Be All Mine

Standing in an aisle in the drug store while on the phone with my mom, I said, “How can there be so many pregnancy tests? You have to pee on all of them anyway, right? Like I care what color the damned things is. Why not make it better; say what kind I am having. Then we'll talk.”

“You always know how to make me laugh,” she giggled, as I took three different brands of tests from the shelf and threw them in the basket. “I thinks that's why we chose you.”

“Of course,” I said, heading towards the candy isle. “choose the dweeb with a huge brain and stupid sense of humor instead of the needy four year old with polio. Makes sense in some parallel universe type of way.”

She laughed. “See? I bet you're looking at the candy now, aren't you?”

“Of course not,” I lied, throwing two bags of Starbursts and Twizzlers into the basket. “I'm not that pregnant yet. Give it two more weeks. How's Chanel?”

“Good,” she replied. Chanel was my sister who recently moved from New York to France in a spur of the moment type thing with her new French husband Jaque. He was nice, but then again, I met him during American football season. So no one really cared what the French man had to say. “She's trying to have a baby, last time I heard.”

“Trying? Last time I checked, French men weren't sterile or anything,” I joked, throwing the load of crap onto the conveyor belt of the check out counter, the older woman giving me an odd look.

“They have been busy and think that they may have to wait a year for it to be good timing for the baby-making,” she answered.

“Mom,” I whined. “Babies are never good with time. It's why we're born babies and not full blown adults.” I payed the fifteen dollars with a twenty, told her to put the five in the cancer donation jar, and waked out of the store. “Even Mikey, who was planned, was technically bad timing. Tell her I said to call me when she gets her head out of her ass.”

“I'll tell her you miss her,” my mom interpreted. “Bye sweetie.”

“Bye ma,” I said, hanging up and jumping into the truck, throwing the bag and my cell phone on the passenger seat. It was true, though, about why they chose me rather than a younger child. They said they liked that I was happy and easy to get along with, rather than stubborn and shy or sad. I met them and told them how I was stuck in traffic; the afternoon baby boom was going on down the hall, and they both looked at one another and began to laugh with me. I would always be grateful for their choice.

As I was pulling onto West Temple Street and heading southeast, my cell phone rang loudly through the car. “God damn it-Hello?” I answered.
“Audrey?”

It was Mark.

“Do you want to come to a party tonight at my house? We're celebrating Dave Schiffman's birthday with the guys from Avenged Sevenfold and the whole warehouse's producers. I figured you'd want to get out as much now before...you know. The baby starts to round out your stomach there. By the way, did you find out?”

“I just bought the little devils,” I replied, pulling onto a side street that would lead me to my neighborhood. “But, um...I guess. I don't see why not. What time should I be there?”

“Well, Avenged will be here at like, five or six, so you could come then if you want to look cool,' he joked.

“Sure,” I said. “I'll buy some chips, or whatever after I take a shower.”

“No,” he said. “Just bring your voice and your drum sticks. We want to hear you play.”

“We?” I asked, pulling into my garage and parking beside my Escalade.

“You know,” he mumbled. “the guys. Tom and Travis. It's been awhile since we've heard you play, and it's always fun to watch.”

“Why?” I asked, a sly grin on my face even though he couldn't see it.

He sighed. “Be cause you're a better musician than we will ever be and because you're the greatest drummer ever.”

I laughed and threw my bag of supplies on the kitchen counter, pulling off my shoes as I said my goodbyes to Mark. “First things first,” I said to myself, sighing as I took the three tests into the bathroom along with a giant gallon of water from my fridge.

After twenty minutes of pee then drink then pee then drink and so on, I paced the master bathroom impatiently, randomly finding something to do, like wash my face, apply make-up, and change into a pair of skin-tight blue jeans and a Slayer hooded sweatshirt. I finally walked over to the bathroom counter and picked up the first test: +. I referred to the box, even though I knew what it meant: pregnant. The second one came up positive, as well, followed by the last one.

I sighed and threw the tests into the garbage can, finally grabbing my purse and the keys to the Escalade in slow, effortless motions. I wasn't disappointed, but I was still afraid. What if I can't handle this by myself? Sometimes I can barely handle Mikey and he pretty much does his own thing when he's not eating or watching a movie with me or something along those lines. A baby wasn't exactly independent the last time I checked.

When I thought about Mikey when he was a baby, though, my heart fluttered and I felt a smile grow across my face. Just thinking about holding that tiny infant, so pure and so helpless, in my arms as I watch his eyes very carefully, I couldn't help but be overjoyed. I loved kids, and always have. I always will. They seem to always brighten up my day whenever I am feeling down or out of it, and I always know that I need to talk to them, not down to them. I always have had their trust and appreciation. Especially the high schoolers at the high school where I was teaching band and music classes. They talked to me like I was their best friend; like how parents and kids should act towards one another.

“Better be a girl,” I said, speeding off to the store to buy some chips and soda for the party. I knew that most of them would be drinking beer, but I hated it; it tasted nasty to me. And I found the whole idea of making a fool out of yourself really irresponsible. But that's just me. I think.

Mark answered the door within a second of my ringing it, and he hurriedly grabbed the cases of Pepsi, Mountain Dew, Grape Soda, and Coca-Cola from my aching arms. “You shouldn't bee carrying all of this weight if you're pregnant,' he scolded me.

I grabbed the bags of chips from the car and ran up to the house, walking inside to the sound of Mikey's giggles and grown men's laughs. “Yeah, well,” I started, throwing the food on the island counter in his spacious kitchen. “I've been carrying Mikey a lot, and I'm still pregnant. So I think I'll be okay.”

I glanced over at Mark as he stumbled over the bar stool and saw his stare. He gulped and finally said, “So...So you are pregnant? You checked?”

I smiled and answered, “Three times a charm. Little pieces of plastic took forever.” I turned towards the stunned Mark and laughed. “So are you going to be okay? Or do you need to take some deep breaths?”

He pulled me into a warm hug and I hugged him back. “You're amazing, Audrey,” he said. “I hope you know that.”

“I know,” I said, struggling to breathe. “Now let me and the baby get some oxygen, please.” He let go quickly and smiled at me with happiness radiating off of his whole body. “You okay with this then? 'Cause if you don't want to, then-”

“No no no,” he said, as Travis entered the room with Mikey on his side.

“Good,” I said. “'Cause I was gonna keep it anyways.”

Travis looked at me and furrowed his eyebrows. “Keep it? Why do I have a feeling this isn't about a car or couch, or something?”

“Because it's not,” Mark replied. “Audrey's pregnant.”

“Holy shit! Really?” he said in bewilderment. “Congratulations!”

Mikey lit up and started squealing. “Mommy's gonna have another me!”

I took a hold of him and kissed his tiny nose. “Or maybe I will have a sister for you play with and teach her how to play music. How about that? Do you want a sister?”

“Yeah!” he shrieked.

Mark took him and raised him into the air, screaming as Mikey did and they ran off into the living room, Travis and I heading in there as I saw Tom and guys from Avenged Sevenfold sitting around the rounded couch, playing Call of Duty 4, drinks on coasters all over the coffee table. I felt myself looking for Matt. I didn't see him and figured he had decided not to come just as I felt a presence from behind me.

“Some excited kid you got there,” Matt said, voice low and rough, a voice that matched his look and attitude. “You give him a can of sugar, or something?”

I laughed and replied, “No. He just found out he's a big brother. I'm apparently pregnant.”

Matt gave me an odd look and then said, “So you and Mark are together still?”

“No,” I giggled, shaking my head back and forth. “We divorced a month ago, but we, uh, conceived like two weeks before we decided to actually split. So, now we're pregnant. So no, it's no love child if you were wondering.”

His smile returned to his face and I couldn't help but stare up at his deep eyes, eyes that seemed to go on forever. I wondered how dull my green eyes must look next to his brown, and then looked down at my feet where Mikey was hiding in between my legs from the growling Travis.

“Uh oh, Kiddo,” Matt said, as he tickled Mikey. “I think you're under attack here. Better make a run for it when you can. I'll help you.” He bent low and I stumbled a bit as Mat touched my shin, my skin erupting into goosebumps at his light touch. “One...Two...run Mikey!”

Mikey screamed and ran over to his dad who picked him and put him on his shoulders. Travis followed him and pretended to be beaten by Mark as we all laughed at the scene.

“He's gonna like you,” I said, sipping Grape soda from a red plastic cup. “You're wearing Harley Davidson and you're playing with him. Two of his favorite things.”

“He likes Bikes?” Matt wondered.

I blushed. “Sort of my fault,” I confessed. “I used to have one when he was three and up to his fourth birthday last month, but I sold it to get a more appropriate mode of transportation for the two of us. I used to take him with me to bike shows and he'd sit on every single bike he could.”

“I never would have seen you as the biker chick,” he admitted. “More of a Viper or Ferrari type.”

“I wish!” I yelped. Mikey ran over to me, tears rolling down his face and I quickly knelt down to meet his eye level. He held his elbow and I asked, “What? What it is honey? Are you hurt? You get a boo-boo?”

Mikey nodded and I threw my arms around him, picking him up and resting him on my hip. I swayed back and forth and Said, “It's okay, baby. You're okay. It's just a tiny little scratch. You want some soda?”

He nodded, eyes puffy and red as I led Matt to the kitchen, Zacky Vengeance following behind closely. I set Mikey on the counter, going to the fridge and pulling out a Coca-Cola as Matt sat on the counter next to him.

As I handed him the soda, Matt pointed to his elbow where a small scratch was blurred into his skin. “I got hurt,too, when I was your age. I cried, too.”

Mikey sniffed and gulped his soda. “How?” he finally asked.

Matt pointed to the floor. “I tripped over myself and fell. How did you fall, kiddo?”

I watched from the corner of my eye as I held a conversation with Zacky about Gibson guitars. Matt and Mikey smiled and Mikey put his head on Matt's thick arm, smiling as Matt talked to him about when he was little. I felt a sort of connection with Matt as he spoke with Mikey, not towards Mikey. He was like me, always having good wholesome conversations with kids no matter what age.

Part of me wanted to just walk over there and hug Matt, but I was never that outgoing and flirtatious. I might mingle here and there, but ever since I was ten I was very self-conscious about the way I was and looked. My real father had abused me, both verbally and physically for years. Every Friday night he came in my room, and for two years I struggled to say anything to my mother, who was not as great of a parent, either. She was an alcoholic and drug addict who wouldn't stop for anyone, especially me, who ruined her social life. I lived with the scars of feeling so unclean and pitiful for my whole life, and even to this day. The only difference was I didn't let the emotions surface; I kept them tied down by remembering other things, like Mark and my little boy, who was now smiling and giggling as Matt tickled him playfully.

I wanted to ask Matt out, but I realized that was idiotic. He no doubt had one of those girlfriends with the stripper look to them, the ones that put out when he wanted and for as much as he wanted them to do. Why would he want to deal with a pregnant mother of one who was divorced of a successful musician? He would laugh in my face and think I was a gold-digger who was looking for a baby's-daddy.

“Audrey?” asked Matt, who was now magically standing right in front of me. Had I been completely spacing out that long?

I looked up at him with serene eyes and smiled.

“Mikey informed me that he likes monsters a lot,” he said, laughing as Mikey tugged on the leg of his pants. “So I remembered that there was a new monster movie out-for kids his age- and I thought it would be fun if I took you guys to see it tomorrow. Is that cool with you?”

Maybe he isn't the typical guy, Audrey, I thought to myself.

“Of course we would,” I laughed, staring at Matt wondrously. “Here's my number.” I wrote it down on a piece of napkin and handed it to him, watching as he put it in his pants pocket with careful ease. “I'll pick him up at the studios tomorrow, so maybe you could meet us there, then we'll walk to the theater down the block. That alright with you?”

Matt nodded and said, “it's a date,” and I felt my body jump with excitement.

It's a date, I repeated in my head, as he pursued Mark and the Rev into the living room.