Pieces of Paisley (19 page)
Chapter 17
Paisley
Love knows not distance; it hath no continent; its eyes are for the stars.
Watching him walk away this time seemed much harder than last time. Not because of the time frame, but because of the obvious lie between us. It is more emotional because I don’t know where we stand now. I wanted to ask him about it all morning, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask the question. I don’t know how to ask him, and I don’t know that I want the answers.
I woke up in the wee hours of the morning and couldn’t go back to sleep. My anxiety level was through the roof knowing the day was already here, and my emotions were bottled up inside of me. I slipped out of bed and got the hotel pad and pen and poured my heart and soul into a letter for Jake. I was hoping he would find it and be surprised, but it would be something he could read until our letters started arriving. I went to slip it in his sea bag, and to my surprise I found a picture of a little girl who could have been his little sister in looks. I pulled it out to study it, and when I flipped it over it said ‘Laura - seventeen months.’ I knew I had heard that name and racked my brain. Then I remembered the conversation he had with his mom before she arrived warning her not to mention Laura. I did what any girl would do . . . I snooped. There I found more pictures and a few notes where I pieced together the truth . . . or my version of the truth.
Laura was Jake and Lisa’s daughter. Why hide her from me? Is he a part of her life or did he do what my dad did and just walk away? Does he not want me to know because I won’t be a permanent fixture in his life, and he doesn’t want his daughter to meet me? I am confused, hurt and pissed at the same time. I want to wake him up and demand answers, but I am too scared. He is leaving for six months, and I want to trust he has his reasons for not telling me, but no explanation is adding up.
I put the picture back in his bag and put the letter in my purse. I will give him no inclination I know something is amiss and wait for him to tell me. I am giving him a time frame in my mind, but I haven’t decided what I will do if he doesn’t meet it. I cannot imagine my life without him, but I can’t imagine living with lies. Or an absentee dad. People don’t understand what that can do to your perspective of things. I try to fight those fears, but I have to admit I am always waiting for the day he walks out of my life.
I wipe the tears from my cheeks and watch him walk away. When he turns and looks back at me, I try to mask the fear I am feeling, I want him to be okay and not worry about me. He hesitates for a second and seems to be studying me. I blow him a kiss but he has already turned back around to make his way to the ship. His mom, Rose, leans over and hugs me, murmuring how much he loves me and how it will be okay. She gives me a kiss and hug and promises to call and wants the same promise from me. I blindly agree, not knowing what will happen. Kara and I wait there, silently, until we can’t see the ship anymore. All in all it takes hours and neither of us is aware of time. We are both in our own kind of hell.
She follows me back to my house where we do our ritual of junk food, movies, and crying. Finally she asks, “What is wrong with you, Paisley? I see something different in you today that I haven’t seen in a while.” I debate telling her, but then I think what the hell. I don’t have to tell her about all of our issues a few weeks ago; she was there and had a front row seat. I tell her about the letter and photo and what I believe they mean,
“You can’t ask him while he is out there, Pais. That isn’t fair to him.”
“What about being fair to me? Don’t I deserve some honesty and answers?”
“You do. But you have to wait for them. Jake is a good guy, you know that. Don’t jump to conclusions and don’t ruin what you have on speculation. You are so lucky to have a guy that loves you like that, one who respects you and would do anything for your happiness.” I know she is sad about her life with Rick, but she feels she has no other options. I am hoping in the six months they are gone, my mom can work some magic on her. I know she is pregnant with his child, but that is no reason to live in hell. I don’t agree with her advice, but don’t see another way around it. I need him to look me in the eye when he is explaining things and I need to be able to trust in his words.
The weeks are dragging by. I work, go to school, send care packages, and drive to Tampa to spend time with Kara when she isn’t at my house. Her weekends have become weeks at my house and while I work, she either comes with me or spends the day with my mom. They have become super close, and I see her getting stronger every day. Her baby bump is barely showing and we do every trick known to man to determine the sex. We tie her wedding rings to a string and hold it over her stomach, I make her pee in a cup and mix it with Drano, and I even try and read her palm. Every wives’ tale says it is a girl, but we will see. She has decided I am the godmother, much to Rick’s disagreement, but she isn’t giving in. I am beyond honored and can’t wait to see my godchild and be there for her every step of her life.
June has quickly come and almost gone. The family I am babysitting for has decided they don’t like to clean, and with the hellions I am watching I don’t blame them. They are absolute terrors. The parents asked me if I would be willing to add cleaning and laundry to my job description for another three hundred dollars a week and I didn’t hesitate to say yes. I will be making close to four thousand dollars a month, and I can bank all that. In my first call with Jake I tell him with so much enthusiasm he has a hard time keeping up with my words. The phone calls are few and far between and by mid-June I am bored of the same mundane tasks I am doing.
“Kara, I know you can’t do too much being pregnant, but we need to get out, live a little.” She readily agrees, so we get dressed up and look good. We decide we are going to cruise the strip at the beach, known as First Street and take my Jeep with the top down. She has the same love for old school rap as I do, so we are jamming out and cruising. Being seventeen and eighteen year olds and it feels damn good. I put in ‘Just Don’t Bite It’ by NWA and that gets us a lot of attention. I am not going to lie, we eat that shit up and dance and sing. It feels good to be young again. I feel like I have aged twenty years in the past year and I need to get back to being me.
Jake calls me mid-July. They are in Italy and he and Rick have some shore leave. Kara is in Tampa but coming up the next day. I am talking to Jake, and he mentions going to get a tattoo. That sounds yummy and I imagine tracing my tongue around it.
“What are you going to get, babe?”
“Your name.” Oh hell to the no. I choke on my own saliva.
“No. Absolutely not. Get ‘Mom’ or ‘Go Navy’ but do not put my name on your body. That shit is permanent.”
“So are we.” He is irritated with my denial of branding himself with my name.
“That is like the kiss of death. Tattooing someone’s name on you.” He quickly tells me he has to go, and I don’t hear from him for another three weeks. I do find out from Kara he did get the tattoo and it is my name. She swears me to secrecy and says I better act surprised.
I feel myself changing every day. Getting stronger, back to my independence and while I love it, it bothers Jake. He feels like I don’t need him. I try and explain to him I will always need him, I love him, but it is a bone of contention for us. I spend the weekend at Kara’s, and we go to the beach. I snap a few pictures and email them to him, where he responds about the size of my bikini, complaining that I am losing weight. I am most definitely losing weight. My job, is stressful, I barely have time to pee, let alone eat. I am taking classes three nights a week and each class is four hours long. I am stressed and upset about my relationship. Not any of those triggers is conducive to maintaining my weight.
Three months are down out of the six and I have grown really close to Rose. We talk almost daily, and I have learned a lot about Jake and his control issues. His dad is very rigid and expects a lot out of him, but never is happy with any of it. Jake tries to live up to his expectations but seems to fall short in his father’s eyes. I am glad he has had Brian to fill some of that void, but I know as well as anyone that never getting the acceptance from a parent you crave is something that never leaves you. The conversation with Jake seems to go better this time, and I feel some of the light banter coming back between us.
I am telling him a funny story about the middle child I am babysitting for. “So I finally get him in his room for nap time. I told you they have switched the locks on the door so you have to lock them in. It is insane, baby. I wait about twenty minutes and go in to check on him, I walk in to the beds off the box spring and stacked up in front of the closet. Jake, he is three, like a mini Hercules. I tell him to go to sleep, and he spits at me. I don’t know where the hell they got these kids, because they aren’t human. About an hour later, it is finally quiet in his room so I made the mistake of going to check on him. I was not prepared for this. He had shit in his diaper, taken it off and left butt prints all over the walls, closet doors and smeared his diaper in the carpet. What in the fuck is wrong him? Is it wrong to suggest to his parents to get counseling?” I hear him laughing and can imagine the smile across his face. I am trying not to gag as I remember yesterday. I was seriously traumatized . . . and the smell. I may not have a gag reflex when I am giving a blowjob, but when I smell shit; I have one, trust me.
“Pais, they sound like savages. How the hell are you doing that?”
“It is good money, I just keep telling myself that. It is wearing me out, though.” I know he is concerned, and so am I. I continue to drop weight and I am just not hungry. I was small before but I have lost weight I can’t afford to lose. It is draining.
“Promise me you will take care of yourself. Pais, I am worried about you.” And he is. I can tell in his voice.
“I promise I will do better. Don’t worry about me. Can you believe less than three months and you will be home?”
“Thank God. How do you feel about going home with me when I take leave? I think when we get back I am going to start leave. We can take a few days just you and me and then fly to Kansas for a week.”
“Yes, yes, yes. I am so excited.” I tell myself that the Laura thing can’t be true if he wants me in the same town. “I love you so much.”
“Love you more, beautiful.”
Our next conversations are just as nice, until my birthday. I want to go to a club with a few friends I have met in class. He doesn’t want me to and makes a huge deal about it. It is my fucking eighteenth birthday, and I am going. Kara can’t come down; she has been having some cramps and is on bed rest for the remainder of her pregnancy. I get a dozen roses and email on my actual birthday, apologizing and professing his love. I know he is on edge being so far away from me, he is naturally protective, and I have done a lot on my own since he has been away. I know when he feels he can’t control the situation he gets frustrated. I feel like I am constantly making excuses for him, but I also know he loves me, crazy like.
I am dancing and having a great time with a few friends, and I can’t hear my phone. All of a sudden the music stops and the DJ comes on, “Paisley Hull, you have been paged. Please go to the front entrance,” Holy shit, what is happening. I make my way through the crowd and find a bouncer at the front. I tell him who I am and he tells me, “Your mom has been calling. She says to check your phone.” I pull it out and see numerous calls and texts. I call my mom, and she is frantic.
“Kara went in for a checkup today, they transferred her from the base hospital to Tampa General; they can’t stop her labor.” No, she isn’t far enough along. She is only six and a half months into her pregnancy. I don’t say goodbye to anyone and head home. I walk straight to my room, pack a bag and head out again, with my mom telling me to call her and be careful. I have the next two days off, and if needed, I will take as much time as I want.
I rush to find Kara’s room and when I walk in she looks peaceful. She opens her eyes and I can tell she is scared shitless. The tears come and she can’t control them. “I am scared, Paisley. What happens if she doesn’t make it?”
“Stop that, Kara. You are in a top-notch hospital, it may be rough, but you will be okay. Did you just say ‘she’?”
That brings a smile to her face, “Yes, she finally cooperated today, and it is a girl. You are going to have a goddaughter.”
“Hell yes.”
The next few days are tense. Constant monitoring, the medicine they are giving her to stop labor isn’t working and they start steroid shots to speed up the development of her lungs. They decide since they can’t stop it they are going to give that little girl a fighting chance. Forty-eight hours later, I have a three-pound goddaughter. Adaleigh Elizabeth Langley. She is tiny and in the NICU, but will be just fine. I rush out and buy cabbage patch clothes for her so she has something that will fit. Rick’s grandmother called the commanding office and Rick will be flown home for three weeks but will have to rejoin the ship for the rest of the deployment.
