Chapter Eight

Darby

I hugged the toilet while my body expelled the crackers I’d eaten before getting out of bed—a trick I’d read in one of the pregnancy books I’d checked out from the library the morning before. Most of the day was spent reading The Girlfriends’ Guide to Pregnancy, stopping only when it was time to eat and then again when I had to get ready for work.

Talking to Trex had felt so natural, so refreshing that I’d forgotten to eat all night. I would gladly listen to his story all over again. I wasn’t sure if it was just to spend more time with him, or because I found him fascinating. After a short sleep and a few more crackers, I was still sick. I’d have to set my alarm for three a.m. to eat, so Bean didn’t have to wait so long between snacks. There was a grocery store down the road. I could get a few items to hold me over until payday.

It was maddening, knowing that it took just one particularly handsome, seemingly nice man to forget to take care of myself and Bean. From the moment we met, Trex’s light blue eyes watched me like I was the center of his universe. His dark, wavy hair and constant five o’clock shadow was so different from Shawn that it was easy to believe the rest of him would be different, too. I shook the thought from my head. I’d begun this journey making decisions for two.

I’d hoped that leaving Shawn and Texas behind would turn me into a new person. The self-loathing I felt at that moment for still being the same silly, trusting girl I was before forced the tears welling in my eyes down my cheeks. Was I so emotionally crippled that I’d cling to anyone kind to me? Attention was something I was used to. For a long time, I thought it was something I’d done, some signal I was sending telling men to target me, but a few reruns of Oprah finally convinced me of something that should’ve been obvious: What happened to me as a girl wasn’t my fault. Simply smiling at or being nice to a man wasn’t an invitation. It was frightening to recognize that I was still desperate for someone to trust. Desperation was a strong tether that kept me bound to Shawn for so long. I couldn’t let it push me toward someone else.

I flushed the toilet and pushed off the tile floor, washed my hands, and then squeezed a dollop of mint-green toothpaste onto my brand-new toothbrush. As I scrubbed my teeth in small circles, I turned to the side to see if my belly was pooched out yet. It was flat as ever, maybe even flatter. I wondered if I was losing weight, and amid the hundreds of other worries, wondered if the baby was still okay. Through the Internet on the front-desk computer, I found that Planned Parenthood took Medicaid, but I had to get to the Department of Human Services to apply, and it was at least five miles away. Gauging by my walk time to the library, it would take me at least an hour and a half. Only being able to make one errand per day was frustrating.

Someone knocked on the door, and I froze, wondering if it was Trex. He was supposed to be at work, but I couldn’t think of who else it would be. I walked into the entry and held one eye shut to look through the peephole. It was Stavros.

“Yes?” I asked.

“Morning, sunshine. Think you can handle things by yourself today? Tilde switched with Ander today, but she has a respiratory virus or something and Ander has a thing, so I need someone for the three to eleven.” The chain jingled and the lock clicked as I opened the door. Stavros gasped. “You look like hell. You sick, too?”

I shook my head. “No,” I said quickly. “No, I’m fine.”

“Maya can work until three. She’s typically the day shifter on weekends and she fills in. She needs the hours, so that’s covered, thank goodness.”

“I’m not sure how to close out my shift. Tilde was supposed to show me that tonight.”

“I can help you. Ander said you’ll do fine on the night shift. Said you were still in the lobby at midnight.”

“Um…”

“I’ll make sure he comes in early to help. We’re expecting more hotshots, anyway.”

I was relieved he didn’t need me to admit that I wasn’t ready to close out on my own. “More hotshots?”

He nodded. “Don’t worry. You’ve got this.”

I nodded, watching Stavros make his way back down the hall. My stomach lurched, and I ran to the bathroom, falling to my knees and heaving. Nothing came up, and I hadn’t closed the lid from the last time I was sick. Bean was determined to remind me I was pregnant. Alone, on the floor, sick and tired, it was easier to feel like I’d traveled to another planet rather than another state. Downtime had mostly consisted of reading and sleeping, but moments like this reminded me I had no one. I wondered if Shawn was looking for me, if Carly was worried, if Mom had even bothered to call. The wives on base had probably created twenty different scenarios for why I left, what happened to me, and where I went.

I flushed the toilet again, closed the lid, washed my hands, and brushed my teeth for a second time. The clock on the nightstand read noon. No wonder Stavros was surprised I’d just woken up, and no wonder I was so sick. I had to feed Bean.

I got dressed and walked down the hall, hoping there was still food left over from breakfast. As soon as I rounded the corner, I smelled it. Greasy, cheesy pizza. The hotshots were hovering around long, rectangular tables covered with one pizza box after another.

“Darby,” Zeke called.

“What’s all this?” I asked.

“Lunch, compliments of the City of Colorado Springs. Hungry?”

“Starving,” I said. “Can I really?”

“Yeah,” he said, leading me to the tables. He grabbed a plate and put it in my hands, the Styrofoam feeling flimsy in my hands. “Are you a pepperoni fan? There’s one with mushrooms, too…but…gross. We got sausage. We got Hawaiian.” I made a face, and he laughed. “Supreme?”

I nodded. “And pepperoni. With mushrooms, please.”

Zeke’s smile faded, and he loaded my plate like he disapproved of my choice, and then walked me to a table. “Water or soda?”

“Water, but you don’t have to…”

Before I could protest, Zeke was already halfway across the room, greeting his crew as they passed. Zeke returned, sitting next to me with a bottle of water. To his chagrin, another hotshot sat next to me, too.

“Who’s this?” he asked.

“Darby. Go away,” Zeke grumbled.

I took a bite, ignoring their spat. In that moment, the pizza and only the pizza was important.

“Randon Watts,” Zeke’s friend said, holding out his hand. I didn’t take it, instead shoving a big bite in my mouth.

“She’s eating, Watts. Leave her alone.”

Watts chuckled, watching me with amusement. “Like a champ. Is she training for a pizza-eating contest?”

Zeke turned his attention to me, his eyebrows shooting up. I was one slice down and starting on the second one.

“Are you from here?” Watts asked. He had the hotshot beard, but his dark sideburns and about two inches of the hair above his ears were shaved, all the way to the other ear. The hair on top was longer. He watched me with the familiar spark of desire in his dark eyes, even as I shoved food into my face.

I shook my head, chewing. Mama would have grabbed my face until I spat the food out, forcing me to start over and eat like a lady…even now. But Mama’s priority was Frank and his son, and my priority was Bean. It didn’t matter if I behaved as a lady, or if she forgave me for taking Dad away from her, or for taking her only son, the light of her life—and mine—my little brother, Chase. My sins before were no longer important, or even if I made things right. Bean was my salvation in more ways than one.

“No,” I said, taking another bite. I imagined I looked like someone marooned on a deserted island for a decade, chewing quickly and checking my surroundings like a wild animal.

Watts raised an eyebrow. “Okay, then. I’ll just go check in with Chief.”

“You do that,” Zeke murmured. When Watts left, Zeke turned to me. “I’m sorry about that.” He handed me a napkin.

I used it, swallowing the last bite of pizza before I spoke. “Why are you sorry?”

“I know you don’t like people bugging you, and it seems like every time we talk, one of the guys tries to be funny. They’re just giving me a hard time.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “Because I’m talking to a pretty girl, I guess. I don’t really…date.”

“This isn’t a date.”

“No, I know,” he said, fumbling for words that might save him. “It doesn’t matter how many times I explain. They enjoy it.”

“They enjoy giving you a hard time? Why don’t you date?”

“I haven’t since…Damn, this is weird.”

I turned to face him, wiping my mouth one last time. “Only if you’re a serial killer or something.”

“What? No. Nothing like that. It’s just…my ex…we’d been dating since the eighth grade. We broke up not long after I joined the Alpines a couple of years ago.”

“Oh,” I said. The part of me that had been trying so hard not to care was failing. The look in Zeke’s eyes brought to the surface something I’d buried deep inside. It doesn’t matter how someone disappears from your life. Whether it’s death or hate or something in between, loss is loss. “And you haven’t dated since?”

“Once or twice. Nothing’s stuck.”

“Well,” I said, gathering our empty plates and dirty napkins. “It wasn’t you.”

“It was the job. It was a lot of things,” he said.

“Still not you.” I patted him on the shoulder with my free hand before heading toward the trash can.

“We still on for a movie?” he asked.

I paused. “Uh…I work three to eleven until next week. When I start my regular shift, I can.”

“What is your regular shift?”

“Nights. Eleven to seven.”

“Ouch. Well, I think we go out tomorrow morning. We’ll catch one when I get back.”

I remembered what Stavros said about some of the men not coming back. I tossed the trash into the bin and returned to Zeke. He stood, and I hugged him. He wrapped his arms around my middle and squeezed me tight. Having another man’s arms around me felt strange, and for half a second, an old worry surfaced. Shawn wouldn’t see. He had no idea, and he never would. I tightened my grip around Zeke’s neck and then released him, looking up into his eyes. “You be careful out there.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, a satisfied grin on his face.

I returned to my room, gathering the few dirty clothes I had, and taking them to the laundry. The large room full of washers and dryers and folding tables was just a few doors down from my room, and the staff eyed me as I took my things to an empty machine.

“Is this okay?” I asked the woman closest to me. She was about Mama’s age, with bronzed skin and dark wrinkles around her mouth, the kind smokers get. One of her front teeth was bordered with gold, and her dark, frizzy hair easily escaped from the banana clip in her hair.

“You’re the new girl?” she asked, with a thick Mexican accent.

I nodded.

“Go ahead,” she said, nodding to the washer in front of me. “Be back in fifteen minutes.”

“Thank you,” I said, tossing in the clothes and then looking around for detergent.

The woman handed me a pastel pink bottle. “Goes here, like this,” she said, pulling out the soap bin. She showed me where to pour the detergent, then she shut the bin and showed me which buttons to push.

“Thank you so much,” I said. “What’s your name?” I glanced down to her badge. She covered the name, Ann, before speaking. “Sylvia.” She pointed to the others. “Juana, Maria, and that’s my daughter, Rosa.”

“Nice to meet you. All of you. I’m sure we’ll see each other again.”

“You’re the one staying in one hundred?” Sylvia asked.

“I am.”

“I can tidy it up for you. If you’d like.”

“Oh, that’s so nice. I think it’s okay for now.”

“You sure?”

I nodded. “I’ll be right back.” I pushed out the door and rushed to my room, using the key before shoving at the door. I couldn’t get to the bathroom fast enough. The smell of the detergent made me instantly nauseous. I stood in front of the toilet, trying to calm my stomach, but with uncontrollable force, my stomach heaved, and all the greasy pizza I’d just inhaled projected from my mouth and splashed so hard in the toilet, the water splashed my face.

Once it was over, I sat with my back against the wall, the floor feeling wonderfully cool beneath my backside. As soon as my clothes were finished, I was going to take another nap, try to eat again, and then go to work. All I wanted to do was to lie down and close my eyes and sleep until this part of the pregnancy was over. I touched my stomach and spoke aloud: “Give me a break, Bean. Please? I’m trying my best.”