He suddenly appeared behind me, rudely glancing over my shoulder to see what the letter read.

I held it close to myself and slowly looked to him. “Do you mind?” I asked, causing him to back off as if I had a letter from the CIA in my hands. “And yes, I did,” I continued on, peeling the letter from my chest.

Billie seemed quite desensitized over my sour attitude, almost like he had gotten used to it the past few days, but instead of trying to fix it, he carried on like nothing was happening. I think that was the most annoying part of the whole situation; his ignorance. Perhaps he put it down to my hormonal mood swings, like I was actually acting like a normal pregnant woman.

“Well, have you seen my black and white striped shirt?” He carried on, checking inside the washing machine, before walking out the patio doors and checking the washing line. I watched him walk around like a little lost child, wondering why he didn’t just let me answer since I knew full well where it was.

He was adorable, like insanely cute. Here was a grown man, rushing around, frantic and panicking because he couldn’t find a shirt he liked. Typically, he had probably looked everywhere bar the one place it was, but instead of helping him out I decided to play stubborn and continue sitting in silence.

I looked to the now crinkled letter in my hands and skimmed over the words. ‘Your appointmentAugust 22nd14 week scanCalifornia Pacific Medical Center.’

I looked slowly up towards the calendar, and then wondered how long I had left the letter sat on the side. My scan was tomorrow. I had been so wrapped up in being annoyed by Billie that I had completely forgotten I was due my first official scan.

If it wasn’t enough that I was being suffocated by Billie’s friends and family, I’d now have doctors and nurses swaddling me to death, prodding and poking at my stomach to see if everything is alright.

I sighed heavily into the piece of paper and let out a tired groan. I’m a terrible mother. Of course I care, of course I want to see if my little dinosaur is alright, but I couldn’t stand the attention from everyone else, and the situation I was in was less than ideal.

I just wish everyone would leave me alone.

“Found it!” I heard Billie call out from upstairs in a rather happy tone. I heard thumping from the stairs as he rushed down to thrust the shirt in my face, almost like he had found the Holy Grail. There was something so innocent yet so annoying about his victory face that made me both want to slap his face and hug into him at the same time.

“Congratulations, you found it,” I replied, in a rather stolid manner, causing the three year old in front of me to frown and sit down with a solid thump.

“What’s up with you?” He asked, still pouting, and finally realising something was wrong.

I handed him the letter to read and hopped off the stool so I could grab a glass of cold orange juice from the fridge. “It’s tomorrow.”

“Already?” He asked me.

“Yup,” I said, turning around whilst sipping my orange juice. “Can you drive me there?”

Billie gave me a rather perplexed look, almost like I had asked him if a bear shits in the woods. “Of course I can drive you there, I’ll fucking be there.”

I forced a smile out, it’s all I could do. It rather felt like Billie was a brick wall, and I had been smashing my head off it to break it. But now my head hurts and I’d rather not bother tearing it down anymore. I still wanted to see what was inside, but I lacked the motivation to carry on, and it hurt too much to do so.

In other words, I loved him. But the fact he couldn’t even think about committing in the situation I’m in… both terrifies and annoys me. It wasn’t just my fault after all, and it took two months to realise that.

**

At the end of the road, turn left.

It was a half hour journey to the hospital, and whilst I was thankful it was only a quick journey, the heat was almost unbearable. Coupled with the fact that Billie was unintentionally pushing me away and to breaking point; I wanted to open the car door and roll out underneath it.

“It’s like one straight line all the way there,” Billie pointed out, glancing towards the Sat Nav. I had offered to drive countless times but he insisted, with almost a hint of misogyny as if he didn’t trust women to drive, yet I knew the way to the hospital, and he had to rely on a GPS system. Pah.

And whilst I could have gone over and over in my head countless times as to why Billie just wouldn’t let me control my own life, and why I couldn’t be a part of his, my mouth opened before my brain could slam any thoughts down, almost as if it was saying ‘fuck it, what do you have to lose?

“Billie, I love you.”

There. I said it. Those three little cursed words.

What did they mean exactly? They just replaced a feeling that I couldn’t quite explain, but had haunted me for a long time. It wasn’t the hormones or the baby talking, it was me, and I’d be damned if I was going to let things be ‘complicated’.

When everything fell silent, I took it upon myself to further the conversation. “I’m sorry, but what the fuck? Complicated? Are you kidding me?! After everything that’s happened, and the fact I’m carrying your kid, you just want to be single? Why? So you can screw other women until the baby’s born because all of a sudden you’re locked down forever?!”

It was like I was releasing every single pent up emotion I had in my body, like the whole wall I had up for the past week had crumbled away, and all that was left was a rambling hormonal pregnant lady.

“Well, you won’t be locked down… I’m not asking you to marry me, Billie, I just want us to be together—and not because I’m pregnant, but because I fucking love you, and come on, I know you have feelings for me, too, so why wouldn’t you just give us another chance?!”

Billie waited a few moments before he let out a deep sigh, like he had been holding his breath for the entirety of my rant. He pulled up on the side of the road and stared at me dumbfounded, I could tell he hadn’t seen that coming, not by a long shot.

“Are you finished?” He asked quietly, not in a rude way, but in a way that made him sound almost terrified of me snapping back at him. I nodded slowly and he bit his lip shyly and looked away. “Gee, wow.”

A few more moments of silence passed and it made it unbearable and slightly awkward. I didn’t know whether to apologise to him, or be mad he wasn’t just kissing me passionately.

“I just want to take things slow,” He finally let out, fear in every word. “And yes, I have feelings for you, but everything’s jumbled up inside my head right now, and I know I’m getting better but I still don’t feel myself, and I don’t want to complicate things,” He replied honestly, glancing over towards me. “I’m not going to screw other women, Jen, you’re the one I want… just…” He let out a sigh and looked out of his window. “I don’t know, I feel fucking terrified to commit, and now I have a baby I can’t exactly escape anything, and I know you said a baby doesn’t mean anything like that but it kind of does.”

“You feel trapped…” I quietly replied. Glancing down to my hands I noticed that they were shaking; I felt almost sick to the stomach, realising what was happening. I hated these grown up situations; you couldn’t just pretend everything was going to be alright, because most of the time, it just sucked.

“If I had told you from the beginning, would you have wanted an abortion?” I trembled as I spoke, nausea growing stronger with each word. I couldn’t believe I was actually saying this.

“What does tha-“

“Answer the question,” I snapped, cutting him off from finishing his question.

“…yes.”

At least he was honest.

I felt my hand slide slowly over to my stomach, gripping into my dress. My eyes flooded with tears as my other hand greeted my mouth to muffle a cry. That was worse than hearing that he didn’t want to commit. He didn’t want it, he didn’t want us, what the fuck did he want?

To be alone?

“Jen, please don’t…,” He leant over in his seat, his belt making everything awkward as he struggled to wrap his arms around me, but I just pushed him away and ejected my own seat belt.

It was then I think the shock of my responsibility set in. Gone were the days where I could bounce on beds and get drunk, with no care in the world, gone were the days where I could be so careless just because.

“I just…,” He sighed heavily, ejecting his own seatbelt and leaning over towards me. “It was just a huge shock, I was like… I already have two kids who are my world, I can’t do that all over again.”

I looked over at him, was this supposed to be an inspirational speech?.

I mean I understood where he was coming from, it was what I had feared all along whilst I was in New York. The man was touching forty, his kids were old, and he was done with that chapter in his life. I mean something like a new baby is huge; it changes everything. It was a pretty fucking big deal.

But it wasn’t the babies fault.

“Billie, I’m scared,” I said, muffled into my hands. “I don’t want to be a mother just yet—I don’t think I can be a mother.”

“Yes you can,” He said, stroking my hair softly. “And you’ll making a fucking good mom, okay?”

I looked up to him with weary eyes. “I can’t take care of myself, let alone someone else,” I added.

I mean I was really scared, how could I look after someone so small and delicate, if after all this time I couldn’t even take care of me. What if I hurt it? What if I raised it wrong? What if it hated me? What if I ended up like my father?

“Trust me, you’ll be fine, every mom to be is nervous, and this situation isn’t ideal—neither of us wanted it… but we’re going to make it work, okay?”

I looked away, I don’t think he understood. If he could hear some of my thoughts, they’d probably terrify him; nervous would be an understatement. “Sometimes I just… it’s horrid to say… but I sometimes wish it away, how could a mother wish their own child away?”

Billie continued to stroke my hair, as if it would help conquer all of my fears and nightmares. “Because it’s change, and change is terrifying, every mom has those thoughts, especially one that wasn’t planning their kid,” He said, glancing down at me. “I mean you’re still kinda young, and you’re worried about your career, and I’m not helping by not being steady,” He continued. “Plus we haven’t known each other that long, we just need to figure things out, and I think the pressure of a deadline isn’t helping.”

I narrowed my brow at Billie, was this another brilliant pep talk?

“But you know, it’s our kid, and we’ll love it and spoil it rotten… it won’t ever go a day without love, food, money, and hopefully happiness.”

As Billie continued on I started day dreaming of future possibilities. Maybe Billie was right, we didn’t really know each other, but perhaps in the next few months we would grow together. I mean becoming a parent is a big deal, but becoming a family is a huge one.

“And look; I’m sorry for what I said about the abortion, like I said; it was pure shock,” He apologised before I threw my hand up.

“Don’t be, I thought the same thing,” I said with a guilty heart.

Billie smiled and rubbed my arm slowly. “Shall we get going before we miss the appointment?”

**

Eventually we made it to the hospital where I’d be getting my ultrasound from a ‘Dr. Khan’, who was a 6ft dark haired man, with a soft spoken voice, hailing all the way from England. It was actually strange to hear a London accent in America.

“So, what part of the U.K are you from?” He asked me, as he applied some of the cool gel over my bump. “I would guess but you have a bit of an American twang.”

“Staffordshire, in the West Midlands,” I replied, smiling, almost as if I was slightly proud to be from there. “You?”

“Born and raised in central London actually, moved over here ten years ago,” He replied, glancing over to the monitor. “But I did work in Birmingham for a few months, small world hm?”

I smiled, as I stared at the little screen, waiting to see my little jelly bean that seemed to be causing so much trouble… even before it was born. I had seen so many people pregnant, and it looked like they were having the best time of their lives, like it was this magical moment where nothing could phase them.

So why wasn’t I having such a good time? Why were things so unnecessary complicated?

“Here you go,” He pointed out a little blob on the screen that somewhat resembled a tiny human. I felt Billie grab my hand but I was unable to tear my eyes away from the monitor. “It looks like you are about 15 weeks, judging by the size, so a little further along than they had thought at your last scan.”

My eyes widened, 15? That was a little over 3 months, which is what we suspected, but it made the reality of it more pressuring. That meant in half a year I’d be a mother.

All of a sudden I croaked and burst into a fit of tears, feeling overwhelmed with happiness and fear at the same time, but Billie squeezed my hand tight and stroked my hair reassuringly.

“Oh my God, I have the cutest little dinosaur inside of me,” I cried, staring at the screen. “How could I have ever doubted that?!”

Dr. Khan laughed softly, taking away the prodding stick and cleaning me up. I stared at the blank screen; wishing I had more time to stare at the thing I had created.

“I’ll get a printout done for you, and a CD so you can print it out for friends and family.”

I nodded eagerly, wanting to see the photograph as soon as I could. “Thank you,” I smiled and then looked to Billie.

He met my expression with his own big grin, kissing me on the forehead sweetly. “You okay?” He asked me.

“I’m fine… we’re fine,” I replied, grinning from ear to ear. “Everything is going to be okay.”
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Sorry this has taken so long to write up, I had huge writer's block, and then I had very little time to do anything creative as my life has been one big whirlwind. I really really want to finish this story, and I need to keep up my motivation, but I also want to write some original fiction, too. I apologise if any of my chapters take over a month to update again. Thanks for your continued support. x