Handful by C.R. Grissom

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Kirsty

Collin opened his eyes. I’m still trying to process the fact he progressed past one of his largest, post-accident hurdles. Yes, he was in a medically induced coma, but once they backed the meds off and removed the ventilator, the worry remained that he might not wake up.

He did. And went right back to sleep.

They found an ocular fracture they’ve decided to let heal on its own. He’ll have to be able to take an eye exam before they can determine any vision impairment, which is worrisome. Only time will tell.

Mom came home with me. We left Dad at the hospital. He’ll call if there are any changes with Collin. She dropped face-down on their bed and fell asleep immediately. That was three hours ago.

I’ve consumed too much caffeine to fall asleep. I’m too exhausted. My brain won’t shut off. I roll over and rummage through my backpack for Molly’s pills. I have to sleep while I can. I’m no good to anyone in my current zombie state.

Grabbing the half-empty water bottle on my nightstand, I fill my mouth with liquid, drop the pill into my mouth, and swallow quickly. I close my eyes and breathe deep, trying to compose myself for sleep.

My professors have given me a one-week break on assignments. I’m so behind. My heart thuds in my chest. Thoughts of school aren’t helping me relax. I can catch up. I’ll make up lost time. Breathe. Focus on Collin getting well. That’s the most important thing.

Collin almost died.

I shudder.

He didn’t. He won’t. He’ll get better. Whether I pass my classes isn’t a matter of life or death, unlike Collin’s situation. Find your balance, I admonish myself. Failing a few classes won’t kill me, it’ll just do a remarkable imitation of it.

Fuck.

The specter of Granny Kay looms at the foot of my bed. Not really, I’m imagining her there. Don’t be like your mother, her voice chides in my head.

I rub my tired eyes. I want to scream, “Shut the fuck up. My mom is an amazing woman.”

The tears spurt, and I curl into a ball on my bed. I’m hallucinating about having a conversation with my dead grandmother. She’s not here. I know this but tears still fall.

I must have slept because Mom shakes me awake. “Kirsty, if you want to shower you need to wake up.”

Her voice slips through the fog in my brain. “I’m awake.”

I sit up in bed, and scrub my hands down my face. Sunlight slants through my window. “What time is it?”

My tongue feels thick in my mouth. I reach for the water bottle, but have trouble opening it.

“Just past eleven.” Mom takes the bottle out of my hand, twists the cap off, and passes it back to me. “Maybe you should stay and sleep a little more?” Her voice is full of worry.

“No. I want to get back to Collin.”

“Okay.” She rubs my shoulder. “I’m going to make us some sandwiches while you shower. Don’t take long, please. I want to get back to the hospital.”

I nod. Her words are a blur. My brain hasn’t caught up to the fact that I’m awake. Undressing in my bedroom, I head for the shower. Cranking the water to hot, I grab my toothbrush to brush my teeth while the water heats. I grab tampons from under the sink to stick in my backpack before I forget and leave for the hospital without them. I should start my period at some point today.

While in my bedroom, I glance at my phone charging on the nightstand to check the date. Today is the fifteenth. I should have started my period on the twelfth. The day after I left Fortis. My heart starts to bong in my chest. I’m never late. Ever.

Stop. It’s stress, I reassure myself. My anxiety is off the charts right now. There’s no possible way. I’m on the pill. I haven’t missed a single dose, even the little brown placebo pills to stay on track. We use condoms every time without fail.

I grab my pill pack out of my backpack. I’m on the fourth brown pill.

The blood drains from my head and I collapse to my bed. No.

This isn’t happening.

I imagine Granny Kay’s voice shrieking in my ear, You’re just like your mother.

*

There’s a pharmacynext door to the hospital. I ducked inside after checking on Collin to grab a test. I can’t stop obsessing about my overdue period. Buy a test and you’ll relax once you get the negative results, I convince myself.

I check the different tests available. I choose one with early detection. I read the package and it states you can get results even before your period is due. Perfect.

I pass it to the girl at the checkout counter with shaking hands. She shoots me a sympathetic look while she rings me up. I let my debit card hover over the POS machine and pay for the transaction.

The clerk calls out a cheery, “Good luck!”

I feel absolutely sick. Not in a pregnant way, I convince myself. In a normal, non-breeding way.

I head back into the hospital. The bathrooms on the ICU floor aren’t busy since fewer people are allowed on Collin’s floor. I duck into the bathroom on the other side of the building from his room. I flip the stall lock with shaking fingers. I read through the directions twice. I don’t want to make a mistake.

I get everything set up. I pee on the stick and set my phone timer for three minutes. I nearly hyperventilate waiting for the results that can change the course of my life. I don’t make a sound even when someone comes in and uses the stall next to mine.

My timer goes off. I turn off the alarm with a shaky finger, and flip the hand gripping the test over to check the results. I stare hard at the test. There are two lines.

I’m fucked.

My breath whooshes out of my lungs and the test drops out of my hand to land on the floor.

I must have cried out. The person in the stall next to me asks, “Kirsty, is that you?”

Mom.

“Yes,” I whisper.

I pick up the test and open the stall door. Mom is on the other side of the door, her eyes wide, and face dead white.

“Your dad…” she stammers. “Oh, Lord. Let’s get you home. We’ll talk. We’ll figure this out.”

I’m mute. There’s nothing to say and a thousand things lie between us. I dump the test into the trash bin and step over to the line of sinks to wash my hands. Mom does the same. She loops her arm through mine to lead me out of the bathroom and into a waiting room. “Stay here. I’ll grab the car keys.”

I sit. I’m weirdly disconnected from myself. My knees start to shake and I watch them bounce.

Mom says, “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you home.”

*

My fugue statelifts on the drive home. My worst fears have come to life. I’m probably flunking most of my classes and I’m pregnant. I’d laugh at myself if I could find the energy. I’m in a free fall and wonder how far the pieces of myself will splat on landing.

Do I care?

Other than the constant skittering of what feels like beetles crawling down my spine, I’ve got nothing. If I fill the ‘con’ side of the argument, there are an equal number of reasons for the ‘pro’ side. Not that there’s a pro side in unplanned pregnancy.

I have to figure it out. What to do? How to proceed? Mom has been hovering around me since we stepped through the door. She’s tried to draw me into conversation. I wasn’t ready to talk. Now I am.

She’s sitting next to me on our living room couch. Patting my knee, whispering nonsense.

“Kirsty, you have choices. You don’t have to—”

“I know. I’m not ready to make them yet.” I inhale deep, hold my breath, and let it go. The knowledge that I can’t ignore this conversation doesn’t change the fact I’m uncomfortable with its necessity. “I know I’m your greatest mistake.”

Mom recoils so fast her head collides with the wall behind the couch. The noise when her skull connects makes my stomach lurch.

She yelps, rubbing the back of her head. Her eyes go shiny with tears.

I’m not sure if they stem from emotion or from pain.

“What did you say?”

Shit.Maybe this isn’t the time to point out our similar situations? Her mistake. Mine. “You dropped out of college when you got pregnant with me.”

She shakes her head. “Where did you ever get that idea? You were my plan, and a miracle.”

My heart fists inside my chest. “I ruined your life and your plans. I’m factoring in everything while I figure things out for myself and this plays. This child changes things for me like I did for you.”

I cross my arms and cup my elbows in my hands. “I happen to appreciate the fact you chose to have me, but I know I came along and destroyed your life.”

Her left hand snakes up to her temple stroking the skin from eyebrow to cheekbone. “Kirsty, between your brother’s accident and your situation, I’m worn slap out. Where on earth did you get the idea you were ever a mistake?”

Mom’s Southern accent has made an appearance. It happens when she’s too tired to keep it bottled up. I’ve shocked her silly. Raising my voice, I say, “It’s okay, Mom. I get it. I’m just saying we have college pregnancy in common.”

A family tradition. Granny Kay must be spinning in her grave.

“You listen here.” Her eyes narrow. “I’d stopped going to class way before I got pregnant with you. You didn’t derail anything. You were planned. Collin wasn’t. Regardless, he’s my miracle, too.”

Adrenaline spikes through my body. The least she can do for me is fess up. “Granny Kay told me you dropped out of college because you were pregnant with me. You had to marry Dad. You two prettied everything up by talking about Durnin forever love, but that’s not why you got married.” Lowering my voice, I admit, “It’s okay.” I don’t sound okay. “I need to figure out my own life, like you guys did,” I say in a calmer voice.

“Jesus Christ,” she shouts, jumping off the couch to pace. “My mama could start an argument in an empty house. You’re telling me she told you I got pregnant, dropped out of college, and married your daddy because I had to?”

“Um…” Unease slithers through my belly. “Yeah?”

“Lord knows I loved my mama.” She makes eye contact with me. “Even though that woman was more often than not a cantankerous old witch.”

Holy crap.Mom doesn’t call her own mother names. I know she’s reached her absolute limit. A buzzing starts in my ears, and I shake my head to clear it. “I don’t understand.”

“I met your dad in college. It took me a pace to come to terms with my feelings. Eventually, I accepted he was the one for me. Your daddy always trusted his feelings—and knew we were meant to be. He kept spouting Durnin forever love at me. Mama had other ideas. She wanted me to get a degree and pursue a career.”

Her voice grows strong. “Honey, that was her ambition, not mine. I went to college to get away from my mother and finally get some space. I didn’t care about an education, not truly. Maybe Mama’s drive and constant nagging made me go the other way. Who knows?”

She paces around the living room gesturing with her hands. “We planned to get married, but we needed to figure out our housing situation. When he wasn’t in class, your dad made money under the table however he could. He’s always been handy. Plumbing, electricity. Odd jobs. He helped out this older couple who owned an eight-plex near the college, fixing stuff.”

Her lips curve. “I got hired as a waitress in a bar and grill close to campus. I went to class because I couldn’t drop out before we got married. I didn’t want Mama to come sniffin’ and pull me back home before I was ready.”

She kneels in front where I sit on the couch. “You need to understand something. You weren’t my first pregnancy. I lost that baby. We lost that baby,” she corrects, a hitch in her voice.

The pressure in my chest shoots into my head, radiating pain behind my eyes. It’s like she’s speaking a foreign language, one I can’t comprehend. “I wasn’t your first baby?”

Tears shimmer in her eyes. “No, sweetheart. I did get pregnant and lost that child before the end of my first trimester. Afterward, I sank into depression,” she admits softly.

She climbs back on the couch with me. “After the miscarriage I couldn’t function properly. I’d convinced myself I’d never have children. I broke up with your dad,” she scoffs.

It doesn’t seem real. It’s like I’m hearing a stranger’s story, not about my parents. The people I thought I knew. It’s like we’re playing a game of revisionist history. It’s disorienting. “You got pregnant with me in college.”

It sounds like a statement, but it’s not. I don’t know the difference between the lies I’ve been fed by Granny Kay and truth.

A faint smile crosses her lips. “I sure did. Your daddy wouldn’t let me break up with him. He said we’d be together forever ‘with or without children.’”

Mom wraps her arms around me. “After I lost the first—and I finally climbed out of the sad—we didn’t wait. We had sex without condoms and plotted and planned. I got pregnant the following school year. Timing didn’t matter. We didn’t care about the order of things. We got married when I was six months pregnant with you.”

I squeeze the bridge of my nose where pain drills deep. “I don’t know what to think. All my life I’ve felt like I took something precious from you. That’s what Granny Kay told me. You got pregnant with me and it botched everything.”

Her arms tighten around me. “That’s wrong on many levels. I’m so mad at Mama right now. I can’t even call her to scream at her for what she did. She had no right.” Mom brushes the hair back from my face. “I had no idea she talked to you about this. I hope you believe me. You were our miracle. I was so scared I’d lose you, too. I prayed every day I carried you that one day I’d hold you in my arms.”

Tears drip off my chin. I press my hand against my flat belly. The idea that something less than the size of a grain of rice will grow into a human being staggers me. A baby I made with Everest. God. I have to tell him. He has a right to know.

Later.

Right now I need to get my brain around the fact I’m not a mistake.

“We had you, but I didn’t get pregnant again until Collin. By the time he came along, we weren’t trying to have a child. We just did what we always did. Loved each other and created a good life for ourselves and for you. We wanted a big family.”

The sadness in her face breaks my heart. “I’m sorry, Mom. I never knew.”

“Mama never understood the love your dad and I have for each other. She certainly didn’t respect it. Collin was a surprise baby, but he was a blessing.” Her voice hitches. “I’m scared for him. I’m terrified down to my bone marrow about him.”

I nod in agreement.

“You’re going to have to tell your man, sweetheart.”

“I know. Won’t that be fun?”

She lets out a surprised laugh. “Nothing like a life event to put things into perspective. He’ll either run for the hills or stand by you.”

My stomach clenches. I press my hand tight against my belly. You’re not a mistake, I think. I don’t want this baby to ever think they’re a mistake. If you keep the baby. I grow cold at the thought. “Mama, I have so many questions.”

“Well, I hope I answered the most important one. We tried and tried to get pregnant with you. When I did, I don’t think my feet touched the ground for at least six months or until they got so swollen and I got so huge a cherry picker couldn’t have lifted me.”

“Why do you think Granny Kay lied to me?”

Mom sighs. “When she got a notion in that granite she called a head, nothing would shake it loose. To be fair, she didn’t know about the first baby. She also loved a good assumption and bad ones, too. She’d fill in her own blanks to make things fit the way she wanted them to.”

“I guess she wouldn’t like the alternative either.”

“You mean that I married the man I fell in love with to spite her?” Mom nods. “Absolutely. Tell me about this young man. The father of my grandbaby. You’re a Durnin through and through. Is he your forever love?”

“Come on, Ma,” I snort. Then it hits me. What’s been staring me in the face for these past months. The feeling I’ve actively ignored. I have fallen for the mountain. Shit. Fuck. Damn.

“He’s a leader.” I let out a breath. “He’s a caretaker, too.”

“Knowing my girl he’s got to be handsome.”

My lips curve. “He’s as tall as a mountain, built like a professional wrestler, and has a heart and character as true as Captain America.”

Mom fans herself. “All that?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Let’s head over to the hospital. I feel like maybe we’ve turned a corner. The Durnins are overdue for good luck.”

“Truth.” I hug Mom. “I’m sorry for my assumptions.”

“Honey, your assumptions were hand-fed to you by a pro. No need for you to apologize. I’m sorry I never saw this. I never imagined Mama would get at you this way.”

I breathe in and hold for a beat, then let it out. “I’m glad we talked today. It’s helped me get clarity.”

She cradles my face in her hands. “Everything will work out. You’ll see. Let’s not tell your father until you decide what you want to do.”

“Thanks, Mom. I need time to process.”

She pats my shoulder. “Your body, your choice.” She pauses and something dark crosses her face. “I don’t want to alarm you. It’s early days yet and…” She trails off. Her lips tremble and then firm. “Pregnancies can be fragile—one out of every four end in miscarriage—and sometimes you don’t get a choice. You need to know I’ll support you no matter what.”

Her words bring tears to my eyes again. She will; so will Dad. This news will change Eric’s life, too. My heart skips a beat at the realization. He hasn’t made any declarations about how he feels about me. What if he walks away?

What if I end this pregnancy and find out later I can’t bear children? I don’t know what to think. Mom had two children despite her earlier miscarriage. There’s a chance I’ll miscarry, too. Stop. My hands shake and I stare down at my quivering fingers. I haven’t made a decision yet. There’s time. Time to understand what I want today and to consider what might be a reality for me later in life.

Time to learn whether Everest cares about me or if I’m a convenient distraction who became an unwanted anchor because of our new circumstances.

Collin’s accident put things into perspective for me. There are little crises like bad grades, and life-changing crises like getting pregnant or being hit by a car. These things have the ability to change your life.

I can retake a class. It’s costly and time-consuming, but not life-altering.

I can love Everest without fear of losing myself.

He can choose to just be friends, and the sky won’t fall.

I’m strong. I can handle anything, even heartbreak.