But this was my child, and this was about my child's well-being. And if being around an influence like Dorothy was going to make my child turn out like her, I would fight whatever fights were necessary to keep them away.
For good, if that was what it came down to.
“Okay. Everyone just calm down,” Michael said. “We’re here to have a nice family dinner and see how Hailey is doing. Hailey, how is your pregnancy going?”
“It’s shit,” I said.
Everyone fell silent as Dorothy and I stared at one another. I did not want to be here another second. I had lost my appetite, I was exhausted, I still had paint sitting on the back of my neck that I could feel taunting me, and I was ready to go home. I wanted to take a warm bath, lie in bed, dream about all of the wonderful artwork I could create that would help to alleviate my raging emotions, and go through more applications for the person I had to hire. My hips ached, I could feel my boobs chafing again, and the heartburn that I knew would plague me all night was rising up the back of my throat.
Bryan’s hand slipping into mine pulled me from the staring contest I was having with his mother. I looked over at him, and his dazzling eyes had a calming effect on me. I stepped out from in front of my chair and leaned into him, his hands massaging my shoulders as he held me close. He placed a chaste kiss on my forehead as I sighed into his chest, my body wanting him to hold me closer than my stomach would allow.
I couldn’t even hug Bryan properly when I needed him the most.
“We’re leaving,” Bryan said.
“Son, just sit down. I really want to know how you guys are doing. We haven’t even talked about the tour yet,” Michael said.
“You’re more than welcome to come to the house and talk anytime, Dad. You know this. Our house is as open to you guys as your house is supposed to be to us,” Bryan said.
“Don’t you want them to stay, Dorothy?” Michael asked. “Don’t you want to hear about their travels?”
But Dorothy stayed silent, sitting in her chair and pouting like a four-year-old.
“Michael, I’d love to talk with you anytime about the European tour. I’d love to tell you all about Barcelona. It was my favorite stop,” I said.
“Maybe I could come over this weekend. I’ll bring decaf coffee,” Michael said.
“That stuff tastes like diesel fuel,” I said, grinning. “Milkshakes?”
“Milkshakes it is,” Michael said.
“And mother?” Bryan asked.
Dorothy panned her gaze over to her son, her eyes glazed over and vacant. In another world and at another time, I would have taken pity on her. I knew she was grieving. I knew she was still processing what happened with John. The stuff that Michael uncovered when he was pulling the strings he’d pulled were nothing short of blatantly disgusting. Even as I wasn’t a mother yet, I could never imagine the pain of losing a child, and I hoped I never had to. But her words and her tone and the way she addressed me were inexcusable, grieving or not.
“Until you can apologize sincerely to Hailey, we won’t be back, and you won’t be welcome,” Bryan said.
“I will not apologize when I have done nothing wrong. Hailey is actively isolating this family from anything having to do with that child, and you can’t even see it because you’re so blinded by whatever love you think you have for her. But you will see your mistake, sweetheart. I just hope it isn’t beyond repair by that point,” Dorothy said.
Bryan took my hand and led me toward the door as Michael got out of his seat. I couldn’t believe what Dorothy had just said. I thought the anger and animosity were gone. I thought all of this was put behind us. I thought the distance we’d put between all of us with this tour would’ve helped everyone to screw their heads on straight, but it only seemed like Dorothy had lost hers.
Michael strode over to us and helped me get my coat on, even though it was the beginning of summer. Whenever I became angry, especially now, my body would run cold. I was shivering as Michael helped me with my coat, and he pulled me in for a hug before he relinquished me into the night.
“I’ll see you soon, Hailey. Gather up all those stories for me and have them at the ready. Barcelona is somewhere I have yet to travel,” Michael said.
“I’ll be ready and waiting,” I said, grinning.
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. For Dorothy and what she said.”
“It’s not you who has to apologize, Michael. It’s Dorothy. But it doesn’t sound like she will. Either way, it’s not your problem,” I said.
“Come on, Hailey. Let’s get going,” Bryan said.
I hugged Michael's neck one last time before I made my way to the car. The ride was silent, and I could tell Bryan was fuming. I simply could not believe what Dorothy had said to me. Taking my child away from me? Did she really think I was that terrible of a person? I was going to love this child with everything I had. I was reading every single parenting book I could get my hands on. I was asking women for advice and trying to figure out whether I wanted to use cloth diapers, to breastfeed or use formula, to use daycare or work from home. I was already trying to be the best mother I could be, and I hadn't even given birth yet.
I just didn't know what had caused her to turn on me like she had.
We pulled up to the house, and I slammed out of the car. I stopped at the door and unlocked it, shoving my way into the house. Without shutting the door behind me, I shed my clothes and made my way upstairs, not caring about the mess I was leaving behind. I was upset, I was still dirty, even though I have taken a shower before we left for dinner, and I wanted to be left alone.
But before I could even start the water running for my bath, I heard a knock on the door behind me.
“Can I get you anything?” Bryan asked. “You didn’t eat much at dinner.”
“Not very hungry,” I said as I turned on the water.
“You know I’ll always stand by you, right?” he asked.
“I know.”
“No matter what.”
“I get it,” I said.
“Do you want to talk?” he asked.
“No, Bryan. I don’t want to talk. I don’t want to talk about the fact that your mother only wants to be a part of things if she can control them. I don’t want to talk about the fact that my budding relationship with your father makes me want my father around too. I don't want to talk about the fact that our child will never have stable relationship with their grandparents, and I certainly don’t want to talk about how I wish I could throw your mother into a flaming volcano.”
“Does it have to be flaming?” Bryan asked.
I allowed a giggle to slip through my lips as I stepped into the warm water of the bath.
“Look, our child is going to have us. And who knows what’ll happen with your parents in the next year or two? You guys are still talking even though they haven’t come to visit yet. Maybe you just need to build up that bond with them again.”
“I guess,” I said.
“Maybe they want to give you time to digest the fact that they’re back in your life. They were here a lot when you were battling cancer. Maybe they want to give you some distance.”
“But I’m pregnant. And there are just times where I want my mom,” I said.
“Have you told her that?” Bryan asked.
“No,” I said.
“Then how can you expect them to know that?”
“Because she’s my mother. Isn’t that what happens? Mothers read their daughters’ minds or something?” I asked.
“No,” Bryan said, chuckling. “That’s not how it works. Ever.”
“How would you know? You’re not a girl.”
“By the same principle, fathers should be able to read their sons’ minds.”
“Nope, not how that works.”
“And why not?” he asked.
“Because men are stupid.”
“I love it when you pout,” he said.
Bryan leaned over to put a kiss on the tip of my nose, and I wrapped my arms around his neck. I pulled him into the bath, giggling as he tried to catch himself on the edge. His clothes were soaked, and his hair was matted to his face. But all I did was spread my legs so I could hold him closer to me. He turned around in my arms and caressed my skin, pulling goosebumps up all over my body as I looked deeply into his eyes. I saw my home when I looked at him. I felt alive when I was against him. No matter what we had endured and no matter what had been done to us by the other, I knew we were destined to be together.
I knew he was the man for me.
“Besides,” Bryan said, “I think I’m going to like not having dinner at my parents’ any longer.”
“Oh, you will, huh?” I asked.
“I think we should designate their dinner nights as our nights. One night a month, you and me, no matter what happens between us.”
“And what will happen with at this ‘us night’?” I asked.
“I can think of a few things,” Bryan said, grinning.
“But what’ll we do with the rest of the night?” I asked.
“Who told you I couldn’t go all night?”
Bryan pressed his lips to mine as his hands wrapped around my body. I giggled into his skin, allowing the events from dinner to fall to the recesses of my mind. Bryan gathered me against his body and leaned toward the other side of the tub, spreading his legs wide to make room for my growing body. I lost myself in him. I lost myself in the feel of him. I allowed myself to pretend everything was okay. I allowed myself to believe that my parents were only giving me space and that Dorothy didn't hate me and that this child would come into a functioning, healthy family that would love it and cherish it no matter what it did.