“What’s this?” She holds the capsule between her fingers and lifts it to the light.
“A pre-natal vitamin. The pharmacist said this is the best brand.”
Her jaw goes slack and her eyes fill up with tears so fast that it makes my eyes bug out. A second later her lower lip starts to wobble and she looks unsteady.
I lean forward. “You okay? You suddenly don’t look so good. You can wait to take the vitamin if you’re worried it will upset your stomach . . .”
She does this weird wave of her hands and then lets out a sob before slinking off her stool and fleeing the room.
I’m stunned. What did I do wrong? Maybe I was too pushy. The website I was reading warned me that her hormones are in flux and she could be prone to wide swings of emotion.
I gingerly walk to the doorway and pause so I can listen carefully for her. I hear crying with the occasional wail. Damn. I must’ve really fucked up.
Gathering up my courage, I step into her room.
“Elle?”
The only reply is a sob and she turns away on the huge bed. In her vulnerable state this bed feels like it could swallow her up.
“I’m sorry I upset you . . . really sorry. I’m just trying to help, and . . .”
She sits up and turns around, staring at me like I’ve lost my mind. With her puffy eyes and crazy hair she looks positively unhinged.
“Sorry!” she yells. “You’re sorry?”
I jam my hands in the back pockets of my jeans and shrug. “Yeah, I’m sorry I upset you. I didn’t mean to.”
She sits up taller on the bed and bends her knees so she can fold them against her chest and then she takes several deep breaths. “I’m not acting like a crazy woman because you upset me, Paul. I’m crying because I just can’t believe you.”
I extend my arms out in frustration. She’s going to make me work for this. “But I haven’t lied about anything.”
Her head falls until her chin is touching her chest. After a few seconds she lifts her head back up and observes me with sad eyes, then holds her hands out toward me. “Come here.”
I step closer and take her hands in mine. She pulls me down until I’m sitting on the edge of the bed and I hike up my knee on the mattress so I can turn toward her.
“Look at me,” she commands.
I do, and I see a fierceness in her eyes. I can sense that everything about Elle has changed. In her expression I see a mama lion, a woman who’s invincible.
“What?” I whisper.
She scoots toward me and her grip tightens over my hands.
“I need you to understand something.”
“Okay.”
“No one. No one, Paul . . . has ever treated me like you have.”
The tears are streaming down her face now and I have to turn away. It’s so much emotion . . . a blazing fireball. It’s more than I can take.
She yanks hard on my arm to get my attention again. “No one has ever been so kind, so supportive . . . Paul you bought me and my baby pre-natal vitamins. I am speechless.”
Well, technically she isn’t speechless since she’s still talking but things seem to be going my way now, so I keep my mouth shut.
She wipes both hands across her face to catch the torrent of tears. This isn’t her most attractive moment, but even in a state of despair, I still think she’s beautiful.
She quiets so I decide to speak. “It was easy for me to do and the vitamins are really important to start early in the first trimester. I’ll send you the link for the study I was reading—”
Fisting the front of my shirt, she yanks me toward her. “Are you paying attention to what I’m saying?”
“I’m trying—I swear.”
“It’s your kindness Paul. You’re amazing, and I will adore you forever for what you’ve done for me. You’ve given me more than hope tonight. You’ve made me believe I can do this and be all right.”
Okay, this is good. This seems to be going better now. I decide to run with it.
“You’re the amazing one, Elle. I know you will be more than okay.”
She crumbles back onto the bed and starts sobbing again. Holy hormones! I’m starting to see that this is not a job for the weak-willed man. I need to be strong.
I flop down on my back next to her and despite her protests, I tuck her into the crook of my arm. She cries and cries while I make cooing sounds to try to calm her. I’m sure all this upset isn’t good for the baby.
“You really think I can do this?” she asks.
“Absolutely. I hope you don’t mind me asking . . . but can I be Uncle Paul? I may spoil the little tyke a bit.”
She sobs again. Geez
“You would be Uncle Paul?” she asks in between tears.
“Yeah, I’d love that. And I can take care of the baby when you need help. Hell, if we get my parents on board they’ll want to babysit. My mom is absolutely wild about babies and small kids.”
“I really like your parents,” she says in a soft, sleepy voice.
I skim my fingers lightly over her back, back and forth, as I feel her settle into me. “Yeah, they may make me nutty at times but they’re really good people.”
A minute later I realize her breathing is deeper and she’s fallen asleep. We lie together like that for a long time. I like her in my arms and I like being with her on her bed. It might be wrong to feel this way under these circumstances, but I can’t help it.
I replay in my head all the emotions she shared with me tonight, from despair to hope and back again. I didn’t think she had it in her to be so emotional, but despite that she seems to be holding on. I try to picture her as a young girl being left at that kid’s center without her mom or friends and it gets me in the gut. Maybe her mom just couldn’t see a better way, but I have to think there could’ve been one.
Despite all that Elle rose above her circumstances and made something of herself. Now I’m more impressed with her than ever.
It’s just past midnight when my eyes open with a start and I realize I’ve dozed off. Elle’s curled even closer to me now, and I have to gently scoot away as not to wake her. I wander into the kitchen and find a pad on the desk so I can leave her a note.
Back in the bedroom, I carefully remove her shoes, open the folded blanket at the foot of the bed, and drape it over her. I prop up my note on the bedside table so she’ll see it as soon as she wakes.
It’s lunch time when my phone prompts and I look at the screen to see it’s her.
“Hey Elle, how are you feeling?”
“Nauseous but otherwise okay.”
“I put that fruit and yogurt in the fridge last night. Can you try to eat that?”
“I’ll try. How are you doing?”
“Fine, doing the work thing . . . figuring out tree installations. Are you working today?”
“I slept straight through my first call of the day so I decided to cancel my meetings and take the day off. I’ve made an appointment with my OB/Gyn.”
“Good, I’m glad you’re going. Do you need a ride?”
“No I think I can swing it. But thanks for the offer.”
“Any time.”
“I was thinking I’d like to cook you dinner. Are you free Friday night?”
“Sure, what’s the occasion?”
“To thank you.”
I rub my chin as I try to figure out what this is about. “For what?”
She lets out a happy sigh. “For everything.”
“That’s kind of vague.”
“Okay, how about for being a good man.”
“It’s a little wide-sweeping, but I’ll take it.”
“I promise on Friday to be more specific.”
I grin into my phone. “Excellent. So call me later, okay?”
“I will.”
I feel good all day. Really good, like my life is in order and I’m grounded to something bigger now. But how can the chaos of Elle’s accidental pregnancy and my compulsion to be her port in a storm, make me feel so settled? It’s freaking weird.