Say you love me

Part 21

She was gone.
Without her, John felt almost dead. He walked and ate and talked and lived like a zombie. Nothing was right, nothing was good. He knew how badly Chris wanted a child, and he wanted to give her one someday, just not today.
John had no problem with children, but Chris and him were struggling artists with bills to pay and gigs to play. There was no room for kids right now, unless they could play a tambourine. Rhythm was always welcome.

Now he was alone, sitting in the hotel room, having not moved since Chris stormed out in the rain. God, if you make her come back I swear we'll have a dozen kids, John thought. He took another sip of whiskey, wincing as it burned his throat. Good. He deserved it for being such an asshole earlier, he had made Christine cry, something he swore he would never do.

The knock at the door made him jump, as it was the only noise in the otherwise silent room. He got up, opened the door. Mick was standing outside, his arms folded across his chest.

"Hey, man," he said. "Can we talk?" John stepped aside to let him come inside. The thunder outside boomed as loud as a bass drum. It had been raining for 2 days now. Mick went directly to the small table in the middle of the room and sat down, looking serious. He was quiet for a moment before he said, "You're a serious fucking asshole, John."

"I know."
"She wants the baby, you know that, you've always known it."
"I know."
"Is that all you're going to fucking say?" Mick said irritatingly. John grimly nodded. "What else can I say, Mick? I can't say anything, I don't deserve to say anything. I've broken my wife's heart and just living with that for the rest of my life is enough to dig my grave." Mick stared at John.
"If Jenny ever got pregnant, I'd stand by her. Peter would stand by his girl, and so would Jeremy. So would the guys in Chicken Shack. But you?" Mick shook his head mockingly. "You tell yours to have an abortion. Some women wouldn't have a problem, but Christine loves kids. She told us everything," he said when he saw John's questioning look. Christine normally kept to herself, so there was no way Mick would know that unless she told him. "Mick, you don't understand, I can't be a father, I can't."

"It doesn't matter if you're ready or not, John! That sort of bullshit doesn't come with a fucking manuel! You learn, you adapt."
Boom boom. The thunder roared louder, the rain fell harder. It was like God himself was trying to tell John what to do.
As the lightening flashed like a camera and the rain poured like hail, John knew what he had to do.

He just hoped Christine would forgive him enough to listen.
************************************

Being home was bittersweet for Chris. She loved her childhood home, but the reason she was there was like a snake, waiting to strike and attack at any moment. Amazingly, she hadn't told her parents she was pregnant. She only said that she and John had had a fight and she didn't want to see him for a while. She knew she'd have to find some way to explain soon, as the evidence would pop up (literally) any day.

"Chrissydoll, darling, are you sure you don't want to go to the beach with us? It's such a nice day." Beatrice asked. She was already wearing her sunhat even though she was still inside.
"No, Mum, I'm fine. I think I might just stay here and relax for a bit." Chris sat at the table nursing a cup of tea that she wasn't even drinking. Her nausea was especially bad today, so thankfully Beatrice couldn't cajole Chris to get out of the house like she usually did.

Beatrice and Cyril left, locking the door and yelling when they'd be back as if Chris cared. She got up from the table and went by the window, tracing her hand across the glass and staring at the garden in the backyard.

It was a gorgeous garden. Beatrice loved flowers and prided herself on having a nice backyard. There were bushes of irises, dandelions, bleeding hearts, Queen Anne's lace. Two birdbaths stood proudly filled with water, waiting for birds to come and drink. A bench was by the irises, a spot that offered cool shade. It was a nice place to sit and drink lemonade, a place found in a fairytale.

Sigh. Soon Chris would have to find her own little place, somewhere safe and near a good school. Moving wasn't the problem, having a child by yourself was. It'd just be her and the baby, and soon the baby would grow up. They'd start asking questions about where their father was, questions Christine would have no idea how to answer correctly. One wrong slip and the child would think they were unwanted, a mistake. Sigh. Just imagining it stressed her out.

Knock knock knock. Someone was at the door. Chris pulled away from the window, thinking it was old Mrs. Kramer wanting to borrow more goddamn sugar. She was a sweet old lady but damn, didn't she ever go buy her own fucking sugar?

What the fuck. John was standing outside the door, looking rumpled and exhausted. He stood awkwardly, his hands in his pockets. Chris stared at him, her arms folded across her chest.
"You've got alot of fucking nerve coming here." She glared. John pulled his hands out of his pockets and held them out desperately. "Christine, please, I just want to talk--"
"I'm not having a fucking abortion, John!"
"Can I please just come in? I promise I'll stay for five minutes, then you'll never have to see me again." Chris considered this, then opened the door wider. "Fine. Come in, we'll talk in the garden."

They went into the garden and sat on the bench, the irises sweet scents coming to them in waves. John was nervous, he had rehearsed his words a million times on the flight here, but now he was scrambling for words. Chris only glared at him, shooting daggers from her eyes.
"Christine I'm sorry. What I said to you was unforgivable, and I didn't mean any of it." Chris's face contorted, she looked like she swallowed a lemon.
"Don't tell me that bullshit, John. Don't stay with me because you feel you have to--"
"I don't feel like I have to, Christine. I want to, I truly do." John looked Chris in the eyes. "I want the baby. I want to raise it with you and watch it grow into a person. I want a life with you and our child, we don't need music. I'll quit right now if that's what makes you happy."

Chris smiled so brightly, she was unrecognizable from the sunflowers by the back door. "You really mean that?" John nodded in response.
Chris stood up, trying to hold back her tears.
"Well, I guess we're having a baby."