26. Claudia
“What if we put the end table against the wall over there?” I asked my sisters pointing to the empty space beside the large Japanese inspired vase that arrived the day before with the postal delivery plane.
“Then it wouldn’t be at the end of something,” Gisele pointed out, “it’s an end table so it has to go at the end of something, like the couch.”
She had me there, but I wasn’t about to agree with her.
“But it will look stupid at the end on the couch, there is a coffee table in front of the couch why does she need another table to put things on?”
“Can you say couch one more time, I don’t think you’ve said it enough,” Elle muttered from the other side of the room, her arms were folded over her stomach in what I would call a protective gesture, because I did it all the time myself, but I don’t think she realised she was doing it.
Since the test came out positive the morning before, she had not mentioned anything about it once. Our big sister was in clam mode and that was that.
“It’s your table Elle, you’re the one who ordered an end table without actually needing an end table,” Gisele argued making me snicker. Talking about nothing important and doing it well was one of Gisele’s many talents.
Growing tired of the subjects and especially Elle’s defensive closed up attitude, I made my move.
“Why don’t we all stop talking end table nonsense and tackle the real problem.” Taking a deep breath, I zeroed in on the elephant in the room, so to speak.
“Elle, whether you accept it or not, you have a life growing inside you. The issue of the father is not the main issue, the fact that you have put you head in the sand like an ostrich is,” I said firmly refusing to let her death glare sway me from having my say.
“What did you expect having sex without protection chickee? Are they not the same words you said to Gisele eight and a half years ago? You are acting like it’s the end of the friggin world, when really what you have there inside you is a blessing in disguise. A reason to really heal from Jake and move forward, with or without the father,” I added the last part for Gisele’s benefit more than Elle’s. I could tell Gissy was not happy about keeping the father out of the picture, but she had to accept that Elle was the only one to make that decision because she was the only person who knew his identity.
Well, his first name at least.
“Give you a purpose after all the chaos and disloyalty you had to endure,” Gisele spoke up, understanding that this was not about her morals but Elle’s acceptance of the pregnancy.
Elle looked between Gisele and I then to the panel of glass doors that led to the backyard where Miracle was playing happily with Optimus. From here we could hear her singing a song that sounded suspiciously like Hollaback Girl, her voice sounding so much better every single day. The croakiness was virtually gone, save for when she was tired after a long day of talking. It was still the best thing to hear, and I for one could not get enough of it.
Shockingly a single tear fell down Elle’s check, just one but it made an impact on me and Gisele.
Pressing her hands to her belly her eyes still focused on Miracle Elle started to open up.
“I never wanted or planned to have a child, not with Jake not with a one-nightstand no matter how hot he was or that he played with my body like a well-tuned instrument.” She cried, literally. Tears were now pouring down her face, the sight was unnerving but also comforting to me. Finally, my sister was showing the emotional side of her she usually kept buried deep rarely showing anyone.
Turning her head, she looked at me and Gisele with watery eyes. “I don’t want to be pregnant,” she admitted quietly, shamefully. “I know that sounds horrible Claudia especially with your happy news, but I don’t have that maternal pull that you and Gissy have. Even when you were sixteen and scared out of your mind, you wanted the baby,” she said to Gisele almost accusingly. “I’m better at being an aunt, I love being an aunt. What I don’t want to be is a mother, the need to pass on my genes has never been a wish for me.” The more she talked the higher the pitch was in Elle’s voice a clear sign she was not coping well. I hated to think it let alone voice it, but we needed our mother.
Before I could say anything, Gisele gasped in horror, not the best reaction but the three of us never hid the important stuff from one another, well not for long anyways.
“Elle Naomi stop right there!” Gisele yelled her face getting red a sure sign we were in for a tirade of some kind. Storming up to our sister, Gisele grabbed her hand and drew her forcefully away from the windows and into the lounge. “Sit!” she ordered reminding me of my husband’s behaviour of late.
“First off you are an amazing aunty to Miracle and will be the same awesomeness with the new baby. Secondly, I don’t like the tone of shame coming out of you. There is no rule that states every woman on the planet has to have the desire to be a mother. You are who you are Elle, and I for one love that person. What you end up deciding is your decision and yours only. What Claudia and I think is completely inconsequential and has no place in the marking of that decision. Got me chickee.” Gisele was not asking that as a question she was telling Elle full stop. To say I was proud of my baby sister was an understatement. Since getting together with Jamison and her daughter finding her voice, there was a calm about Gisele I never seen in her before. It was as if the supposed curse really had lifted from her shoulders allowing her to see life in a different way … a better way.
“Decision?” Elle asked, in shock from Gisele’s wonderfully sensible outburst.
“Yes, you have options Elle, you are in the very early stages. You have some time up your sleeve giving you time to think about those options.”
“You don’t mean—?” Elle broke off before finishing, the light bulb going, understanding dawning what Gisele meant by options. “No! That is not something I would or could ever do,” Elle spat out vehemently, the colour draining from her face from red to whiter than an expensive high thread count Egyptian cotton sheet. “Never!”
“I certainly hope not young lady.” The voice that belonged to the only person who could make a priest turn from God shouted from behind us.
My fault, I must have conjured her up.
All three of us swivelled our heads slowly, our groans echoing one another as we stared at our mother, father and my husband standing in the front entry way. All three wore different expressions at hearing Elle’s news.
Shocked.
Amused.
But the scariest one that made me want to run for my life was … livid.