Saturday, November 12, 2011

Part Three - Sleep Like A Child




Waking just as twilight settled outside, Giselle extricated herself from Jon’s tight embrace. Twisting her neck, she watched Jon sleep on peacefully, absently cuddling her pillow. Leaving the warmth of the bed fully, she placed her feet on the familiar rug before stepping onto the cold wood floor. Giselle couldn’t believe she could think of something as trivial as the heat as she considered what she had just signed herself up for. She stood in front of the wall of windows overlooking the river, biting her bare fingernails. 


Jon propped himself on his elbow, watching her think. The river was glistening under the moonlight, out of reach beyond the barrier of glass that was keeping her with him. Her eyes flashed like quicksilver in the pale light the moon gave against the darkness of the night. He spent long moments observing her, praying she wouldn’t change her mind. Jon inhaled her pillow one last time before steeling himself for rejection and leaving the cocoon of sheets.
 
Giselle didn’t know how long she’d stood there, all she knew was that her feet were numb with cold and strong arms were cradling her. Jon rested his head on her shoulder, enjoying the way they fit together. 

“Sel...” She hummed in response. “I love you.” 

It may have been seconds, but it felt like ages before she replied, “I love you, too.” Turning in his arms, she tried to leave his embrace, needing to figure out how they were going to get back on track.  


Clinging to his forearms as a wave of nausea gripped her, the color drained from her face. Jon held her fast as she paled. 

“Sel, are you okay?” he asked worriedly. Her grip lessened by degrees as she returned to her normal state. 

“I’m fine, it passed.” The way she said it made it seem like it was a frequent occurrence which worried him more. She moved to the bathroom to splash water on her face, wondering why it kept happening. Jon leaned against the door frame of the bathroom, watching her cool her face as he connected dots. He'd seen this before.


“You’re pregnant,” he said simply, observing her deep breathing. 

“Please enlighten me: when would I have become pregnant?” she asked, cocking her head, copper strands changing position. 

“That week after the funeral... we didn’t talk and then... well, you were packing..we got mad...” He looked down at his bare feet. 

“On the floor in the closet. I was on the pill then.” She blinked at him, questioning his logic. 

“You weren’t. You started to forget a lot.” Giselle’s face drained of all color again, as she sat on the counter. She was surprised he remembered any of that time. He'd been drunk enough for the both of them.

“Oh God,” she breathed.


 “Why ‘oh God’? If we’re having a baby, shouldn’t you be happy?” Jon knew he shouldn’t be upset at her, but he felt dread churning in his belly. He hoped she wouldn’t. Not after everything. Jon moved to stand in front of her, sensing that crowding was what she needed to bring her back to Earth.  

“It doesn’t feel right, not right now... We only just got back together and she’s barely gone. Don’t you think it would be like replacing her? I don't want any more children.” Her fists clenched and released as she felt anxiety build within her. 


Giselle made a conscious effort to relax and rested her palms flat on his strong chest. 

“You know it’s not. This is probably her way of bonding us. She’s sending us an angel. Let’s not worry until we know for sure, okay?” 

Giselle nodded, tears filling her eyes as Jon held her close. He lifted her like a child and returned to the bed. Whispering platitudes, he enfolded her in his embrace, not willing to let her go.


‘Cause I, I go insane, crazy sometimes,
 Tryin’ to keep you from losing your mind, 
Open your eyes, see what’s in front of your face, 
Save me my fistful of tears*


Fistful of Tears - Maxwell