Kite In The Snow by Karla Lopez

 

I lay curled up on my side of the bed as the tears flow out of me. I don’t even have the energy to force myself to stop crying, it’s a habit my body is way too accustomed to. There’s a soft knock on my door, but I don’t say anything, nor do I turn when my mom walks in.

“Travis is here to see you,” she says with her voice void of emotion. That’s my mom, not warm or cuddly, just a person hiding in the shadows for everyone else.

“I don’t want to see him.” I stay turned away from her as if that will protect me from all of them.

“Your dad said you need to come and greet him.”

I sit up suddenly out of anger, feeling my brain bounce inside my skull as I glare at my mom. “Don’t you ever get tired of doing what he says?”

“No, the Lord intended for us women to serve our men.”

I snort, but don’t say anything else. There’s no getting her to understand anymore.

I walk out of my room behind my mom and walk slowly into the living room where my dad and Travis wait for me.

“Hey, Mae,” Travis says timidly while guilt swirls in his eyes. He almost looks like my old Travis. “Can I talk to you outside?”

Without saying a word, I follow him out to the front yard. I stare into the distance of the desert and wait for him to speak.

“I’m sorry I missed the appointment.” The tone of his voice catches me off guard. He sounds genuine.

I turn toward him and see he’s sober. It pains me even more to be in front of the hollow man I once loved.

“Ain’t you going to say nothin’?” he asks after standing in silence for a few minutes.

“I saw you with her,” I tell him, looking at him straight in the eyes.

He swallows hard and looks away from me. I turn to walk back inside because truthfully, I’m so tired that all I want to do is drown in peaceful sorrow.

“Mae.” I feel him come toward me and lean his lips to my ear while my back is still toward him. “I fuck other girls, but you’re everything to me and I won’t ever fucking let you go.”

The air inside my lungs become so trapped that my ribcage starts to ache. I rush inside my house and slam the door in his face, and I know I’ll pay for that.

My dad’s voice startles me when he speaks behind me. “You better have taken him back, Mae Beth.”

I shake my head, and before I know it, my cheek is burning and I’m on my knees as tears streak my cheeks. He grabs me by my hair, and I yelp, feeling like my scalp is on fire. He drags me to the kitchen, and I just fold into myself.

My dad goes to the garage and pulls a bag of salt and my body shakes in fear knowing what’s to come. He dumps some on the floor and grabs me. “Kneel, now!”

I get on my knees, feeling the salt cut through my skin. I hiss at the sudden sting I try to breathe through the sharp pain shooting through my knees.

“You’re going to fucking kneel there until you take him back. You were stupid enough to spread your legs like a whore, now you’ll do your Godly duty and marry him before you give birth to that bastard. No daughter of mine will be the town’s mockery.”

Oh, daddy dearest, I’m everyone’s joke.

After an hour of kneeling on the salt, the burning on my skin subsides, and I look down to see that the salt has turned red, and my knees are bloody and purple.

I want to give up and accept his deal, but I also really want to die. I feel so broken and lifeless already. I want God to take me.

Dizziness fills my vision and my head spins. No, not my baby. I have to be strong for my baby. My thoughts fog up as I feel my head hit the floor and my whole world turns darker.

 

 

I watch Wyatt as he plays Coldplay—his favorite band, might I add. I noticed that they were his favorite when he played at least one of their albums once a day. He also pulls out a poetry book when they’re playing; he finds peace in words.

I keep staring at him from my side of the couch, getting the courage to ask him to go with me to my OB appointment tomorrow.

I’m scared he might reject me. He was nice enough to get me an appointment, but what if he just wanted to be friendly, not because he’s actually intrigued with going.

The reality that comes with being with someone who used to belittle you in your past is learning how to allow yourself to voice your needs and not have the fear of being hurt by someone new.

You tend to stay quiet because that’s how you were taught. That’s how you were treated.

Wyatt turns toward me, offering me one of his soft smiles. “You’re staring.”

I blush and turn away. “I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t be. It’s cute, but you know you can come out and say it.”

“How did you know I was going to ask you something?” I lean my head sideways.

“I just do.” He shrugs smugly.

“I just wanted to know if you wanted to come with me to my OB appointment tomorrow.” I fidget with the shirt I’m wearing that’s his. I’ve gotten bigger and my old clothes don’t fit me. He somehow knew and started leaving his shirts out for me to use.

“Only if you want to come, you don’t have to,” I rush out in one breath.

His smile widens as he stares at me. “I would love to go with you and finally see bean.”

My lips tip into a smile and my eyes turn blurry. I blink rapidly to try to tame my tears. “Thank you,” I whisper.

“Of course. Now, lie back and let me talk to bean.” And that’s what we do the rest of the night, I lie on my side while Wyatt reads poetry to bean. My eyes grow heavy as I watch him, his words luring me into sleep.

The next day, butterflies erupt inside of me as we sit in the empty waiting room. Excitement grows more and more inside of me as we get closer, but also fear. Fear that there could be something wrong with my baby. I only saw my baby once and then ran away. What if all the trauma I endured harmed them.

I bite my lip in nervousness when I feel a soft thumb pull my lip from my teeth. And when my eyes meet coffee ones, I suddenly become lost. The way his thumb slowly pulls my bottom lip down as if in slow motion makes all my most private parts warm. I feel my whole face flush in color.

“Mae Bakeman,” the receptionist calls out, and I jump as if I’ve been caught doing something wrong.

I hear Wyatt chuckle behind me, and I feel it all the way between my legs. It’s such a foreign feeling for me.

“Here you are. Did you drink your water?” I nod my head yes. “Awesome. Just take a seat on the table and our ultrasound tech will be right in.”

I go to sit on the table, but it’s a little too high for me. Wyatt lifts me with minimal effort and places me on the table. His stomach is touching my rounded belly, and I feel the tingles spread against my skin. I have this strong desire to pull him closer, but with both of us naked.

I look away from his beautiful, alluring eyes and look down between us. What comes next makes the fractured pieces of my heart twitch, making it revive a little.

His soft lips touch my forehead and so much is said in the way this man holds me. The boy filled with hope and love holds the broken girl while he slowly starts to put her back together.