Fluke (19 page)

Late!
 
I thought suddenly.
 
My hand slipped and shoved the rough facial cleanser into my eye.

"Fuck!" I breathed, scurrying to turn the water on, and rescue my pained eye.
 
It was so typical.
 
I couldn't even wash my face without rubbing the cornea off of my damned eye. The damn Fluke Factor.

I finished up, and dabbed my face dry with the towel hanging over the porcelain god I had worshipped just a couple of short hours before.
 
I found myself briefly amazed again at how clean it was.

I walked back into the bedroom, and dropped down onto the bed next to Sara.
 
She was lying on her side with one arm beneath her face and the other in front of her.
 
 
She was beautiful. I wonder if our baby would be that beautiful?

Or would it have two heads?

I shook my head and reached over and took Sara's hand.
 
I had always wondered if I was a man.
 
Not a man in the sense that I had male sex organs, but instead a man as defined by the way I lived and whether I lived in accordance with my beliefs.
 
I never really knew whether I was succeeding even though I thought about it now and again.
 
Try to be a man now, Adam.
 
I told myself.
 

"I think I’m ready to talk now, Sara."

"Are you sure?" she eyed me with those green eyes, and I could see the intelligence in them, searching my own, measuring me up.

"Yeah," I said.
 
I found myself with about a million different thoughts in my head at that moment, and I felt like running scared, running to another place and time.
 
Some people were fighters.
 
They had the strength and courage to push through nearly anything life could throw at them.
 
I had always had tendencies to avoid the tough situations.
 
I put that part of me aside and went on, "So…you're late?"

“A little,” she said.
 
I knew in my head that this should be an uncomfortable situation, but I felt relaxed, and Sara stared right at me
coolly.
 
The upturned corners of her mouth gave the appearance of a small smile, and her green eyes were sharp and focused, as always.

"How late is that?" I asked her.
 
How many times have I seen this situation in movies or in sitcoms?
 
What does the guy always do?
 
I couldn't remember that part.

"That’s about three weeks late," she said.

"Three weeks?
 
Oh," I replied.
 
"Well, that isn't all that late." Typical male, Fluke.
 
That's the answer she didn't want.

"No, for some women it isn't.
 
For some women irregular is regular.
 
But…" she paused and looked at me.
 
I couldn't tell what she was thinking at that moment, but she continued.
 
“But I’ve been… well,
doing this
for twelve years, and I'm always right on time.
 
”
 
She smiled—a small smile—and shrugged her shoulders.
 
"Didn't mean to make you sick with the news.”

"
Ohhh
, no, that isn't it.
 
I mean, I didn't get sick because…because you're, um, late,” I watched her.
 
She continued to lay on her arm, her hair spread all around her.
 
She was beautiful.
 
And probably pregnant.
 
I still couldn't remember what the guys in this situation, in all the movies, did.

"I love you, Adam," she said to me, lifting her head up, and staring intently at me.
 

"I love you too, Sara."
 
I pushed away all the thoughts and decided just to love this woman.
 
This woman, better than any other, who loved me.
 
Push them away.

I moved closer to Sara and hugged her.
 
I hugged her and told myself that everything was good.
 
Everything was okay.
 
This was real life, not a fairy tale.
 
There was nothing disgusting going on here, and the Wicked Witch of the East wasn't going to pay us a visit any time soon.

I pulled her as close to me as she would get and hugged even tighter.
 
Maybe too tight, but I just didn't care.

"Thank you, Adam," she whispered in my ear.
 
Our faces brushed together, and I realized that she was crying.
 
I was physically unable to say anything, a problem I hadn’t had since the first weeks we knew each other.
 
I thought back to that first night we were together, and how I was unable to speak to her outside of her place.
 
Our place, now.

"Oh, Adam.
 
We might be having a baby.
 
And I know that maybe you aren't ready for that.
 
I don't know if I am.
 
There’s so much that I’m feeling inside..." She spoke first, just like that first night, saving me when I was witless.
 
Will I always find myself thankful, and satisfied for her ability to carry my weight in addition to her own with us during uncomfortable moments?
 
She sniffled, and I felt fresh tears touch my cheek.

"
Shhhh
, Sara, don't talk right now." I told her, trying to be strong for once in my life, "We'll talk about it soon."
 
I pulled her close to me again.
 
"Right now, let's just lay here.
 
I love you."

"I love you, Adam."

I lay awake holding her as she drifted off to sleep.
 
I held her, yet, my mind still itched with feelings that I didn't want there.
 
I sniffed lightly at her hair, cautious not to wake her.
 
I tried imagining how she felt and thought that maybe we were both feeling many of the same feelings about a lot of things.
 
Her eyelids began to flutter in her sleep; I had never watched that happen with anyone before.
 
I really hadn't been this close to anyone.

Maybe closer than I really wanted to know.

10.

I woke up early…one of those uncharacteristic 6 a.m. mornings that I see only a few times a year.
 
I looked again at the clock, and at Sara.
 
She was sound asleep, and I sat listening to her breathing for some time before I quietly removed myself from the bed and made my way to the shower.
 
I hadn't showered after yesterday's events.
 
While the toxic explosion from my innards had left me visibly unscathed, I felt filthy from it all.
 

I climbed into our tub and jammed the water as hot as it would go without tearing the flesh off of me.
 
I felt pretty relaxed, all things considered.
 
There’s
gonna
be a new Fluke in your life, Fluke.
 
Maybe this one will come out 9lbs, and 6oz, nine months from now.

"Nine months minus three weeks," I answered myself aloud.
 
I could hardly take care of myself, I was constantly riding an emotional roller coaster, and now I was possibly going to father a child in the midst of this strange brew.

I put my forehead to the wall and let the hot water rush over me.
 
I thought again about the picture and the theory about everyone having a double, and this time it clicked right with me.
 
The odds had to be strongly in favor of the man in that photo just bearing a resemblance to me as opposed to being my actual father, right?
 
If I dropped a quarter into a newspaper machine in Florida, I wouldn't expect to come across that same piece of copper and silver in Texas.
 
Especially not thirty years later.
 
No way.
 
I thought about it more and more, and I became convinced that it was virtually impossible for something of that nature to have happened.
 
He probably was her mother's high school sweetheart.
 
They probably never even left Texas.

I whistled quietly as I finished up my shower.
 
Towel to the head, towel to the body, good to go.
 
I kept whistling, as I made my way to the extra bedroom to weed through some clothes that still remained there.
 
I tossed on some old jeans and a button-up.
 

No way, brother.
 

I tossed on my sandals, and stepped out onto the patio for a little morning sun, and a little morning smoke.
 
Nothing like the morning sun.
 
I watched it as it sat just barely above the horizon, a huge, burning orange-yellow ball of promise.
 
Before I met Sara, I frequently watched the sun rising with a sense of dread, knowing that another day had started, and I would have to work through it, navigating the twists and turns that life dropped in front of me.
 
My only goal in those days was to simply make it through, some days fighting my way to the finish line and other days stumbling across it.
 
Since Sara, however, things had changed.
 
I looked forward to each new day, making it another chance to become closer to the woman I loved, the woman who encouraged me to try and get life going forward.

You're
gonna
be a daddy, Fluke
.
 
I felt the butterflies as I thought this.
 
I realized that Sara was going to need me in a big way.
 
Bigger than I had ever been needed before.
 
I began to ponder how our next conversation should go, what I should say.
 
I glanced at the Civic, and decided that first we had to get some kind of answer to whether or not we were having a baby.
 
Maybe, this really was the first time in 12 years that Sara was late. I decided to make a trip over to the neighborhood store and grab one of those home pregnancy tests.
 
That would be a start.

And, after
that
issue was settled, then we could talk about the other.

I tiptoed through the house and picked up my keys and wallet.
 
I took a peek at Sara only to see her still sound asleep.
 
I made my way back out, locking up behind me, and jumped into my car.

****

I was in
Gerland's
grocery, aisle 7, eyeballing the pregnancy tests.
 
I couldn't fight the feeling of embarrassment as I read the different boxes.
 
It was the same feeling I got when I bought condoms.
 
Of course, if I had gone through the embarrassment of buying condoms, I probably wouldn’t have been standing there, paranoid that someone I knew would find me.
 
Find out that
ol
’ Fluke might have knocked up someone, the dirty boy.
 
I imagined Heather tapping me on the shoulder the same way she had at the carnival that night.

"So, Fluke, you were fucking her, is that it?" she might say.

"
Ummm
…well…" I’d stammer, with my standard inability to properly respond.

"Now, I understand what you were
working
on.
 
Don't I?" she might continue, gaining momentum, getting louder.

"Well, yeah, I guess so," would be my lame, mumbled response.

I read through the description on the box that I had in my hands again.
 
Plus sign, you're pregnant. Minus sign, you're not.
 
It sounded easy enough.