Chapter 7 Dove
DOVE
I’m standing in line, waiting to board the flight to take me to the War-Med Conference. I hate airports. The air is stagnant and stale. It smells weird from all the thousands of people passing through. And it’s hot. So hot.
I use my boarding pass as a fan, needing some type of breeze even if it is recycling the air that’s causing my stomach to turn slightly from the aroma.
A light sheen of sweat beads across my top lip and lower back.
My shirt is sticking to my back, and I have no doubt that people can see a wet spot forming on my clothing from how warm I am.
All I want to do is take a cool shower, crawl in bed with no clothes, turn the fan on high, and just lie there. Naked.
Oh my god, that sounds so nice.
“Are you sure you can fly?”
A stranger’s voice floats from behind me. I don’t turn around. There’s no way anyone has the audacity to ask someone that seriously. Perhaps his wife isn’t feeling well. That would be understandable.
A tap of a finger on my shoulder has my entire body tensing. I turn my chin to my shoulder, waiting to hear what he has to say.
“Yes?” The word is curter than I mean for it to be. I can’t help it. I’m so damn irritable right now.
“Are you sure you’re cleared to fly?” the stranger asks me.
“Excuse me?” I stop fanning my face with my boarding pass, needing this line to move quicker than it is.
I need to sit down. I know this stranger, Hanson, and my doctor are most likely right.
I shouldn’t travel, but five thousand dollars is on the line.
That’s clothes, diapers, formula, and everything else I might need. It will keep me afloat.
I have to do this.
Dr. Leighton approved it only because I was just below the cut-off for travel, which surprised me, but she warned me that I needed to be careful.
Guilt twists into my stomach. Hanson was right. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so proud. Maybe I should have asked him for five thousand dollars instead. I could be home right now enjoying the nursery he put together for me and watching bad TV with my best friend.
“Are you safe to travel? I don’t mean to insert myself in your business.”
Right.
“But you seem very close to your due date and—”
“I appreciate your concern, but I got approval from my doctor. I have it right here.” I lift it into the air with my passport.
“I’m fine. Thank you for your concern, though.
I’m wondering if maybe I should have stayed home.
My feet are killing me.” I chuckle, hoping to lighten the mood and concern written on this guy’s face.
He’s still skeptical, given the way his brows are furrowed together. “If you’re sure. If you need anything, let me know.”
I give him a small, appreciative smile then turn around when the line finally begins to move. I hook the strap of my tote up my shoulder, taking a few more steps until the airline employee can scan my boarding pass.
“My goodness. You seem close to your due date.” She grins with so much excitement, her cheeks turn a bit rosy.
I pat my stomach with a long, tired exhale. “I still have another month. Can you believe that?”
“Oh gosh, it will be here before you know it!” Her tone is joyful, and for the first time in a few days, a genuine smile crosses my face. “Have a great flight. If you need anything, dear, just ask a flight attendant and they’ll help you.”
“Thank you so much.” I begin walking down the jetway—well, waddling is a more appropriate word.
“Ughhh,” I groan, pressing my hand against my lower back to give me a little support. “I’m so quitting after this. I’ll figure it out,” I say to no one other than myself.
Ever since my fight with Hanson, I’ve had too many realizations about myself that I need to change.
I have such a supportive family, which a lot of people don’t have.
They’ve voiced their excitement and are always sending gifts, always offering me help, and yet I never accept it.
I have it in my head that I have to do this alone.
A lot of self-reflection happened after Hanson and I fought the other night.
I’m so damn proud—and not in a good way.
I’ve been so set on raising this child alone because this baby is my responsibility.
That I would never shy away from. A message from my mom made me stop and think about the kind of future I want, not only for myself but for my child.
It takes more than one person to raise a baby.
I’m not talking about a partner, which yes, partners are amazing.
I love your father, and he was the best dad and still is to you and your brother.
And even with him by my side, working together as a team, we still needed help, Dove.
We always leaned on your grandparents, friends, the daycare, and not that I like to admit it, but a stranger would watch you if we were in public and I needed to use the restroom.
Doing this alone will only leave you bitter, exhausted, and lonely.
You don’t deserve that, sweetie. Please, you don’t have to do this alone.
Stop pushing everyone away or you will find yourself alone, then question how you got there.
“Miss?”
The flight attendant snaps me out of my thoughts and a fresh wave of embarrassment rolls over me. “I am so sorry. I got caught up in my thoughts.” I step onto the plane, just waiting for it to tilt in my direction since I look and feel so huge.
I can’t be the only pregnant woman who has those kinds of thoughts, right? It’s ridiculous considering the weight capacity of an airplane. My intrusive daydreams have really gotten worse since I’ve been pregnant. The embarrassment would be catastrophic if something like that were to happen.
Keeping my head tilted to my chest, I walk down the slender aisle to find my seat, passing the first-class members. My boss isn’t on this flight. I made sure of that, or I’d never get any rest. I wanted a peaceful flight without him bothering me every two minutes.
The airplane is cooler than the airport, which allows me to breathe a sigh of relief. The seats are dark blue with nice head cushions and there seems to be ample space for me to stretch my legs. Glancing down at my boarding pass, I double-check the seat number.
Row 18B.
A middle seat.
Why would I do that to myself?
My tote hits an older woman in the shoulder, and she sharply turns to me, frowning her wrinkled face.
“I’m so sorry. Sorry. Sorry,” I mouth to her as I keep walking.
I finally reach my seat. There’s a man sitting in the aisle seat and another by the window. Of course, they are tall, a bit older, but in decent shape. Their frames span into the middle seat which gives me no room.
“Hi,” I softly greet them. “That’s me.” I point the middle seat and the older gentleman in the aisle seat unbuckles his seat belt and stands.
He twists his gray handlebar mustache, stretching both his arms to illuminate the entryway for me. “Welcome to the best row on the plane, little lady,” he says with a thick southern accent.
“Thank you so much.” I sit down, drop my tote, and kick it under the seat since I can’t bend over. “Oh my god, it feels good to sit.”
“I bet it does.” The man next to the window pauses reading his book. “I can’t believe you have the energy to be here. When are you due?” His glasses slip down the bridge of his nose, perching on the tip.
“In about a month, give or take a week or two.”
“My goodness. If I were your husband, there’s no way I’d have you travel.” Handlebar mustache clicks his seat belt. “I’d take your place to go to this conference. You should be home, resting in bed.”
“Well, it’s just me. I don’t mind. I have to do what’s best for me and my baby, right?”
“Your man left you? In your condition? Why, I can’t believe that.
You’re so pretty, and from what I can gather, a tough cookie.
He’s an idiot. You and your little one will be just fine without him.
If he can’t support you, then he has no reason to be in your life.
” Mustache grunts, his cheeks blazing red with anger.
I don’t even know this man, and he’s upset for me. It’s sweet.
“It’s okay. Really. It isn’t like that at all.
Honestly, I’ve been trying to locate the father to tell him about the baby, but not everything is as easy as it sounds.
I found him, actually.” I don’t know why I’m allowing the truth to slip out so easily.
Maybe it’s because having an unbiased ear for me to vent to is what I need and these two men seem kind enough to give me some advice.
“Actually, I did find him and come to find out, he’s been looking for me too. All I have to do is message him.”
“Well—” The man to my left by the window gestures his hand in a circle for me to keep spilling my drama. “Why haven’t you? If he’s looking for you and you’re looking for him, it sounds perfect.”
With both hands, I rub my belly, love warming my soul when I feel the baby kick.
“I’m scared. He’s looking for the girl he met and I’m not her, you know?
I was on vacation. I wanted to be bold and daring.
And he didn’t sign up for a baby. He’s a successful doctor and I’m just an assistant to some asshole who’s going to work me until I have this baby at my desk. We couldn’t be more different.”
The man who has a deep southern accent pats the top of my hand with his wrinkled, tanned, tattooed one.
I think he might be a biker, especially with the leather cut he’s wearing.
“You never know until you try. If he ends up being an asshole, you just come to me, little lady. I’ll take care of you and your little one. So will the rest of my men.”
He’s definitely a biker.
“Here’s my card.” He dips into his pocket and pulls out a matte-black card that says, Call for Guardians MC with a phone number listed underneath. “We protect women and children, get them to safety, or even just help new parents who find themselves in a situation like you.”