2. Patience Fox
Patience Fox
Present Day
This is my third time throwing up some seafood. What kind of demon baby doesn’t like seafood? Well, I guess, considering who my dumb ass let knock me up, it makes sense. I’m incubating the spawn of Satan himself.
Okay, let me stop talking about my baby like that.
But ugh, I can’t believe my baby, the one I’ve wanted since I was old enough to have children, shares DNA with an unserious, stupid, ugly asshole.
Okay, he’s not ugly. Or stupid. But he is unserious and an asshole.
After a few more heaves, all my rasta pasta is now in the toilet and out of my belly, and I can flush.
When I finally get vertical and look in the mirror, I want to burst into tears.
My normally hydrated skin is washed out and dry.
My hair’s in a haphazard bun, eyebrows not done.
And not being able to keep anything down is making me lose weight instead of gain.
I can’t even blame my little nugget on everything, though. No, my life’s been on the road to Hell way before that.
I wash my hands and mouth out before grabbing the paper and exiting the single stall bathroom.
The quietness of the bathroom is gone, and the pit is in its usual chaotic glory, but I can’t stick around.
Apparently, my demon baby hates seafood and blood, so instead of working until I can’t anymore, I have to put in for maternity leave early.
How can I be an emergency room physician and blow chunks every time I see a drop of blood?
The chief of medicine and my mentor, Dr. Enoch, is understanding and even has tissues for me when I burst into tears yet again when he assures me I’ll still have my position no matter how long it takes to come back.
He’s the entire reason I moved back here after med school.
Learning under him for my residency has been nothing less than a dream, and I even get invited to family holidays eleven years later.
I stop by my practice and have my office manager draft an email and start redirecting my patients for the time being. They’ve all seen me throw up, or have throw up on me these past few weeks, so they understand, too, which makes me cry more. I don’t even know where all this water is coming from.
It’s early afternoon by the time I’m home, showered, and stuffing my face with grilled chicken. I don’t have to get my bonus son Deuce until later, so I’m only in a bralette and girl boxers, sitting cross-legged on the California king bed I share with the light of my life, my girlfriend Autumn.
My phone vibrates against my thigh, and when I see the white heart emoji and one of those nerdy pictures we took on my birthday of her holding my legs like I’m a wheelbarrow, my lips spread into a smile like they always do.
Until I remember everything. And the smile drops.
Sighing, I put my plate down, grab my phone, and answer.
My girlfriend is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.
Inside and out. No matter what she’s wearing, how her hair is done, it doesn’t matter.
She’s gorgeous, and her energy is infectious.
The sweetest girl you’ll ever meet, until you try her.
I mean, I’ve heard stories of how she used to get down.
The LGBTQ world is small as hell in Kenton, especially South Kenton, so I knew all about how she’d be fighting and carrying on over her bullshit baby daddy.
But with me? I never saw it. There was no reason to.
I didn’t want him, especially since he represented the very reason I left here and swore off men in the first place.
And because I never want her to be anything but the beautiful lady she is, I’m gentle with her, faithful–that’s a given, and spoil her and Deuce rotten.
Maybe because I have more masculine energy, even if I’m femme presenting.
Maybe because I’m older by seven years, and marvel at how innocent she still can be, and want to protect it at all costs.
She’s my woman, and I’d do anything for her.
Including be a fucking fool.
“Hey, you. What are you doing home?”
I mute the tv to give her my full attention.
“I’m taking a leave of absence. The sight of blood was making me vomit.
” I hate that I sound so weak, especially to her.
She’d been telling me since before she left on her last clinical rotation to do this, but I was being stubborn, and didn’t want her to be right.
Her eyebrows pinch as she sits up in her bed. “Aw, baby. I’m sorry. Do you wanna come up here for a few days? Nut can drive you.”
“No,” I sigh. “I’ll be fine here. You need to focus so you can come home. Your demon baby is zapping all my energy and I need to be babied.”
She scowls at me and it just makes her even more breathtaking.
Her hair’s long, black, and curly, and while it’s usually braided and under a wig, it’s free now in a dark shadow behind her head and shoulders.
Her hazel eyes flash with fury and she looks like a pissed off cat.
“Do not call my lil nugget a demon baby!”
“Fine, half demon,” I chortle. I realize all too soon that was the wrong thing to say, and tension mounts even though we’re on a facetime call and not in front of each other.
“Pay–”
“No. Do not piss me off today, Auty. I’m liable to cry and cut up all the clothes you left here.”
She’s been trying to “get me to see reason” for weeks regarding how I’m choosing to navigate this pregnancy.
She swears my judgment is clouded by my intense feelings of hatred, but I can honestly say the same about her, just swap out hatred for undying love.
As the days go on, I find myself feeling like I don’t know her at all, and unfortunately, this isn’t the first time I’ve taken off the rose-colored glasses and stared into the eyes of someone I was in love with, and saw something I wish I could un-know.
But that’s not how the world works. We’ve both said and done things we can’t ever take back. And now, I have to act accordingly.
“Not the Donna Karan!” she gasps in mock horror, and I'm barely able to contain my giggle.
“It’s your world, baby. Your body, and your choice. I support you no matter what, I just don’t want you to have any regrets. You’re empathetic like that, even with people you hate.”
Ugh, why does she know me? Part of what keeps me up at night is the gnawing feeling that I’m being unfair. After all, it’s my own fault I’m in this mess; thirty-five, pregnant with a half-demon baby. Why should I take out my frustrations on anyone else? Still, I can’t admit defeat just yet.
“And you’re not?”
“Nope.” She pops the p sound like she’s a toddler. “I be in my own bubble, always. Don’t even know what people be going through to feel for them. That’s why you keep me balanced, my love.”
She’s laying it on thick to change my mind, but I won’t budge for her. I’ve bent to her will too damn much during our four-year relationship. This, though, will be on my time.
“I gotta go, though. I’ll call Deucey before he goes to bed. Want me to send some food your way for later so you can relax?”
I nod, thanking her. “You’re still in the doghouse, Shaw.”
She blows a kiss through the phone. “As long as it’s yours, I don’t care. Love you, Pay.”
“Love you, too.”
I collapse onto the bed, chicken forgotten, after we end the call.
We’ve been on the outs since her birthday in late June.
It’s about to be October now, and to be honest, there’s no end in sight.
There’s no way to get over the hurdles we have, starting with this baby I’d prayed for.
I just can’t believe everything I ran from I was actually running toward, only this time, I’m bonded for life.
I grab one of the decorative pillows and scream into it until I can’t anymore.
I should have just terminated the pregnancy. But I knew then if I did me and Autumn would be over, and the thought of leaving her…
I can’t fathom.
But now I’m forever tied to her, and everything and everyone that comes with her.
Including him. The demon. Who reminds me so much of my own monster it’s uncanny.
But where my monster evokes fear, nostalgia, and a smidge of regret, the demon evokes something far more sinister that I hate to even admit out loud, even as the juncture between my thighs becomes slick with arousal.
And that’s more scary than anything.