+1+
The freckled girl stared at me wide eyed as I ran my fingers along the card. I slipped my nail underneath the lamination and with a little effort wedged it open and the paper ID slid out.
I looked up surprised she was still there watching me. I laughed at the idea that she might have actually wanted the fake I.D back after I had destroyed it.
He blonde friend watched from behind, me her ID clutched in her hand.
“Next”, I decided to bait her.
The blonde friend stepped forward and handed me her ID I went through the same process but the lamination wouldn’t give.
“Shit”, I handed the idea back to her, “Fine, why don’t you pick something out”
The girl begins to look through the books and jumps a little, I turned to see my boss Venus De Milo (No, seriously) approaching from the back.
“Everything okay ?”, she asks
“Yes”
Venus turns to another one of the artist and says something to him in Japanese. They exchange a few more words, none of which I catch and she moves back to her office.
Blonde girl with the help of her friend decides on a butterfly on her hip.
How original
I’m not surprised, late September meant the arrival of college freshman. Mostly smart private school kids who stumbled into college a few months short of 18, but can’t wait to be rebellious
The girl ad I talk a little about color, shading and making the butterfly original even though I’m half listening to myself. I hand her a pamphlet on the application process and try to sell her on getting it done tonight.
I settle to $100 and lead her discreetly back to my chair, pulling a stool up for her friend. I quickly finish the stencil when I hear the door to Venus’s office door open.
Shit.
“What are you doing”, her accent is sharp
“I’m with a clie—“
“You know you have to have a sketch approved by me first”, she takes the pencil from me and murders my design, “The wings should be more like this and don’t you think it’s a little big”
She practically pushes me out the chair.
“Venus.“
“I’m serious Tomas, if you don’t follow the rules you are going to have to find yourself without a job.”
I hated the way she was bitching at me infront of a client and I knew she was going to bring up the one think I sucked at.
“Now Tomas why don’t you put her name on this card and I’ll refer her to another artist who isn’t being put on probation”
She shoved a referral card in my face and I wondered if I could make up a name, I had been holding her ID for a good five minutes.
“Lydia”, Blonde—Lydia said.
I pretended like I just remembered it and wrote her name down, Venus staring me down the whole time.
Once the girls were out of the shop I took a splash of Vodka from the fridge in the breakroom waiting for another lecture. I bite down on my new pierced Spiderbites, my teeth grinding on the metal.
My mind hadn’t been on work for a long time.
“Is there a reason you’re trying to pull that shit ?”, Venus taking the glass from me.
“I wanted a fucking commission, okay”
“You want to make more money get a second job, but don’t fuck with my system, you’re going to be working the front desk for 2 weeks. No new clients, you can also cut your day short. I’ll see you on Monday”
“I have a doctor’s appointments on Monday and Thursday”, I reminded her. She looks at the work calendar on the wall.
“Saturday is free”
“That’s when I spend all day waiting to pick up meds”, I really wanted that Vodka.
“Work something out”, she said on her way out.
I decided to call it a night and headed out. I didn’t even think as I caught the last number 21 bus to TriBeCa.
More specifically to the apartment of Severine Duval.
After several knocks Severine opens the door dressed into a long satin robe, her hair in small curls and I’m pretty sure she still had her make up on.
“What is it?” she thought there was something wrong, “What did you do? Where is Sofia--”
“Nothing. . .look I’m making enough this week and. . . I just need. . . can’t make rent”
“Does Sofia know?’
“She’s only been back for a week, I don’t want to worry her.”
“Come in”
As she closes the door behind us I consider how this could look from the outside, but Severine had nothing but contempt for me.
She rummages in her purse for her wallet. I keep my distance.
“How much ?”, she asks
“Um, $2100”
“No I mean how much short”
Silence
“Seriously ?”, Severine finally gets it, “You know Angeline is on top of all my expenses. She would not like this.”
“I know this is the last time and only time.”
“Nice, um. . .”, she tapped the bottom of her lip.
“Thanks”, since when did Severine complement me, did she want something in return
“So, you’re really okay with this? I mean you were both ready to call it quits. I don’t think you know how bad it was.”
Severine certainly new a few of my secrets, I doubted she would tell Sofia about Gracelyn.
“I don’t want to hurt her, I think now it would hurt more to leave. . . I think”
I tried to cover up the bit of vulnerability I let show.
“850 is all I can spare”, she counts out the cash.
“I’ll repay you, I just—“
“Whenever”, Severine shuffles over to the door and opens it.
We didn’t say good-bye but I was sure we were getting on better terms, slowly.
+++
The last thing I suspected Sofia to do was work after dropping out of her third college I was almost afraid she had given up. A quick google search of all the medications she had started taking confirmed she was on some tough shit, including Lithium and CBZ.
I mean who the hell is subscribed Lithium ?
I didn’t need her to tell me what was wrong, I just knew. I think I always have. There was no way in hell a perfectly sane girl would marry me.
I stop in the alley a few blocks from the studio and balancing a flashlight between my teeth I shoot up quickly, just to take the edge off.
When Sofia told me she taken the rhypnol I had hidden in the apartment I plead a silent guilt. I couldn’t be mad at her for getting sky high and whatever else she did to get herself in the mess she was in.
Sofia had been trying to numb the pain I had caused.
I knew exactly what that was like.
The point is you don’t leave after something like that.
You pick up the pieces.
I pushed open the door to the studio apartment, dropping my bag on the floor
The lights are dimmed and except for the faint sounds of the radio and whistling tea keetle it is silent.
She is sitting on the couch, doing what looks like the New York Times crossword in pen
I had managed to move my small wardrobe and few belongings back to the studio with ease, while Sofia still hadn’t even gotten around to unpacking her trunk.
“Okay?”, I ask from the kitchen while turning off the stove
“Yeah, I’m just thinking.”
“Me too”, I confess even though I know we aren’t thinking of the same thing.
“Really ?”
“Yeah, listen Sofie you. .. shouldn’t work. .. or anything but I don’t think we can afford to stay here.”
“I wasn’t thinking about that.”
I have already counted 8 times she has looked at her phone since I’ve been back. She keeps hoping that couple will call her back, I don’t have the heart to tell her they won’t.
She was torturing herself calling them everyday only to have them hang up on her.
“You know”, she said, “there are other cheaper places . ..other cities.”
“I know, but give me sometime and I’ll figure something out.”
“Not if I don’t first”, she said with a little laugh.
It sounded more like a challenge
+++
Sofia
“You know”, Severine said as she sprinkled some cinnamon in
her coffee, “I mean if you wanted to.”
“What”, I chose an isolated table on the terrace of the coffee shop, Severine followed.
After spending nearly two weeks locked in the apartment I had decided to get out. I hated to think the medications I was on were working. I wondered if things would have been different if my Mom had taken her.
Either way the only thing I could bring myself to do was havecoffee with Severine, it seemed like it would be simple.
The reflection on the glass doors caught my eye, there was no hiding how far along I was. The truth was I hated seeing my reflection I was trying so hard to make things right with everyone with my biggest problem always staring me in my face.
And the funny thing was I was better. I didn’t feel sick, emotional or tired. Maybe I was getting used to being pregnant I just wish I could have time to enjoy it.
“It’s just I know Tomas’ clock is ticking”
“Severine, that’s a terrible thing to say”, I semi-scolded
her.
“I know but it’s just—and I would be totally okay with this—you could tell Angeline about this whole thing. . . and tell Adam he’s the father.”
She was very non-chalant but nervous.
“Severine.”, I said with disappointment
“No—it’s just Angeline wouldn’t be mad anymore, I mean
Adam’s gorgeous, rich, he’s stable.
I nearly chocked on my decaf, but I knew Severine was right. Sometimes I had dreams about my last day with Adam but they never lived up to reality, but that wasn’t my biggest problem.
“I still think I can get through to the Winston’s I still have about 3 months to change their minds.”
“I’m just concerned Sof, I mean you haven’t even seen a doctor yet.”
“You know I don’t like hospitals. . . but I’ll get around to it.”
Just the thought of lying in a hospital bed with doctors poking and prodding at me sent chills through me.
“Seriously Sofia, I don’t want to see you get hurt again”
“At first”, I told her, “I thought I was going back to Tomas because I didn’t have a choice. . . but Severine , Tomas and I need each other. . . I know I love him. His problems aren’t his fault”
That clearly didn’t sit well with Severine and after a few minutes it didn’t sit well with me either.
II
+2+
I closed my eyes and tried to catch a few seconds of sleep.
Hoping that maybe I’ll be able to forget where I am.
I know if I open my eyes I’ll see orange and yellow hard plastic chairs lining the long hallway, and bored, sickly people sitting on the floor with burnt out florescent lights flickering above.
It was hard to believe we had been sitting here for 3 hours waiting.
This was our last resort.
From the outside the HIV/AIDS Services Administration building looked like any work place high-rise but the inside was depressing.
While the upper-class “too cool for condoms” AIDS crowd fled to their private doctors and trust funds it left placed like this for the dredges of society to pick up their lives.
People like me
Not her
Sofie kept her eyes down, trying to smooth out the wrinkles in her blouse. I slid my hand underneath hers, an unfamiliar sliver turquoise ring was on her left ring finger.
“What’s this ?”, I asked.
“I guess I just got used to having something there.”
She reached up to kiss the side of my face, she smelled almost like vanilla or something sweet like coconut—
“Alexander ?”, A woman in a plain (and equally depressing) pantsuit called.
I held onto Sofia’s hand tightly as the woman navigated us back around a maze of cubicles and offices. I guess this was my first taste of corporate America.
She led us into an empty cubicle and motioned to two plastic chairs.
“I’m Caroline, a caseworker with HASA, what can I help you with, Today”, she said like she was reading a teleprompter.
“Well”, I decided to dive in. I was missing work., “I’m working right now but I don’t know if I’ll be able to stay in our apartment and leaving the city isn’t really an option.”
I couldn’t leave Dr. Lane or my support group.
“Are you both infected ?”, she asked looking at Sofia.
“Just me”, I was mangling my words this whole situation made me feel like a
charity case.
After a brief silence Caroline attacked us with a string of questions ranging from my shitty income to my equally shitty health record. It was obvious that options were slim but what where the chances I’d find another job with out a GED.
It also didn’t help that I was over 10,000 dollars in debt.
The truth was I’d been somewhat sheltered my whole life. Sure, I could work and
hard too, but my mother had always been there; paying rent, bills and other
household shit. I know part of that wass because I was sick as a kid, but I
hadn’t been prepared for this.
Caroline took out a giant calculator and began to add and subtract more numbers than I could keep up with, ranging from income, insurance and rent.
I looked over at Sofia knowing she was keeping up with every number and word the woman threw at us, she was a smart girl, but she looked like she was about to cry.
“I think we can work something out,” Carolina said, “We know Meds can be expensive and with pregnant wife I think we can help you find an affordable place to stay till you get back on your feet.”
“Help ?”, Sofia spoke up for the first time since we arrived, “What does that mean ?”
“Let’s see”, she turned to her computer, “We have a housing property opening up and we can work out an affordable lease—“
“Like an Apartment ?”, Sofia interrupted
“Well, It’s a high rise building—“
“Like Public housing?”
“Yes, HASA has many residents. . . we place a lot of struggling famili--”
Sofia turned to me shaking her head
“No, Tomas. Let’s find something else.”
“Sofie, we are running out of options.”
“Mrs. Alexander”, Caroline tried to start an outburst, “Considering your both very young and on anti-psychotics you should be fortunate I’m not suggesting palliative care.
“I shouldn’t have to do this.”, she was clearly offended by Caroline’s comment.
I gave her ten seconds to calm down but by the time I got to five she was navigating her way out the building.
I chased her down to the elevator and slid in just before the doors shut.
“Sofie, this is only temporary we’ll be fine.”
“No.”, she was stubborn, “Why can’t we just move to another state ? Another town ?”
Because I don’t want to, because I’m kind of a selfish bastard
“As long as you’re my wife, you are staying”, I said
“Shut up”
"Fine, Sofie what are you going to do ? Why don’t’ you go running back to Angeline.”, I leaned in close to her, “You can’t even tell her that you’re pregnant. Do you think she’ll take you back ?”
I knew what I was doing before I said it. I could count the number of times my mother went back to my father because he reminded her the she had no job or family in the states.
“Why don’t you go back home and rest ? I’ll finish this."
“I really don’t want to do this”
“I know-“
She pushed me away
“You can’t do anything right”.
“God, I know”, of course I knew, “I just until we figure something out, please.”
“You don’t understand.”, she said and I knew this was about something else.
“I swear Sofie, I’m not going to leave you, we’ll do this together.”
“You can’t say that. . . I’m the one who is going to have to live in a world without you. I’ve been trying to hold on to you since the day we met but you keep on slipping away”
Shit shit. shit what was I supposed to say.
“Listen”, I pulled her a little closer, “If you ever find yourself in a world without me. . .just know that I tried as hard as I could to stay.”
“Okay”, she gave in.
Like father like son
+++
III
Tomas
It’s not worth it
I tell myself, but it’s like this fucker doesn’t even see the looks he's getting. Not that anyone would say anything.
I mean this is
The 6 train rattles one more time and once again all eyes go to the man slumped in the corner, taking up the last seat in the crowded train.
The guy is probably as high as a kite but still.
I look down at Sofia who is clinging on to me, still trying to balance her weight. Her fingers are curled around the collar of my shirt and then around the silver chain around my neck.
It’s a shorter and thinner chain then the one I usually wear and instead of a cross two silver rings are lopped around it and tucked out of view, I don’t think Sofia even knows I have the rings.
I keep a tight grip on the pole not quite ready to touch her
like I used to.
The train halts to a stop and starts again more people piling on, tilting and rumbling the train hits another rough spot and I swear she almost falls.
“Hey”, I nudged the guy and suddenly the entire crowded car is staring at me, “Come on.”
“Please don’t”, she begs, she doesn’t trust me to keep her safe.
Her eyes are still red from moving out earlier, that tiny studio apartment we had left behind had meant something to her. Sofia had felt like she was making her way in the world just to have it crash down.
I also understood that
Everything important we had in the world had been stuffed into 3 cardboard moving boxes to be delivered tomorrow. Everything else had to fit into two suitcases.
I let out a sigh of relif as we approached the 3rd
The high-rise was 22 stories high, perfectly situated in the middle of Mott Haven in the South Bronx.
I sucked at remembering street numbers but it was somewhere in between 5 liquor stores and condos that looked like a clock and a few antique shops.
I adjusted all the bags I was carrying so we could hold hands, I think we always held each other’s hand when we were scared afraid . . . maybe ?
“It’s okay”, I told her leading her inside
It was the middle of the work day the lobby of the building was empty. The elevator was a mess the walls were covered in hand writing; the floor had a fine layer of dust.
We stood in silence as the elevator opened to the ninth
floor.
The ninth floor housed 25 apartments crowded in a tiny hallway that was littered with broken toys, paint and glitter.
The sound of small feet and laughter came from apartment D, the door was covered with children’s drawings
“Sofia?”, I handed her the key, she looked like she might stab me with it.
I just needed her to stay with me just a little longer.
I took the key and without waiting and opened the door
The air was strong, the apartment smelled like bleach, paint and sweat. The stained yellow-gray carpet covered the small living area , the kitchen was pushed in the back, and just across from it led to a “master suite”.
The space was better than any in Manhattan and I could already see myself setting up a canvas somewhere.
Basic furniture was provided, it probably needed a little cleaning. It wasn’t much but it was better than being homeless.
“This is only temporary”, Sofia said to herself.
She shuffled around in her purse and pulled out a postcard sized picture of the print she had in the old aparment. It was blurry and looked to be people on sea but I couldn’t really see and my French sucked.
I turned my wrist to look at my watch
“Shit, I have to get back to my grou—the hospital”, I hadn’t
gotten around to mentioning the support group.
“Okay.” I think she was trying to find what to clean first
“I want to give you something.”
I found my work bag digging through the sketchpads, pencils and coal I pulled out a oblong shaped wrapped in an old shirt.
“Here”, I placed it in her hand.
“What is this—“, she started to unwrap it, “God, is this a gun ?”
“Yes”, I didn’t want to start a fight, “I plan on working my ass off and that means late hours to get out of debt and I don’t want anyone laying a hand on my wife and getting it back.”
“Did you miss the antique shops and fancy lofts ?”
“Fuck that, I can practically smell the crank in the floorboards.”
“This is only temporary.”
I wish she would stop saying that.
+++
“Ink Addict.”
I didn’t even bother looking up when the evening receptionist walked into the break room at the tattoo shop.
Venus had finally lifted my probation and I was itching to get back to doing real work.
“Just a minute”, I said.
I read the letter one more time but I didn’t even really think anymore when I filled out credit card applications, I just needed to get my meds for the week and worry about the consequences later.
Ink addicts were the best part of my work. Sure the college kids, tourists and couples bought in the money but the ink addicts made it worth it.
I knew addiction better than anyone and every time I injected a needle full of ink into my skin it always ended with a high that no drug or woman (so far) could equate to. It was permanent and never changed. The pain was always worth it.
Ink addicts always had a story to tell. Sure some are guys I wouldn’t let near my family, but ink was the only way they could express the pain in their lives, and it was usually some tough shit. It was like having a front row seat to someone’s life story. Even if it’s just ‘I want an apple because it’s my girlfriend’s nickname.’
I walked out to the front, a black tribal tattoo laid perfectly between the vertebra and shoulders of the musular man, a red faded shadow almost like blood outlined the tattoo, the shading was dark and brilliant, it must have hurt like hell.
“This. . .looks familiar”, I said to the man laying face down in my chair
“Think so”, he said turning to show me his face, the tribal design turned perfectly with his body, it didn’t distort at all.
“I did this ?”, It came out as more of a question.
I usually remembered things like this, I knew looking at the mans face wouldn’t help. I looked at the shirt he had tossed on the floor and made out a ‘P’ and ‘D’
“Rookie cop. . .” I looked at the police officer, “you used to come to my old shop.”
I had also done a memorial tattoo on his calf, cops liked to get memorial tattoos and when they got a good one they liked talk about it, It was no wonder he was able to find me again.
“I was thinking of getting the tribal finished, you know biceps and shit. . . I liked you, you were quiet.”
I had a lot less to say nowadays.
“Sounds good”, I did some quick math on a piece of paper, “It’ll be about three thousand, it’s a lot of time, you know.”
“yeah, yeah,yeah”
It took me a few minutes to get back into the mindset of inking; I remembered the officer’s memorial tattoo from almost a year ago. Something about a fallen partner? Just when I thought I was loosing it, my art bought me back.
“Travis”, the man’s name came back to me.
I went in the back to set up the ink and get the machine started. I slipped my AZT a little early and went to work.
The evening receptionist left around midnight to grab a few drinks, I gave her a nod as she left me and Travis alone.
I turned up the stereo as soon as the door shut.
“Don’t have much to say, do ya”, said Travis. He had a real thick Brooklyn accent.
“No”, I said, while I started on the outline around his shoulder. He hissed in pain a little.
“Don’t want to know why I’m getting the tat ?”, he asked
“No”, I answered truthfully
I really just wanted him to shut up. I mean I really didn’t care. I would ink guys with marijuana leaves to make a quick pay off.
“Trying to piss off an ex, actually”, he said
“Wife?”
“Something like that.”
He jumped again as the needle digs deeper into his skin. This guy literally had thick skin, I got a little but of unnerving joy breaking it with the needle.
“You know this is going to hurt worse in the morning”, I said
“I’ll take a few asprin.”
“That won’t help.”, I wiped away excess ink and blew a little on the ink to dry it.
“Don’t I know it”, of course he knew that, “Got any special remedies?”
“Depends”, I said looking at the clock, “Working tomorrow?”
+3+
When I offered to buy a cop a drink I pictured some over crowded bar with corporate legal types or some hole-in-the wall that was filled with ex-cons and the like.
But this place was different.
The Velevet Lounge ? What kind of name is that ?
I ran my finger over the tip of the glass, the bottom of which has a bit of glitter on it. The flashing purple, blue and pink lights are giving me a headache.
“Hey, sweetheart”, the tall blonde waitress picks up my empty glass and offers me another.
She looks young enough to be my sister not that I would let any sister of mine (if I had one) dressed like the waitress was. She has to much make-up on and trying to hard.
I pretend not be offended as she slides into my lap and admires my tattoo’s with her hands.
“You look lonely”, she says
“I’m not”, I tell her, politely pushing her off of me. she is really not my type.
She looks hurt for maybe a second before she reaches the guys at the next table who give her a more than warm welcome.
Travis finally makes his way back from the bar with a highball drink in hand, I can make out the bandages from his tattoo underneath his shirt.
“Is it working ?”, I ask as he downs the drink. I had always found 4 parts vodka and a chaser had healing powers.
“Takes the edge off”, he says with a hand on his newly inked arm.”
I watch as the blonde makes her way back over, Travis waves her off before she can get any closer.
“What do you think of her”, asks Travis as the blonde walks off, slowly.
“Don’t like blondes”, I say honestly
“Me neither”, he agrees, “Real women are a handful”
“Yeah, I guess”. I look at my watch it’s almost 2 am, “Shit, I have to go.”
As I get up to leave Travis calls me to wait, instead of grabbing my shoulder or something, his fingers brush against my palm and for some reason it makes me stop and get angry.
“What the hell is your problem ?”, I asks once we are outside
“What’s yours ?”, he asks, “You really want to go home alone ?”
“I don’t live alone.”, he knew that.
I wonder if he is going to follow me the 13 blocks to my car, but he doesn’t
“But you do live a lie.”
I wanna keep going, but I can’t. It’s no that I want to hear what else he has to say. I just can’t.
“Look”, I start getting mad, “You want a tattoo ? Fine .You want to tell someone what is or isn’t a lie you can fuck yourself.”
“Just slow down”, he calls to me.
I turn around and making sure no one is watching and shove him into a wall.
“Leave me the fuck alone”
“I met your wife, remember”, he recovers quickly, “I see the way you look at her. I know that look.”
If he was going to arrest me he sure as hell wasn’t going to do it infront of a bar gilled with drag queens. He grabs my arm this time and I can tell there is going to be a bruise in the morning.
“What the fuck do you want from me?”
He thought maybe five seconds before his mouth was hard and unrelenting against mine. Unrelenting in a good and bad way. I wondered if under the ink shield and piercing this was who I really was.
I pulled away struggling to catch my breath.
“Stay the fuck away from me”, I managed
Taking my keys out of my pocket I started to jog all the way back to my car, because the faster I get there, the faster I can get home lock myself up somewhere and cry.
+4+
The door closes silently behind me, I don’t think she even heard me. Even in the dark the apartment still manages to look depressing. The only decoration are two old birthday cards Sofia received for her birthday, One from Severine, one from me a day late.
Quietly I take my backpack from the top of the closet. A few pencils and old sheets of paper fall lose. Tucked in the bottom is a picture of Gracelyn. I think she gave it to me or something.
In the dark I study the face looking back at me, covering her face with my finger. I can’t stop looking at her sandy red hair.
“Tomas ? Is that you ?”
“Yes, Love. I’m coming.” I toss everything back in the closet.
Sofia is sitting on the bed her face is buried in her hands, strands of her hair tangled.
She’s perfectly still.
Perfectly quiet, but I felt it.
It’s hard seeing someone you love hurting, the slightest movement and my heart jumps.
I drop my coat on the floor and sit behind her, her back is pressed to my chest, my hands run up her arms and settle beside her small ones.
I kiss her shoulder and slowly up her neck, with each kiss the tension in her body seems to melt away. Leaning close I start to whisper to her.
“Aš myliu tave. . . Tu esi labai graži, Sofytė”
She untangles her hands from mine and wipes her eyes, because she’s tired not because she’s crying.
“Atsiprašau, aš nekalbu lietuviškai.”, she says with a terrible accent.
I offer a smile she can’t see and press my lips to her back.
“It’s late.”
“I couldn’t sleep. My back is killing me and I was waiting for you. I know it’s ridiculous.”
“No it’s not”, I assure her.
She turns to kiss me, careful not to catch her lip on the metal. Holding her a tighter it’s hard to take my lips or tongue from hers. She unbuttons my shirt revealing every tattoo, track mark and injection I’d ever taken. I can practically smell the vodka and possibly the glitter and shame on myself.
“I’m going to take a shower”, I give her one last kiss.
By the time I think I’ve scrubbed away every sin and bad decision, she is already asleep. The radio is crackling slightly in the background. I watch while she tosses and turns while I’m fighting the urge for another cigarette.
I wasn’t living a lie.
I couldn’t.
+++
Usually my meds knock me out but I could not sleep for shit. My watch glows at 5 am but the bedside lamp is on.
“Sofia?”
I turn over to see her in tears.
“Sofie? What’s wrong?”
“I just don’t feel well.”
“Do you want to go to the hospital? I can get the ca-”
“No. I just ---“
“What?” her skin is warm.
“I just don’t feel well, go back to sleep”, she said timidly
I’d seen her upset, I’d seen her in pain before. She had never acted like this.
Pulling back the sheets, I see a small damp spot
“It’s too early”, she finally says
I think that’s when I decided God had it out for me.