“I got a surprise for you!” He beamed. He climbed into bed and showed her the laptop after plugging it in.
“We’re going to need internet.” She gave him a curious look, smiling at the mechanical device as it warmed up.
“Yeah. I’ll order that in a bit. Turn on the hotspot key and let’s see if there is free internet.”
“I have no idea what that meant.” She said, still smiling at her new toy.
He searched for the wireless switch and sure enough the internet indicator came on. Ha, maybe they wouldn’t need to order internet after all.
“How are you feeling?” He asked after they had played on it for a while.
“Sleepy.” She responded. “You?”
“The same.”
“Did you take your medicine?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me about the medicine; what it does, side effects, everything.”
“Okay. But I need to make lunch, aren’t you hungry?”
“Yep. I ate the eggs. Thanks. You can make a salad, that will be quick, and I can come into the kitchen and watch you; I’ll sit in the chair.”
“Hmmm. Will you put your feet up?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” He stood up and yawned. “I need to…” He blinked but didn’t say anything else.
“What?” She waited. “Troy?”
His eye twitched and then his neck and mouth, and then it was over. “I need to call my Mom and Dad. They’re probably worried sick.”
“That was short.”
“What was?” He gave her a confused look.
“That seizure.”
“I had a seizure?”
“I think so.”
“How quick?”
“Five seconds…”
“Hmmm. Cool.” He whipped out his cell phone. “Ta daahh!”
“Damn. You bought a cell phone? You sure that medicine works for more than just seizures?”
She stood and walked into the kitchen while Troy made his first call on his own cell phone.
Then he made lunch while Juicy sat in two chairs; one for her butt the other for her feet. He told her about the different medications, about pain killers for migraines, he told her about possible liver damage, weight loss, chronic fatigue…but he also told her about driving a car and holding his baby without worrying about dropping her.
They went back to the bedroom and ate there, munching salad and apple slices.
“We need to start buying stuff for the baby.” He said. “…and thinking of a name.”
“I’ve been thinking of names.” She said shyly.
“Juicy, with all do respect, I don’t want a daughter named Juicy Jr.”
She popped him playfully in the head. “I was thinking Jasmine, after my Mom Jassmina.”
He smiled gently. “That’s beautiful, honey. Jasmine Hyden.”
“Hyden?!” Juicy joked. “Jasmine Robinson.”
“That is so mean.” He said. “Well, I was going to do this on our one year anniversary but whats three or four more months.” He took her hand. “Juicy Robinson, would you please grant me the honor of becoming my wife? Juicy Hyden is such a pretty name. Don’t you think, babe? Juicy and Jasmine Hyden…and however many more little Hyden’s we decide to create. Would you like to do that with me?”
She took a deep breath and placed her hand on her belly. “Yeah…there is only one man in the world that I think I’d want to do that with, and that’s you honey.”
He kissed her, lingering into it for a few moments before withdrawing. He didn’t need to get her pressure up, not to mention his own. He put his head down by her belly. “Hey little one. You’re official. You have a name and everything.” He peeked at his fiancé. “Um, what about a middle name?”
She shrugged. “Okay. Do you want to choose it?”
“Well, there is this name that I can’t seem to get out of my head.”
“What is it?”
“Fre-erasia.”
“Are you shittin’ me? Jasmine Fre-erasia Hyden?”
“Too over the top?”
She lay back tiredly. “Sounds like a third world country.”
He nodded and then squinted at her. “How about Kelly?”
“Kelly?”
“Yeah. I never told you the story about Kelly.” He gathered her into his arms as he lay back against the pillow with her cradled against him. He told her the story and when it was over she had tears on her cheeks. She lifted his hands and kissed each of his fingertips.
“You almost lost your fingertips to frostbite because of some damned idiots!”
“Shhh.” He whispered when he felt her getting upset. “It’s over and I learned that there is good just as there is bad. Some don’t ever learn that.”
She looked at him with so much love. Why didn’t more come like him? The bad in his life didn’t create hate. He allowed the good to create understanding. Why couldn’t she be more like that? “I knew you had a hard life on the streets, baby, but…I had no idea. I think Jasmine Kelly Hyden is a perfect name.”
He told her several funny stories about his brief exploits into pick pocketing, and happy times with good friends that he’d met. They fell asleep in each other’s arms and then woke up and made love very gently from their spooning position.
***
“I wish I could go to the Doctor’s with you.” Juicy said with so much longing. He knew that she hated being on bed rest. But he’d just gone to her Doctor’s appointment with her for the very first time, just the day before and Dr. Luenenberger had reiterated the need for her to not go into premature labor. He wanted her at thirty-four weeks and then he’d arrange to take the baby. Troy could sense that he was concerned even as he tried to keep her calm. After the appointment he left Juicy to pretend to use the restroom and hurried back to speak to the Doctor.
“Dr. Luenenberger…um Juicy and I had…” he tried to find the right words.
“Sex?” The doctor prompted.
Troy nodded.
“Abstain, son.”
“Oh. Yes sir.”
“And son…I’ve noticed your…”
“Fiance?”
“Yes. Your fiancé has…anger issues.”
“Well, sometimes. Okay, yes she does.”
“Yeah. Well son, while she’s pregnant; she is always right and you are always wrong. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.” He nodded. Which was the case anyways—pregnancy or not.
“Good.” He clapped Troy on the back and went on his way.
Now he was on his way to his first appointment with a neurologist referred by the specialist back in Connecticut. He was anxious and fearful that she’d totally negate everything that the specialist had told him. Then it would mean that this was all just another big lie.
Yet the seizures were changing. They were less frequent and of a shorter duration and it had just been a week. So that counted for something. Something was working. Still his stomach hurt and he was so tired that it was probably a good thing that Juicy was on bed rest so that he could sleep whenever she did.
“I wish I could drive you. I’d just be sitting quietly-” she said wistfully.
“Well, you get sorta angry when you drive.”
“Angry…”
“Road rage, honey.” Juicy talked out loud when she drove, complaining that people were trying to run her off the road, or were tailgating her just because they were a little closer than she liked. Sometimes she sped up so as to not allow a driver to merge ahead of her just because they looked like they had an attitude.
He picked up his wallet and cell phone then he bent over and kissed her and kissed the baby. “Okay, my lovely ladies, I will return shortly.” He headed out the bedroom door, but turned back around and looked at Juicy sitting so forlornly in the bed. She had the laptop sitting on her lap, yet he knew that it was no fun being stuck in bed all day. “I’ll bring you back a surprise.”
Her eyes lit up. “You will?”
“Yep.”
“Okay.” At least she was smiling now.
The new Doctor was a lady and reminded him of his mother before he had run away and caused her to age before her time. He felt instantly comfortable around her and she insisted that he call her Janet instead of Dr. Peters.
Janet explained that they had all of the records from Connecticut and that she’d had an opportunity to review them. She was pleased with the feedback from the neurologist and felt that they were right on course with what she wanted to do. He was very relieved…though not so much when he had to redo his stress test.
He stripped out of his shirt and went jogging on the treadmill. After about twenty-seven minutes the stitch in his side wouldn’t go away. He suddenly doubled over and vomited at his feet, almost falling in it. Instead, the safety was engaged and the treadmill came to an abrupt stop causing him to stumble to the floor.
“Troy!” Janet was suddenly there. He sat on his butt and rubbed his knee. Then there came the familiar feeling of a band tightening around his forehead. Damn, not now! Not a migraine…He suddenly squinted.
“My head…”
“Did you bump it?” She helped him off the floor, leading him to a chair where he sat down carefully.
“Migraine.” His hands were shaking now and she hurried away for something in one of her cabinets. Troy lowered his head between his knees, still panting from his recent run and squeezing his eyes closed.
“Troy, I’m going to give you an injection for pain.”
“I’m tired…” He murmured.
“Tired? Do you need to lay dow-?”
“No. I’m tired of this.” After a moment, he felt her swab his arm and then the quick sharpness of the hypodermic needle. She placed her hand on his shoulder.
“Troy. You need to get up in lay down on this bed.”
He blinked and slowly did as she asked. “I need to call Juicy.”
“What?”
“Juicy.” He sighed and placed his arm over his eyes. “Lights…”
“Oh!” She hurried to turn off the overhead lights.
“Do I need to call someone for you?”
He nodded, semi conscious. “Juicy…”
“Juicy? Is that what you’re saying?”
“Juicy Hyden, Jasmine Hyden…”
***
Juicy loved placing her hand on her belly and feeling the baby kicking back against it. She tried to imagine her baby but couldn’t picture a mixture between her and Troy. He was tall and lanky with blonde hair and grey eyes, and she had black skin and black eyes. Their baby could be caramel, dark chocolate, even vanilla. She chuckled and thought about how freaked her mother would have been by the fact that she was in love with a white man. She quickly shook her head and thought about something other than Momma.
She got out of bed and walked to the spare room. She was so anxious to decorate it. It would be a wonderful baby’s room. She imagined yellow paint on the walls and pretty willowy white curtains. She had once seen a room that had pretty butterflies hanging from the ceiling with nylon wings and papier-mâché bodies. She wanted white furniture and a princess bed.
Her face slowly fell. That is what she had always wanted for herself. Instead, her bedroom had been a sagging couch and when she got old enough her feet hung off the ends. They had been poor, but…
She turned away from the room with a frown. She went to the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea. She did not want to think about Momma. There used to be a time when thinking about her brought a smile to her face. But since discovering that she was pregnant, the idea of being a Momma meant something different then what she’d associated to Jassmina Robinson.
She mechanically went through the motions of putting on the tea kettle and getting the tea bag, a mug and honey. She placed them neatly on the table.
“When I was a kid, I used to clean your house from top to bottom.” She said absently, speaking out loud to an empty room. She turned the mug until the handle faced to the right then she turned the honey until the label faced the chair. She unwrapped the teabag and placed it neatly into the mug with the little paper tag hanging to the right. She threw the wrapping into the trash.
“On Sundays I’d scrub the bathroom floor with a scrub brush, and then use the mop to wax. I took all of the things off your dresser once a week and waxed your dresser. I changed the sheets on your big bed and then when I did the laundry I folded all of your clothes and put them into your bureau.”
Juicy moved to the kitchen drawer, opened it and removed a tea spoon. “Every week it was the same routine. After school I did hair until I got tired. I was too tired to do homework. When I went to school I didn’t know what they were talking about. I felt stupid, so I didn’t go to school.”
She placed the spoon next to the teacup directly on top of a neatly folded napkin. “Momma, how come you didn’t move us to a bigger apartment so that I could have something? I don’t remember ever having anything except for you.” She stood in front of the stove and watched the simmering teapot, contemplating it as if it were a puzzle, though it wasn’t actually the teapot that she was seeing.
“You didn’t…” She was frowning as she thought. “You didn’t take care of me. I took care of you. You didn’t cook for me. You just brought home food that was bad for me and turned me into a fat…” She turned off the burner, picked up the potholder and carefully carried the teapot to the table where she poured water into her mug. She paused.