Luck In Pain

The aroma of Bailey’s apple pie wafted from the kitchen to the living room. Her footsteps sounded as they crossed the mahogany floor and entered the living room. Christmas rock played on the stereo, pushing Let it Snow by Boyz II Men, waving the season’s greetings through our country home. We’d wanted a baby by now. I did. I know she did, too. But it was as though she had a baron womb. We ceded no ground to doubt and tried for a year. Bailey would take a test to disappoint even the angels because Bailey would have a gorgeous little girl. I knew it’d be a girl. How? I didn’t know. I just knew that was in God’s plans.

Bailey wiped her hands on her apron and gave me a sidelong glance. “What are you waiting for?” She pursed her lips and hugged herself. Bailey lifted her blue eyes to the attic and returned her glance at me.

I folded the newspaper and reached for my glass to sip my gin over rocks in a streakless glass. I set the glass on the table.

“That time again, isn’t it?” I had to retrieve the lights from the attic to wrap around the freshly cut tree.

“Yeah,” Bailey said, moving her wrist across her damp eyes. “Your first Christmas without her,” she said, her lips quivering.

I pushed myself upright and reached to tuck her long, red bangs behind her ear. “And it’s our first Christmas married in our home.”

“How can you be so strong?” Bailey spilled into my arms.

I kissed her forehead. “I’d better get started before your folks arrive.”

“Okay.” She squeezed me.

I reached to lift her chin and kissed her again. Her deep blue oval eyes still had passion.

Bailey moved her hands across her damp eyes. “I better go check on the sugar cookies.” Bailey hugged me with her strength and went into the kitchen, quietly singing Christmas lyrics.

“Your pills,” I said.

Bailey stopped and twisted around. “What about them?”

“You took them, right?”

Weight twisted her lips into a frown. “No…”

“We talked about this,” I said.

“Honey, don’t worry about it.”

“No,” I said, “you don’t get to pick which vow I keep.”

“Fine,” Bailey said, motioning.

I rolled my eyes. “Watch out.” I moved into the kitchen. Three prescription bottles on the marble island had her name on them. I opened and closed each with the prescribed dose. I opened a pine cabinet and grabbed a glass. I closed it and went to the stainless steel fridge. I pressed the cup, and the water chilled to frost the glass.

I looked at her and remembered everything I’d been through this year. Death seemed better than living until God brought Bailey into my life. I kept asking if he’d made a mistake because I’d never had gifts to open on Christmas as a kid.

I climbed the stairs to the attic. I lifted and lowered boxes for lights and ornaments. I moved my hand across the box to look at the label and returned to the living room. Christmas rock played on the stereo, waving the season greetings through the Seattle December. I unraveled like the lights I wrapped around the tree.

Bailey stood, holding a white stick in her hands, and her tears washed her dry eyes, spreading across her cheeks.

“What’s that?” I said.

Bailey swallowed hard and handed me the news. “You’re…” My lips trembled, and my knees weakened. “Pregnant?”

Bailey played with her hands and nodded. “Yes.”

I embraced her. “A family,” I said.

“It’s what we’ve always wanted,” Bailey said. “The source of my depression was you leaving me because I couldn’t get pregnant.” She reached to move her fingers through her hair.

“I’d never leave you,” I said, my voice cracking.

By Andy Cooper

From: United States

Twitter: AC0040