The Meringue Rainbowcy-A Legacy Gone Technicolor Generation Starry Chapter 15 Part 2

My nausea returned in small spurts here and there before it disappeared completely. But I just dismissed it as easily as I did with everything else that was happening lately. I hadn't been eating exactly normally after his death so I just easily chalked it up to that. However the one thing that I couldn't dismiss was the growing of my stomach. Before I had always been naturally skinny but now, now everything seemed too tight and my once flat stomach was sporting a round chubbiness that I had never known before. I knew it could be one of two things. I was either pregnant or had some sort of tumor. Though I knew the latter was unlikely but the hospital shows that I now had begun to watch religiously on my parents couch made me think otherwise. I was hoping no praying for the otherwise, that it would be something horrible but not as devastating as being pregnant after all of this. Anything, anything but being pregnant would just about suffice me. I couldn't be, not now, not with him gone. How could I raise our child without him? In the back of my mind I could name off a handful of singles mothers but none of them were in the same spot I was. If I was pregnant how would I ever be able to explain to our child about what happened to their father?

If I was then I knew I couldn't put off making an appointment much longer. If I could already see a difference in my body then I had to be a little bit along ways. And even though I wasn't exactly please with what might be I still had to do something about it. So I made an appointment, which only confirmed my second worst fear. I was pregnant. Even though I had thought that I was pregnant, contemplated pregnancy, entertained the wild idea of me being a mother and eventually figured that I might very well be pregnant, just hearing it out loud took the breath out of my and left me in a momentarily stunned silence. “Are you sure?” I asked, questioned the doctor for the third time when I finally found my voice again. “Yes! You’re going to be a mommy!” She exclaimed with an answer as she evidently looked past my reaction and demeanor into thinking that I wanted this, as if this could be something that I wanted. How could anyone even think that I would want something like this? Yes logically I was at that age where girls were usually married and having their first child but this wasn't right. But this whole situation was so wrong, so very, very wrong. Here I was being the receiver of the second worst new of my life and in a tacky green and white room filled with posters of joyous mothers and their offspring.

“But I can’t be pregnant. I’m on the pill.” I stupidly tried to argue as if this was something that could be won through a debate. But she just shook her head as she laughed with a smile that brimmed with joy that I was lacking. “But you are! The pill is so effect and that’s if you take it as you are supposed to. IF you don’t then its effectiveness is reduced drastically. Now we can schedule you for an ultrasound tomorrow since we are just about full up today. Just about everyone is having a baby this season. Probably dues to all the rain we got last season. But we do need to see exactly how far along you are since you already have such a cute itty bitty little baby bump. Of course I will be writing you a prescription for prenatal vitamins that you’ll have to start taking every day starting immediately as in today. And then…”

“No! I cannot be pregnant! You don’t fudging understand. My husband is dead! As in he died like a flippin’ month ago. So how can I have a piece of him living inside of me when he is dead? So no I can’t be pregnant! I mean don’t even own a car! ” I asserted quite possibly irrationally but very loudly as my voice echoed off the walls of the examination room. The once joyful posters now seemed to jeer at me and my discomfort. They mocked me with their happiness. They probably had their husbands living all fine and dandy, together as one big happy family. “I’m sorry I didn't know.” The doctor stammered as she verbally began to trip over her words. “Just leave me alone!” I yelled at her not even seeing her anymore or any of my surroundings. She quietly left although I barely even noticed as I fumbled to get dressed quickly. With each article of clothing that I put on a new sob bolted from my mouth. As soon as I was decent enough I ran out of there fleeing the hospital as if I could out run the news that I was just given. I didn't know where I was going but I was going somewhere fast, taking turns and exits subconsciously my mother’s car was soon speeding down a freeway.

But I found myself in Briocheport heading toward the place that Sanguinello and I had what felt like ages ago called home. The one place that I had never wanted to ever be again where it happened. The sky that had looked like it was on the verge of raining decided to open up and let it pour down hard as if was urging me to stay away though like everything I was going to meet this head on, there was no more avoiding it. So I drove on letting it caused me no concern or hindering me in anyway. The soft sound of the windshield wipers swooshing across the glass while rain pounded down on the metal roof of the car filled the emptiness of my mother’s car. Like a woman on a mission I couldn't be deterred. I went there for the first time since I had left him against my better judgment that night. I was breathless and out of air by the time I hurried up to our apartment. Shoving the key in the door I didn't even stop to it out after I unlocked it. It was dark for a moment but lightening briefly illuminated the room before a loud crash of thunder followed. A memory of our first thunderstorm all the way up on the 17th floor struggled to rise from the depths of my mind but I pushed it back down with vigor of girl that’s had just about all that she could take in a lifetime when hers wasn't even halfway up. All traces of our life together seemed to be wiped clean from the apartment. Feeling confused I looked around thinking silly that we had been robbed but knowing that, that wasn't true.

All of our possessions were gone now and boxed up neatly in my parent’s basement. But still the sight of the now barren apartment was the only thing that could make me pause momentarily before I crossed the living room and flung myself out the balcony door. I headed right to the spot that he must have stood at that night, raising my face up to the clouded night as the rain fell down upon me, I shouted as loudly as I could one single word. A word that wasn't only meant for Sanguinello but it was more so meant for the story of my life, every struggle, every pain, every time I felt lonely and wondered what was wrong with me. I let it out letting it roar loudly up from inside of me feeling the very sound of one so seemingly insignificant word tear up my throat so loudly as I gripped my hands on the thick wet slippery glass.

“Why?”

And just like that I was brought to my knees.

All the adrenaline rushed out of my body as quickly as it had come, I was left with was what was now identified as pregnancy hormones. Soaked to my core my clothes clung to my cold body I sat there crying my eyes out and for a moment I kidded myself when I thought I saw him or at least something pink in my blurry vision. But with a blink of an eye as I squinted through the rain being pelted down on me and the flash of lighting it was gone and I instantly doubted where I had even seen anything at all.

It was late when I got home. I was still drenched to the bone the car ride with heat on and all the vents blowing on me did not thing to help with that. Both my parents were asleep and the house was silent. It was the first night that I found myself just as quietly slipping off to sleep. And it was also the first night that I had no dreams.

The next morning I stared down my reflection in the bathroom, looking hard at my stomach trying to make some sense once again of the card I had been dealt yesterday. Pregnant? There is no fudging way that could be. I tried to image how much longer I was going to be able to stretch my normal clothes over myself to hide my belly. Sanguinello and I were somewhat careful about that sort of thing. Because he was very adamant about not having kids, he never believed that he could ever be a proper father with his condition nor did he ever want to burden a child with the possibility of inheriting it. Plus I never wanted to have a child anyway. I wasn't cut out for this mommy stuff nor did I have my saint of a mother’s patience. Oh berry. I thought to myself remember all the times that I've lost my temper or told some random person off. I’m going to be the worst mother out there. Random days started to come back to me days where my forgetfulness consumed me or I found myself running late again as I told myself that I’d just take it when I got home later before I made a mad dash out the door. I cursed under my breath as I realized this was all on my own doing. I was an idiot for thinking I could handle just having to take a pill at the same time every day. I should have known that I would have forgotten or something and went for another option. Berry one of us should have gotten snipped

Sanguinello was my first and only love. He was my first kiss, first boyfriend, first to make my heart skip a beat, my first everything. Pausing with my clothes in my hand as I was readying myself for another day I found it impossible to put them on again. I won’t say that not having it didn't cross my mind but in the end at this stage with me starting to show and everything I don’t think I could have done it in the end. That thought of even having to explain doing that to my mother was enough to wipe away any chance at that happening. So I accepted it. I was going to be a mother. I was going to try my hardest not to mess this child up but at the same time I mentally made a note to start saving up money for psychiatrist in case I did.

So into the trash my clothes went momentarily where they remained for a few minutes as time slipped by slowly and almost lazily. Sitting sadly in the litter basket looking as if they were discarded without any thought and maybe for a second they were. But each minute crept by was like an eternity until I retrieved them. I couldn’t just throw them away like this. Each little stitch of fabric seemed to hold a memory hidden and tucked away in every identical little folds of the thread where they intertwined. My fingers dotingly smoothed out the knitted top making sure that it was folded nicely before moving on to the shorts. It was almost ceremonious with each turn the cloth took as I overlapped the fabric. It felt like I was saying goodbye to a past life or an old friend as I tucked the tights and socks in-between the two and laid the whole outfit into a box that was under my bed who’s holdings once consisted of art supplies though now in the years that had passed was all but devoid of them save for a few dried up things of paint and some old brushes. Now its new job was to be a safe place for those few precious articles of clothing, remaining hidden once again but this time stashed away in the depths of my closet with all those memories where no one could hurt them. It was time to grow up. I thought to myself as I grabbed the baggiest and loose fitting outfit I could find as I prepared myself to not only conceded to the fact that I was going to be a mother but also share that information with my family right now and then possibly enter in one of those maternity shops. I was conquering mountains today.

“So I’m pregnant.” I casually announced hoping that no one would act like anything was out of the ordinary. Nothing to see here just a pregnant widow, move it along people. I mentally visualized myself telling them all to do. As if any of them would ever really listen.

“How did that happen?” My father asked while my sister Wisteria unsuccessfully stifled a chuckle. What the fudge was she doing here anyway? She’s married with a kid; she should be at her own home. I irately thought as I shot her an annoyed look which she just rolled her eyes at. Dressed smartly from head to toe in jewel tones the corporate world suited her much better than the life of a stay at home mother did. And I suppressed a smile at the memory of her as one.“Well you see dad when a man and a women love each other they want to often express that love in a way…” She started to say be before he gruffly interrupted er with a darkening face that had the etching of a life that went haywire somewhere along the way “Yes I know that. Believe me with 5 kids of my own, I very well know that! But she haven’t dated anyone since Sanguinello…”

“That’s because it is Sanguinello’s dad, I must have been pregnant a few weeks along before he…”

“Oh my sweet, sweet Berry…” My mother gasped in realization that I was carrying my dead suicidal husband’s child. I only hoped the multiple genes skips me because as much as I was trying to handle having a child by myself without Sanguinello ever being able to be there, I wasn't sure if I could handle more than one. But my father though momentarily stunned by this new was quick on his feet and recovered smoothly.

“Starry we and I think I can speak for your mother, think you should stay here until after the baby is born at the very least. Please stay here as long as you want or at least now let us help support you if you do go back.” My father offered and as soon as he finished my mother spoke up suggesting “We could turn Indigo’s old room into a nursery since it’s connected to your old room where you've been staying as it is.” Staying there for at least throughout my pregnancy seemed like a good idea, a safe idea. Hiding away from the rest of the world at my parents’ house completely chucking out any adult responsibility beyond growing this child in me. Yeah it seemed like the best idea there could be. What else was I going to do go back there? Find a new place somewhere pregnant and jobless in a new city? “Sure I’ll stay… That uh um... that’d be nice.”

“You know in less than three years you’ll come into your trust.” My father began to say hesitantly before he seemed think the better of it. He was right, I had completely forgotten about the trust funds that my father had set up for each and every one of his children to get on their thirtieth birthday. He didn't believe that anyone was mature enough to inherit the amount that we would before the age of thirty. Maybe he was right if we had we would have probably been less responsible living life without a second thought and without financial regard. We were supposed to learn how to live on our own and be able support ourselves. Or at least that is what my father hoped for.  No one really talked about it as my mother thought that was in bad manners to discuss money matters.

As I grew and grew over the next months the question mark that had become my life along with it.  What was I going to do? I couldn't stay with my parents forever as much as they probably would have loved me to. Eventually I would have to leave and finally start to rebuild my life and I could do that in three years. I could have a life with just me and my child. Money wouldn't be that big of an issue. My paintings were worth less than the supplies I needed to make them. But still I could make them and attempt to sell them without going into debt. Oddly though into my 7^th month I received a phone call of a dealer wanting to purchase a small of Sangiunello’s that he had seen in a portfolio that my late husband had left at some gallery days before he died. But I couldn't bring myself to part with them. Every time I looked at them I saw a piece of his soul that remained here with me. It was the closest thing to a hug from him that I would ever get in this lifetime. So I declined and kept them along with everything else hoarded away as if one day he was going to come back and actually need all of his old possessions. The longer I kept them though I realized that they were not just for me but for our unborn child too. One day I hoped that he would be able to look at these to see what I see in them and to maybe forgive his father for not being able to be strong enough to continue on his battle or at least from the darker painting have some insight on the on goings of his father’s mind.

But as time kept going so did I and even though I might have held on to a few thing I was starting to learn how to live again. By my ninth month I wasn't completely over what happened with Sanguinello but I was beginning to be alright again. The nursery was finished with being decorated by the beginning of my ninth month and it laid in wait until the day that it was finally able to be used. Dusty faded pinks and dark lavenders graced almost every surface with hints of blue and indigo trying to make their presence known as well. For someone that wanted to make a career out of art one could argue that I didn't have a decorators bone in me but I think I did pretty well on decorating the baby’s room. Everything was now ready all we had to do now was wait for him to make his grand appearance. But simply just waiting was something he had not in in mind and on one of my weekly doctor visits I received the news that he was breeched and the likelihood of having a normal birth would not suffice the doctors or my concern for my son’s safety. So a cesarean was elected quickly followed by the choice to have my tubes tied. I wasn't going through this again, not by myself.