auren’s life changed little over the last year. She went to work every day and paid what bills she could. She continued to have a drink or two each night and Michael continued to spend money that they did not have. On a good day, they would laugh over dinner and make love before going to sleep, on a bad day they would eat in silence and then go their separate directions for the night.

In many ways, she did not think that her life was that different from other brides her age once the honeymoon was over and reality had began to seep in. Lauren assumed that this was how marriage was supposed to be. If she wasn’t always happy, that was okay. Was there anyone that was always happy?

For the most part, Lauren couldn’t complain, except on Friday and Saturday nights. If she were unfortunate enough to be off work, Michael would insist that the two of them go to a particular bar. There, Michael and his friends would participate in Karaoke competitions in which most of the participants couldn’t carry a tune with a bucket. Lauren wasn’t sure what glory the group got out of this absurd tradition, but they all took it to an extreme of comical proportions.

“I finally nailed that note at the end, did you all hear?”

Yes…And dogs all over the world are howling your praises as we speak…

“I think I’ll do some Elvis, what do you all think?”

I think I hear a dead rock god spinning in his grave…

“I want to do something new. Maybe I’ll try some Aerosmith.”

You say that every week and still end up yodeling your way through the same old shit as last week…

“Having a good time honey?” Michael would ask almost as an after thought as he scanned the available song list.

“Oh yes.” Lauren replied while thinking that whoever invented this torture should have their tonsils removed by blind epileptics. What was it about a microphone and an audience that made untalented people want to make asses out of themselves? Worse still was the sick fascination that those with talent had for watching this mutilation of music by the inept. They almost took a perverted pleasure in it.

Lauren knew that she would never be a part of Michael’s group of friends. Most of them viewed her as an intruder. It was like high school all over again and Lauren fell back on the only defenses that she had. Her good looks and trim body. As long as she got one compliment each night on her appearance in her daring attire, she could tolerate the halfhearted smiles of Michael’s idiotic friends.

“Do you have to dress like that?” Michael would ask her on their way out the door for the night. “You look like a slut.”

She would ignore his last comment, “I thought you’d want me to look nice.”

“Everyone will laugh at you.”

No…. Everyone will laugh at you for wasting your time playing with the boys when you could be home playing with me…

Michael would forget about Lauren and whatever it was that she was wearing once the two were inside and seated at the table that Michael’s crowd had claimed. Other men might look over at her, but Michael paid no attention to her once the music began. He would sit with his arm around her, propping it up on the back of her chair for comfort rather than to be near her, and lose himself in debates on this or that song until it was time to leave.

It got to the point where Lauren hated to even have the radio playing in her car. Michael had ruined her appreciation of music between the frequent Karaoke escapades and the new band that he and some of his friends had started. Michael now spent most of his nights through the week rehearsing at some unknown location for performances that never seemed to happen. Lauren passed her nights alone watching reruns on television, painting her toenails, and writing letters to Jessica at odd times when she had nothing better to do or she was waiting for her polish to dry.

That summer Lauren began to refuse to go to the Karaoke contests with Michael. She tried to explain to him that if she wanted to be around drunks all night that she would stay at work. This statement sent Michael into a fit of pouting that lasted the better part of a month. His antics were lost on Lauren since she had grown accustomed to his absence, she didn’t find his sulking silence that much different.

Lauren lost herself, as many people do, in the mundane duties of everyday life. She filled her hours with errands and housework. She tried her best to be happy in spite of the circumstances and told herself that this is what became of all romances that terminated in marriage. Spouses stopped trying to impress their partners and they spent the rest of their lives just trying not to get on each other’s nerves.

How anyone gets pregnant after their first anniversary is beyond me…

Lauren’s own period was late that October. It took a few days for her to notice, as she was relieved to not have to deal with the cramps and the mess. Michael always chose the week of her period to do things that he might not have had the courage to do any other week out of the month since he could blame her temper on PMS. Because of this, Lauren dreaded her period each month. Not just for the inconvenience, but also for the things that Michael would do.

She didn’t want to think about how Michael would react. He would always mumble something about wanting to focus on his career anytime that she mentioned a baby. Now she wouldn’t just be mentioning it in passing, it was a very real possibility that he couldn’t hide from.

Well, I wonder how long he will pout over this one…

 

nce she realized it was late, Lauren began going into the restroom and checking her underwear with neurotic frequency. She was convinced that she was not pregnant, that this was a false alarm, and even conjured up PMS symptoms from everyday aches and pains. She told herself that her breasts were tender because her period was going to start any day now and she wouldn’t let herself believe anything different.

It seemed that everywhere Lauren went she was surrounded by pregnant women or mothers with screaming infants in their arms. Where did they all come from? This was not a time that she needed to be encircled by women swollen to freakish size or howling red-faced babies. Did her biological clock ring the estrogen bell?

“How late are you?” Jessica asked over the phone one night without a greeting of any kind. Wherever she was calling from was loud with strange voices and music in a deafening volume.

Even though home alone; Lauren looked over her shoulder for Michael. She hadn’t mentioned the possibility to him and did not want to worry him until she knew for sure. “Just about a week.”

“Any morning sickness?”

“Morning hell,” Lauren complained. “More like all day sickness and my pelvis is kind of sore.”

“So, what are you going to do?”

“What do you mean?” Lauren asked.

Jessica spoke low in the receiver, “Are you going to have it?”

“Of course!”

“Does Michael know yet?” She asked.

Lauren began chewing her nails, biting the cuticles until they bled. “Not yet.”

“You know that a baby will keep you tied to Michael for the rest of your life.”

“So?” Lauren asked. She was annoyed that Jessica was voicing the same thought that kept going through her own mind. “Would that be such a bad thing?”

“Only if you’re not happy.” Jessica replied. She ended the conversation by promising to check on Lauren in a few days. “Maybe you’re not pregnant. Maybe you’ve just got your dates mixed up.”

Lauren tried not to think about it, but after another week, she had to admit to herself that she was pregnant. She stood in line at the drug store, behind a woman who was expecting twins in February, to purchase a home pregnancy test. Lauren didn’t meet the clerk’s eyes. She felt like everyone in the store was staring at her and thinking of what a stupid girl she was and how she should have known better.

Once home, Lauren shut herself away in the bathroom and conducted the test. Her hands shaking to the point she almost urinated on herself rather than the test strip. She was still waiting for the time to elapse when Michael knocked on the door once and then walked in. She tried uselessly to hide the evidence with her hands, but he looked down onto the counter just as the two pink lines appeared on the test stick. Neither of them said anything, instead, they leaned back against their separate walls and withdrew into their own thoughts.

Lauren stared across the narrow bathroom, focusing on the outdated tub with its clawed feet and the chipped ceramic tile underneath. It crossed her mind that Michael had promised to replace the bathroom floor when they first moved in over a year ago. She preferred to look at the broken floor than at Michael. She had caught a glimpse of his worried eyes and pouting face, and that glimpse was enough.

I feel like a kid getting caught with her hand in the cookie jar…Why do I feel so guilty…Other married women have babies everyday…I’m supposed to want this aren’t I…

The faucet dripped water from its green goo covered tip in the silence, each drop of water echoing against the green tiled walls. Lauren reached forward and tried to turn the handle to shut the water off, but the drip continued. She twisted again until the handle with its little black “C” came off in her hand. Lauren looked down at the knob in her hand, then at the still dripping spigot, and then she bowed her head and began to cry.

Michael offered no words of comfort. Lauren watched his reflection in the mirror as he took a deep breath, stuffed his hands into the pockets of his blue jeans, and sighed. He looked up at the ceiling for a few moments before he spoke to her.

“Well,” He began as he stared up at the plaster swirls above him. “Maybe it won’t be that bad.”

Not that bad…What happened to congratulations…What happened to I love you…What happened to being happy I’m having your baby…Maybe it won’t be that bad…

 

[END]

© 2004 Dana Michelle Burnett - Contributor's Bio