“Miss Robinson, your test results are back. We do need for you to make an appointment immediately to discuss them. You can call Monday through Friday-”
NEXT
“Hi, Juice.” It was him! She began pacing. “Sorry that I left the way I did. It’s not you or…th-the pr-pregnancy. I needed to…” He paused. “…I needed to get some things straight in my head. So I decided to go back home.”
What???? Juicy almost fell down while trying to sit on the couch.
“I’m at my parent’s house. I know you’re at the shop and I know you won’t be happy when you get this message, which is why I guess that I’m leaving it on voicemail instead of calling your cell phone.” He cleared his throat. “But I’ll be back as soon as I get things straightened out. I’ll call you later I love you.” The last sounded like an after-thought and then the call ended.
Juicy stared at the phone. That’s it??? He had gone all the way to Connecticut and all he could say is that he’d be back as soon as he got things straight?! “Go to hell!” She screamed at the phone. He was breaking up with her; the chicken shit! And he didn’t have the guts to do it face to face! Then tears sprouted in her eyes. ‘I can’t believe he just left…’
“GO TO HELL!” She screamed.
She felt lightheaded suddenly and decided to lay on the couch. She fell asleep there, still clutching the phone.
***
"You're not very healthy, Mrs. Robinson." The prenatal doctor said. The older man folded his glasses and gave her a reprimanding look with his faded grey eyes. "You haven't had any prenatal care. You're overweight, you smoke-"
"Smoke? I don't smoke!"
The doctor referred to her chart. "Your file says you smoke. And..." He squinted at her. "And you were a victim of a rape just about the same time of your conception." Now his expression was embarrassed.
Juicy slid off the examining table. "Look, that file is all wrong!" She was wearing a hospital gown that was too small and she gripped it tightly in back. "I don't smoke! AND it was an ATTEMPTED rape! AND it was a month
before
I got pregnant." What was he trying to imply?
The doctor took a step back, away from the red eyed woman. "Mrs. Robinson, you need to calm down-"
"Pardon me Doctor, for getting a bit upset! But you're reading my medical history and IT'S ALL WRONG!"
"Miss Robinson you have pre-eclampsia. Please calm down."
Juicy held her stomach protectively. "What is that? Is it going to hurt my baby?" Up until that second, her pregnancy was a ‘thing’, now it was a baby, her baby, her very own child.
“That’s what I want to talk to you about.” He guided her back to the examining table. Fear kept her mouth tightly shut. "Sit down, and try to relax. You need to hear what I'm saying. It's essential that you don't allow yourself to become stressed. Pre-eclampsia is high blood pressure but generally shows up in the latter stages of pregnancy. Once the baby is born then the illness goes away." He sighed. "In your case your pre-eclampsia is severe—because you haven't been to a Doctor." That last part was still accusing.
She dismissed his attitude. "But how will that hurt my baby?"
"Pre-eclampsia can prevent oxygen from being delivered to the placenta, which then affects the fetus. Low birth weight is one of the effects. But if it develops into eclampsia, then...the results can be perinatal and maternal mortality."
Fancy doctor words...but Juicy knew exactly what they meant; it could kill her baby and her. Her breath came in shallow gulps and she knew that if she could see herself in a mirror that her color would have gone two shades pale.
Perinatal and maternal mortality…
"I'm not supposed to stress out but you tell me I have a condition that could be potentially fatal for me and my baby-" her voice had gone so dry that the words sounded cracked and faint.
"No no no. You don't have eclampsia, at least not yet. And we're going to get your blood pressure reduced in order to make sure that you don't get that. Okay?"
No, it wasn't okay. Not by a long shot. Damn Troy! This was not good for her right now. She inhaled a shaky voice. "What do I need to do?"
"I need to see you twice a week." He was writing something on a pad. "Get some rest, Miss Robinson. I don’t want you doing anything but staying in bed.” Yeah, right, she thought. She read the doctor's chicken scratch as he left the room. It said, 'Take two aspirins daily and stay in bed.'
"Hey! What in the hell kind of prescription is this?" She glared at the empty room since there was no one around to focus her anger at. Aspirin and bed rest?! It was because she was one of the 'invisible' people that Troy talked about! Aspirin and bed rest was going to save her baby’s life?! She dressed and instead of going home she went straight to the library and did her own research on pre-eclampsia.
***
Ok, so the Doctor had been right about resting. Several days ago, when she was getting lightheaded all of the time and feeling tired, she thought she’d better make a doctor’s appointment. Maybe she’d finally developed diabetes or perhaps her blood pressure had gotten out of control. Never in a million years would she have suspected that she was pregnant.
Because she didn’t have regular menstrual cycles due to the depo shot, she had been given an ultra sound. When that nurse said twenty-two weeks, she frantically began calculating in her head. Five months! Hell, that meant that she was over halfway through a pregnancy that she hadn’t even suspected! She had been so anxious to tell Troy. She’d been happy about it. Now, he’d ruined that for her. Now she was just afraid; afraid and angry.
By the time she left the library and the free internet there, it was already dark. She hadn't even gone to the shop at all. She had aspirin at the apartment so she just went home, tired, stressed, angry, in tears...and alone. Juicy didn't even check her voicemail that evening, not wanting to hear Troy’s weak excuses for not being here.
She was willing to concede that he might not be breaking up with her. Maybe he was just confused and needed time. But now, so did she. And how was she going to get time to think things through? And what kind of things did he need to think through?! Whether or not he should be with her, whether or not she should have this baby? Was that why he had that horrified look on his face when she told him just how many months…too far along to end it?!
No. She didn’t want to talk to him. She had just found out some horrific news and she was going through it alone because he had selfishly run off to Connecticut. And no, she had no intentions of telling him. If he cared, then he’d be here and not there. Angry tears appeared in her eyes, but she was too scared to cry. That would be too much stress on her and her baby. Cry…or hold it in; which would be worse, though?
Juicy went into her bedroom, trying to keep her mind carefully blank. She ignored the tears that continued to sting at her eyes until they eventually dried up. She stripped out of her clothes and climbed into bed wearing just her panties and bra. She closed her eyes and was asleep immediately.
When the alarm went off instead of getting out of bed, Juicy knocked it to the floor. Damned thing didn't break. She dragged herself out of bed, opened the window and launched it through the air where it shattered in the middle of the street. Juicy went to the toilet, took her prenatal vitamin, took two aspirin and then climbed back into bed. She slept for another four hours until the trilling of her cell phone dragged her out of bed once again. "Hello..." She murmured.
"Juicy?" It was Ebonique, from the shop. "Girl you alright? We've been calling you all morning! You sound like shit."
"I'm pregnant."
"Oh girl, you and Candyman! Congratulations! But you don't sound too pleased."
"I'm sick."
"Ahhh, morning sickness is a bitch."
"Not that. Pre-eclampsia."
"Ewww, sounds bad, whatever it is."
"Ebonique, just do me a favor and hold it down at the shop for me. Make the deposits nightly, and cancel my appointments. You do that for me and don't screw me over and I'll wave your booth fees for a month."
Ebonique actually made a whooping scream. "You got it, girl!"
Juicy went back to sleep. Her home phone rang repeatedly throughout her sleep and when it was still ringing at 10 pm she opened her eyes, climbed out of bed and unplugged it. Yeah, Troy. I’ll talk to you when
I
feel like it…
Pushing thoughts of Troy to the farthest corner of her mind, Juicy headed for the kitchen. She was still tired but also starving; having skipped dinner yesterday and sleeping through breakfast, lunch and dinner today. Poking around in the fridge, she found herself craving a cranberry orange muffin and hating herself for it. She took all of the baked good that he had made and threw them in the garbage and then she ate four peanut butter sandwiches and went back to bed.
The next day Juicy dragged herself out of bed. After showering she stood nude in the mirror, staring at herself and poking at her swollen belly. How did she not know that this was a baby and not just fat? She was huge! Well now she wouldn’t need that liposuction that she’d been thinking about.
She dressed quickly and decided to go to the grocery store for healthy food. She moved up and down the various aisles, looking at the packaging, touching the produce, considering how to prepare the meat in a healthy way. She knew what healthy people ate fruits, vegetables and things like that. But she just didn’t want any of this crap. She hadn’t grown up on healthy food but on butter cakes and pigs feet, pinto beans with neckbones…damn, her mouth was watering. What she wouldn’t do for one of those butta butta cakes from her childhood! She scowled at the bundle of raw spinach.
Her face reluctantly straightened when she considered the fact that because she was overweight and had never taken care of herself, that her unborn baby had a life threatening condition. She continued down the aisle with more resolve, bypassing the macaroon cookies. Her cell phone rang shrilly and she looked at the number before answering. Out of state area code. She flipped it open angrily.
“Hello?” came her unfriendly greeting.
“Juicy?”
“Who else would be answering my cell phone, Troy? Yeah it’s me.”
There was an awkward pause. “I’m at my parent’s house. Did you get the message I left for you yesterday?”
“I sure did.” She moved down the aisle, pushing the cart quickly with her free hand.
He paused again. “I wanted to explain about coming here and how things have been for me since I got here.”
Oh? How things have been for him? Her movements down the aisle became more erratic and she clipped the thigh of an older woman who yelped in surprised pain.
“Sorry.” She bit out as she continued.
“What?” Troy asked.
“Troy, I’m at the grocery store, I just ran over an old lady, so I can’t talk and push this big-ass cart at the same time. When are you coming home?”
“Well…that’s the thing Juice. I’m not going to come home immediately. I need to take care of-”
The rest of his words sounded like WAH WAH WAH WAH, as if he was the adult in a Charlie Brown cartoon. She felt light headed again.
I’m going to black the fuck out…
No, this is not happening. I am not getting dumped by a guy that lives in boarded up buildings! No I am not going to have to raise this baby alone like my Momma had to raise me…
“Juicy?! Are you there? Hello?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you hear that I’m not going to be home because I’m in treatment for my seizures and tics –WAH WAH WAH WAH- seventy-two hour hold, psychiatric evaluation – WAH WAH WAH WAH – Juicy?”
She had stopped walking and was standing there, skin ashen and a little damp. “Yeah.”
“I gotta go, I wish I can talk longer but…I’ll call you tomorrow. I love you.”
“Yeah.” She murmured, flipping the phone closed. She couldn’t think about groceries right now. Juicy hurried out of the store and to her car where she sat with her head back against the head rest, panting and sweating. After a few minutes, the sweating stopped and her heart wasn’t pounding in her chest. She got out and went back into the store. Mercifully, her cart was still there. She hurriedly paid and went home. On the way she stopped at the bakery and got muffins. She ate three of them even before she got to the apartment.
Juicy climbed into bed, feeling as if she needed to catch up on a lifetime of sleep.
CHAPTER 11
When Juicy was eighteen years old her Momma died; not immediately—it didn’t happen in one day, and perhaps Juicy could consider her mother’s entire life as a slow death. But it was when Juicy was eighteen that marked the end of the life that Jassmina Robinson had once lived.
Juicy had come home from school. It was one of the few days that month that she’d even bothered to go to school. At the age of eighteen she was only in the tenth grade—not because she wasn’t smart enough, but because she just didn’t bother to attend classes. She had absolutely no interest in school. Juicy figured that she could be more productive bringing home money than sitting in a classroom all day while her clients found other people to take their money! Besides, she wanted to do hair for a living, so what good was history and math when she already had her future mapped-out for herself?! Besides, she barely knew what was going on in class. She didn’t do the homework because she was too busy with customers, and she couldn’t study because she didn’t even know where to begin.
However, Momma wouldn’t let her drop out. But now that she was eighteen years old, Momma just couldn’t rule her anymore! She would just have to face the fact that she could legally do what she wanted. As a matter of fact, she had actually been thinking about getting her own place; one with two bedrooms so that she could do heads in one of the rooms. And it would definitely have to be far away from the projects; in the suburbs, maybe.