15. Gabriella
15
Gabriella
July
“ S weetheart, this is exactly what I needed. What we both needed,” Mom states with a sigh. “It’s such a perfect day.”
I peer over at her, stretched out on her back on the lounger beside me. She’s wearing a modest black bikini, showing off her supple body, her hips, and full breasts. She looks more like an older sister than my mother. No wonder Dad can’t keep his hands off her. Mom is banging hot at her age. If I look half as good as she does at this age, well, then I’m doing something right.
“I’m glad you could join me, Mom.”
“Me too, dear. Are you feeling better?”
“Yeah.” I woke up this morning feeling a little…off. Stomach cramps with some nausea. “It was probably just something I ate yesterday at dinner.” I went out with a few classmates to a local spot I’d never been before and most likely mixed the wrong food and drinks together.
“That’s good. There’s nothing like the medicine of the warm Florida sun and ocean.”
Or Motrin and a few Tums, but there is something to her words. The sun feels amazing, and the sound of waves crashing against the shoreline is a lullaby to my ears.
“Sweetheart, I’m worried for you.”
I look at her, confused by her confession and sudden change of topic. “Why?”
“When was the last time you went on a date?” she asks. “What about that Greg boy?”
I snort. “Greg? He’s gay, Mom!”
Mom shrugs like that doesn’t make a difference. “He’s cute.”
Picking up a towel, I toss it at my mom with a laugh. “Should Dad be concerned?”
“Not at all,” Mom answers with a laugh. “Your father and I are very happy. In fact, he bought this swing and—”
“Oh my God, stop. I don’t want to hear any more of that,” I interrupt. Rising from my chair, I grab my cover-up shawl and toss it over my shoulders. “I have to use the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll join you. I’m getting hungry,” Mom says and follows behind me on the wooden path to the backdoor of my house.?
Inside the downstairs bathroom, I finish peeing, but when I pull my hand back, there’s dark blood staining the toilet paper. The sight makes me pause. My period’s not due for another week at least, and I’m as regular as they come. My last period was three weeks…
Wait.?
No, it wasn’t.?
I quickly pull my phone out and open my calendar app. It’s been over a month since my last period. I’m late by at least three weeks and now I’m bleeding. Fuck.?
I need to know for certain. It could be simply stress kept it at bay or it could be something worse. It could mean I’m pregnant and losing the baby.?
“Mom?” My voice sounds small in the small bathroom. “Mom?” This time it’s louder and echoes.?
A few moments later, she’s at the door, knocking. “What is it, sweetheart? Something wrong?”
The words won’t form. I can only say, “Mom.”?
The door opens, and then she’s there.?
“Mom.” My voice breaks and the tears come.
She looks from my one hand holding the bloody toilet paper, to my phone in the other and then finally to my panic-stricken face. In the next heartbeat, she’s on her knees in front of me, wrapping her arms around me.?
“It’s okay,” she soothes into my ear as silent tears fall from my eyes. “It’ll be okay.”
Somehow, it doesn’t feel like it. Somehow, it feels like a bad omen.?
“Ms. DiAngelo,” a woman in a white coat greets me as she enters my room. “Hello, I’m Doctor Lopez.”
“Hi.” I gesture to my mom. “This is my mother.”
“Wonderful to meet you both.”
She’s being too polite. I don’t like polite. It’s used to cover up the unpleasant. “What is it?” I ask, jumping straight to the manner at hand.
Doctor Lopez clears her throat and taps the tablet screen. “Your labs report a level of hCG consistent with pregnancy.”
“But?” There’s a but in there.I can feel it.
“But it’s a value that cannot withstand pregnancy.”
“So I’m having a miscarriage?”
She bows her head. “Yes. I’m terribly sorry, Ms. DiAngelo.”
I nod, my eyes dropping to my lap as my mom reaches out to cover my clasped hands. She squeezes tightly, just hard enough to remind me of her presence and comfort. “How far along was I?”
“No more than a month. It’s what we call a chemical miscarriage. There was nothing you could have done differently.”
I know all of this. I’ve studied about it in heavy detail. I’ve been in her shoes, been the one to give the unfortunate news.?
The fetus doesn’t have a heartbeat capable of even being detected at this point. Which is why it’s called a chemical miscarriage, because pregnancy can only be confirmed by blood tests or a urine sample.?
“What now, Doctor?” Mom asks for her own sake, not mine, because I already know what happens.
“She’ll experience some heavy bleeding for a few days, some cramping but otherwise discomfort as if she’s having her period.”
“Any long-term side effects?”
“No. But if she develops a fever or her bleeding gets worse, she’ll need to come back in.”
“When can I go home?” I ask, interrupting them. I don’t want to hear any more about this. Just sleep. That’s all I want. At least there, I can escape reality.
“We’d like to keep you for a few more hours just to confirm the diagnosis and run one more blood test.”
I nod and then curl up on my side, cradling the warm heating pad to my abdomen where a baby was growing, but no longer is now. Distantly, I can hear the doctor and my mom talking, but it just sounds like loud noise now.?
Eventually, the doctor leaves, closing the door behind her. Mom comes around the bed and sits in the chair pulled close to the bed and takes my hand in hers. “Gabriella, I’m so sorry.”
“I didn’t even know about it. How can I grieve for something I didn’t know was there?”
“It’s okay to grieve what could have been. It’s okay to be sad for the life lost.”
My eyes burn with unwanted tears. I am sad about the baby. I am. I just don’t know how to grieve.?
“If it’s alright, Mom…I’m tired. The pain meds are making me drowsy.”
She pats my hand. I know it must be hard for her to do nothing and be unable to do anything.?
“Is there anyone you’d like me to call?”
A clever way of asking if I’d like to call the father.
Dimitri.?
My heart lurches forward painfully at the thought of him. I wish he could be here with me, hold me, share in the loss and help me grieve, but that’s impossible. Not with my mom here. The realization only makes my heart hurt all the more.
“No,” I admit softly, burying my face in my blanket. “I just want to sleep.”
“Okay, sweetheart.”
A few quiet moments later, she starts to hum a familiar lullaby tune she would sing to me as a child when the storms grew too loud. Her touch on the top of my head is as gentle and comforting as it was back then, lulling me into a deep slumber.
I should have known he would come for me in the night. He always does. Especially after I’ve been ignoring him all day.
“Gabriella?”
I open my eyes to a dark room lit only by a single lamp on my bedside. Its dim light cast shadows across his face as he peers down at me. In his hand, he holds one of my medicine bottles and looks between its label and me.?
“What happened? This date is today.”
I shift in bed and sit up slowly, my back spasming in protest, while I keep one hand on the heating pad still Velcroed around my waist.
His eyes snap to the pad and narrow. “What the fuck happened?”
I snort. His angry outburst isn’t surprising.
“I’m fine, thanks for asking.” I tend to be a little more sarcastic when in pain with a heavy heart and sleep deprived.
“I'm sorry, Gabriella. I’m relieved you’re okay, but please tell me why you need to be fine to begin with.” He sits on the bed and reaches for my hand.?I give it and he squeezes gently.“Gabriella?” Something more than concern laces his tone. Like he’s afraid.
“I was pregnant.” It’s the first time I’ve said it out loud and the words sound so foreign coming from my mouth.
“Was?” he repeats after a long moment.
I nod, unable and unwilling to meet his eyes. “Yes.”
“You…lost it?”
“Yes.”
“A miscarriage?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Today.”
“How far…were you?”
“The doctor says just about a month.”
“And you’re sure it was—”
I snap my head up and level him with a heated glare. “If you’re wondering if it was yours, the answer is yes.”
“That wasn’t what I was going to ask.”
“Yes, it was.”
He sighs hard, like I’ve frustrated or annoyed him. Ass. “Gabriella, I didn’t come here to fight.”
“Then why are you here?”
“You’ve been ignoring me all day.”
“For good reason,” I snap, tossing his hand away from me.
“I know that now,” he bites back before his tone drops. “But I was worried.”
“Well, like I said, I’m fine.”
“You had a miscarriage, angel.”
“Stop calling me that.” I don’t know where this anger is coming from, but I’m mad. Mad at him. Mad at the fucking world. Mad at myself for being so fucking mad.?
“You’re upset.”
“Of course I’m upset, Dimitri! Did you know that the moment I learned what was happening, all I wanted was for you to be there with me? To share in my grief, to hold me and tell me everything would be okay. But you weren’t there.”
“I couldn’t be.”
“Exactly! You couldn’t be because you want to keep whatever this is a fucking secret.”
“Gabriella, your family—”
“Would understand,” I interrupt whatever stupid words were about to come out of his mouth. “They want me to be happy and I’m happy with you, Dimitri.”Sure, my family would be angry at first but they'd get over it.
“Gabriella…”
“Will this ever be more than what we are? Will this ever be more than a secret?”
The pain on his face is answer enough for me, even as he says, “It can’t be.”
“Why not?” I deserve to know the reason he’s denying us both this chance, at least.?
“There are things you don’t know, things you don’t understand.” His voice is strained, like he’s having difficulty speaking the words.?
“Then tell me.”
“I can’t.”
“You can’t? Or you won’t?”
Dimitri sighs and stands from the bed, turning his back on me as he runs his hands through his mussy locks. “Gabriella…”
Defeat settles heavily on my shoulders, draining every ounce of strength I have left. “You should go, Dimitri.”
“Angel…please.”
“You know, maybe losing the baby was a blessing,” I tell him, venom coating my monotone voice and words. “What kind of future would it have had when its father can’t be honest with its mother? I don’t want that for my children. So please…just go. Go before this gets any deeper and harder to climb free from.”
The look on Dimitri’s face as he leaves will forever haunt me.?
Devastation and sorrow.
Pain and grief.
Guilt and shame and…something else.
But it’s only after he leaves that I’m able to put a name to it.
Love.