I glanced out the window. It was early morning. I had convinced Prince to go to bed, and he had done so with only a little bit of protesting. I felt my eyelids drooping and my feet getting tired. I stumbled into the bathroom to see Becky, clean and in her work clothes, already occupying the washroom. She had evidently just taken a bath. Her age really hit me, as I stared at her work clothes that made her a woman. "Sorry, Cind," she said with a smile. She paused on her way out. "Congratulations, by the way. Andy is really handsome. I can tell that he's going to look just like you both."
I smiled as a thanks, not really energetic enough to say anything. If Becky was getting ready for her work day, it must've been about six thirty in the morning.
When I was done in the washroom, I was too tired to change into my nightie, so I just stripped off my dirty maternity clothing and climbed into bed. As I did, Prince's cell phone rang. While he was in bed. Obviously he had been too tired to change as well. He stirred, but turned over, lying on his phone before falling back to sleep. I let my eyes close as well, and sleep came within seconds.
The days went by very quickly with our new baby. Prince and I were always rushing around to make sure Andy was okay. I breast fed him, Prince bottle fed him, and we both played with him. He was still as bald as the day he was born, but I could definitely see features in him that were like those of Prince's and mine. I could see his eyes darkening, and I knew he would have Prince's eye colour. He would probably have my nose, and it looked like my facial structure as well.
Changing diapers was the worst. I hated it. I absolutely detested it. Prince was very willing, surprisingly, but he hated bathing Andy, strangely enough. We were bonding very well with our child, and bonded with each other as well. King adored Andy, and even took time off work once in a while to spend the whole day playing with Andy. He was very good with children, apparently, and he was great with Andy. Andy always stopped crying whenever King rocked him in his arms, and immediately fell asleep when King sang to him.
King had gained a new stride, as I noticed one day when he set off to work. That was another habit we had gotten into. I would sit by the window, feeding Andy in the morning, and I would watch the mailman come and go, and as Becky and King went to work in their cars. Yes, Becky had taken on a job after all, but just as King's personal assistant.
Some things were still the same. I still had to clean the sink, and I still had to make my bed and do the laundry. Becky, Prince, and King helped as well, of course, but the three of them were intensely busy in their own work. Prince had confessed to me that once our son grew up, he wanted to become an author. He had a secret passion for writing.
One thing I had been adamant about was that I would prepare the meals. I trusted my cooking skills and knew what to make while breastfeeding. That was my excuse, of course, that Prince couldn't argue against, but the real reason I wanted to cook was because Prince was only okay at cooking. We ate at the dining table now, as I had learned was proper. One morning, I was finishing up my pancake next to Prince and King (who went on about how particularly good my pancakes were that morning) when I heard the doorbell ring.
"I'll get it," I said. King and Prince grunted in agreement. I rolled my eyes. It was a delivery man, holding a package and papers.
"Hello, ma'am. Special delivery. Local, I think. If you could sign here, I'll be on my way," the man said, handing me the package and holding out the papers.
"We weren't expecting anything," I said, taking the package and peering at the papers.
"Whether you were or not, ya just gotta sign here to prove that it was delivered to you and you received it," he explained, thrusting the papers at me.
I took a pen and signed, thanking him and closing the door before bringing it in. "What is it?" Prince asked when I walked in the kitchen. He was loading the dishwasher.
"I'm not sure," I said, ripping the package open with difficulty. There was a note attached that I looked at before opening the rest of the package. "It says, 'Dear Cinderella and Prince, although I could not attend your wedding and have not visited you and your newborn, I have seen your lovely child. I thought that this might help him grow. It is not an ordinary doll, however it may look. Trust your child and be pleasantly surprised, otherwise you might find yourself with your foot in your mouth. It may not make sense now, but in later years you might thank me for this. Consider it a present for Andy. I send my congratulations for your new family. Love, Fairy Godmother.'"
Prince took the doll out of the package. It looked handmade, but durable. It had a light on the top of its head and a little face. "What does she mean by this?" Prince said, looking amused, examining the doll.
"I'm sure we'll know 'in later years,'" I quoted. "I trust her, anyway. And I'm sure Andy will like it." I took the doll upstairs and placed it in the crib with Andy. I knew of the warnings and dangers of having a toy in a crib with your baby, but I trusted my godmother. I would trust her with my life. I would trust her with my son's.
I returned downstairs to find Becky licking a plate clean. "Becky! What the hell do you think you're doing!" I cried, astonished.
She set the plate down and looked at me guiltily. "I don't know what overcame me..."
I gave her a weird look and took her plate to the kitchen. That was really odd.
A few hours later, I walked in on Becky vomiting into the toilet. "Becky!" I cried, racing over to her side. "You made yourself sick with that food!" Becky looked up at me, extremely pale, then tossed her cookies again. She sat shuddering on the bathroom floor. I pitied her and helped her up after a few minutes. "Go lie down," I said gently, "I'll check your temperature." I flushed the toilet and washed my hands off.
"Don't bother, Cinderella," Becky said, looking dejected.
"You're really pale, Becks," I said, leading her out of the room.
She just shook her head. "I'm fine." She laid down on a couch anyway, and I pulled blankets over her so she wouldn't get cold. "I'm fine," she muttered again before succumbing to sleep.
The next few weeks went by uneventfully. Prince and I managed to get a handle on our lives even better so that we took care of Andy and our time with each other. Andy really loved the doll and cried whenever he was apart from it. He hadn't cried in ages now, except when he was really hungry or needed a diaper change. The doll really did work like a charm. Occasionally King would get jealous and take Andy all for himself. Sometimes this worked, sometimes Andy would cry out for his doll.
Instead of Becky being Andy's step-grandma (it was weird enough that Becky was my step-grandma-in-law), I asked her to be Andy's aunt and godmother. Of course, Becky readily accepted.
Best of all, Prince and I made time to have fun with each other. We did it in the night, mainly, then fell asleep immediately, both of us exhausted. In the morning we would cuddle while we waited for King and Becky to leave. King always took care of Andy in the morning by feeding him and changing his diaper before setting off for work.
One morning, when Andy was about four months old, I was making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for later when I heard voices. I wasn't normally one to eavesdrop, but I could tell that it was King and Becky. Their voices sounded aggravated, but they were on the opposite side of the house from me, so I couldn't make out what they were saying. I stopped spreading peanut butter on the bread and set my knife down and tip-toed to the spiral staircase, where I could see and hear them without being seen.
Becky was saying something to King, looking aggravated. All of a sudden, King stuck a finger in her face, slamming his cane on the floor in anger. Becky looked terrified.
"You slut! You cheating slut! I trusted you! And here you are, getting knocked up with someone's kid!" King bellowed.
"I'm not a slut, I didn't cheat on you, and it's not someone's kid, it's your kid!" Becky cried, throwing her hands in the air.
I tried not to gag as images of King and Becky having sex flew into my mind. He was so old! What was Becky thinking? That would explain her throwing up. From the pregnancy. Personally, I would be throwing up after doing it with an old geezer.
"How the hell could it be my kid! I'm ancient! I can't reproduce at this age!" King yelled, throwing his hands in the air as well. Well, the one hand. With the other he clenched his cane bitterly.
"Figure it out! You used Viagra! We didn't use protection!" Becky shouted.
That was too much. I dry heaved as quietly as I could, absolutely revolted.
"Don't lie to me! I was told by the doctor that I couldn't produce any more," King said with annoyance.
Another dry heave.
"Well something happened, because I'm pregnant, and you're the only one I've had sex with in several years!" Becky thundered back. I remember Becky telling me about how she lost her virginity to a hot guy she met at a bar one night. It was just a one night stand, with protection and all, but Becky tells me that she doesn't regret it the least bit.
"I know you're lying, Becky. If you really want to prove it to me, then once the baby is born, get a DNA test! Until then, though, there's no way I'm allowing you to live in this household!"
"You know what, screw you, jackass! I don't need to deal with your crap!" Becky pulled her ring off her finger and tossed it at him. "Keep this piece of trash!"
"Now get the hell out of my house!" King bellowed, stuffing the ring into his pocket. Becky glared at him once more. King merely smirked at her. Then Becky whirled around and stormed away. I managed to get back into the kitchen just in time as Becky grabbed her coat and left, slamming the door behind her. I finished making the sandwiches rather blindly as tears streamed down my face. What was wrong with King? I hoped dearly that Prince wasn't like him.
An hour later, I phoned Becky's cell. It went to voicemail. I left a message telling her to call me back. Another hour later, I got a call.
"Cind?" Becky said in a rather muffled voice. I knew that she was crying.
"Oh, Becky," I said, breaking down in tears again. "I heard what happened."
"Cind," Becky sobbed, and I pitied her. "It's horrible."
I let Becky shoot her mouth off about King for a while, some of which I agreed with after the way he had treated her. Then I faced the situation. "Becky, how far along are you?"
"About two months or so."
"And you're not showing yet?"
"A little bit."
"Where are you going to stay?"
"I don't know, Cind."
I paused. "And you still have stuff here... Tell you what, I'll phone you up when King leaves here. Then you can come here and pack your things. I'll lend you some money for a hotel or something. And you'll need to find a new job."
"Okay," Becky said, obviously too distraught to think straight.
"Where are you now?"
"I drove my car over to the park, and I'm just sitting here."
"Well you'll still get money if King wants a proper divorce," I said reasonably.
"That's true. Oh damn, Cindy, I have to go, this emo juggler is approaching me." I could tell by her words that Becky was already feeling better.
I laughed. "Good luck! I'll call you soon!"
I only now realize the irony of my words.
I packed Becky's bag for her and snuck it away. King didn't seem like he was about to leave anytime soon, and I couldn't stand the thought of Becky homeless. I phoned her again. "Becky? Are you still at the park?"
I heard a giggle and a man's voice. "Uh, yeah. One second," she said and I heard her whisper something to someone else.
"Yeah, okay well Becks just stay there. I'm going to bring your stuff over," I said when Becky returned.
"Great, thanks!"
I grabbed Becky's suitcase and made for the door. "Where are you going?" I turned. It was King. I felt really awkward standing there in this situation.
"The park," I replied defiantly.
"Super! Me too," King said and headed out as well. "I can drive you then."
Damn it. I piled into the passenger seat, searching for an excuse. "So which park are you going to?" King asked, starting the car. There were only two. I knew that Becky was at the main one.
"Ah, any park," I said nonchalantly. "I just need some fresh air."
"Sure thing, then," King said and drove away. I crossed my fingers, hoping he wouldn't question my suitcase or drive to the big park. To my relief, he drove to the smaller park, the one near the main park.
We got out of the car and King walked up to a man in a blue suit. I followed awkwardly, clenching the suitcase in my sweating hand. How to get away? King greeted the other man and introduced him to me. I nodded, not paying attention. The man and King seemed lost in conversation, even more so when King whipped out his wallet and pointed at pictures of Andy and talking all about his grandchild.
"I'm just going to go for a walk..." I said, and let relief wash over me when King wished me a farewell and continued talking to the man.
"Don't wait up for me!" I called back before walking over to the big park. I saw Becky and waved to her as if we hadn't seen each other in years. She waved back. As I got closer, I realized she was sitting next to someone. An emo juggler? They were leaned in close to each other. Damn it Becky. She wasn't even broken up for a day and she goes about flirting with other men. Maybe she was just on the rebound.
I handed Becky her suitcase, but when I offered her some cash she flat out refused. "Becky, you need the money," I argued.
"Actually..." she said, and turned to the guy, giggling.
"Cindy, this is Wylie Luck. He's..." she leaned in to me, and Wylie looked away, pretending not to be listening, "....spill guy."
'Spill guy' was our code name for the guy who Becky lost her virginity to, because he spilled a drink on her. Awkward, meeting the guy you had a one night stand with. There seemed to be some chemistry between them, though...
Wylie laughed and turned back to us. "Just to make things clear here, Becky gave me her number-or should I say, 'a' number? I tried to phone the number, but I ended up being greeted by a very gruff man." Wylie looked at Becky suspiciously. I did as well.
Becky burst out laughing. "I was so hammered! I tried to give you my proper number, but I guess my 0 looked like a 6, my 1 looked like a 7, and my 4 looked like a 9!"
Wylie rolled his eyes. "I ended up talking to her principal, for Christ's sake!"
I burst out laughing as well. "So did you see her here and decide to confront her?"
"That's exactly what I did! And she didn't recognize me in my work clothes-" he looked down at his ridiculous outfit, "-but a quick confrontation was all it took."
"And a quick explanation was all it took for us to be friends again," Becky said, staring passionately into Wylie's eyes. Yuck. "Anyway, Cindy, Wylie offered for me to stay at his house until I can find better living conditions."
I raised my eyebrows. "I would offer you a place, but well, you know..."
"It's no biggie. Thanks for bringing my stuff, Cinderella."
"Will you file for divorce?" I really didn't want King and my best friend to be married, but I didn't want either of them to be unhappy or have to deal with tons of drama.
"Definitively," Becky said sternly, "King is a dick. Also, he's too old, honestly."
I nodded. "And Amen to the fact you finally realized that!" We chatted a bit more, but finally I hugged her goodbye, nodded goodbye to Wylie, and made my way back home.
What a day. To top it all off, when I got home, I was feeling sleepy, so I took a nap. When I woke up, I vomited into the toilet.
I didn't feel all weak like I did before. I felt cleansed and lighter. I flushed the toilet, then walked over to the sink to wash my hands. It spurted everywhere. "DAMN IT!" I shouted, losing my cool.
The door banged open as Prince walked in. "Hey, babe," he said in a nonchalant matter, and grabbed a toilet cleaner and started scrubbing the toilet as I worked on the sink.
"They're divorcing now, you know," I said bitterly.
"I'm aware."
"I hope you don't blame Becky," I snapped cruelly.
He stopped cleaning the bowl. "I don't want to get in a fight with you and I don't want to take sides. But I do know that dad wasn't being crazy when he acted the way he did."
"No? You don't think he was being utterly irrational and rude?" I mocked, letting the water fly all over me.
"No, I don't," Prince said and continued cleaning the toilet, "Because he and my mum tried to have kids and it didn't work. And dad has wanted grandkids for ages, so he was absolutely overjoyed when we had Andy. And then suddenly he meets Becky and he falls in love with her and he was just stunned that someone so young and pretty and funny would marry him."
"Yeah, I was pretty stunned too," I snorted.
Prince ignored me. "So not only is he madly in love with her, but he was afraid of losing Becky like he lost mom. And then suddenly she says she has a kid and it's just so overwhelming for him that he doesn't believe it and he's hurt."
"But she didn't cheat on him," I countered, finally fixing the sink. "And he had no trust in her for whatever reason."
"It's not that he didn't trust her, it's that he doesn't believe he earned this privileged of being gifted with another child and a beautiful woman, so... instead of accepting and welcoming the truth, as a means of self-defense, dad would rather push away the one he loves than be hurt by them," Prince explained.
It actually made sense. Prince put the toilet brush away and flushed the toilet before washing his hands. "There was that saying-'If you love something, set it free. If it comes back to you, it's yours forever, if not, it was never meant to be.' I think dad is testing that theory."
I pulled Prince into a tight hug. "He'll be disappointed, I think, because Becky has moved on." I kissed Prince on the lips. "I'm sorry. But she is my best friend."
"I understand. All is forgiven." He kissed me back.
"Don't ever try that with me, okay Prince? I'll just be hurt and scared to come back."
"I promise."
"Oh right, and... can you get me my other nightgown?" I asked, pulling away.
"Why?" Prince asked, looking at my nightgown for spots of vomit.
"I'm pretty sure I'm pregnant."
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