Page 60 of Enough
I stop mid step and pause. “Gwen… what did you do?”
“Promise me.”
“I can’t. Just tell me what you did.”
“I won’t tell you unless you promise. So promise.”
“Dammit, Gwen!” I’m filled with dread. “Fine, I promise.”
“Cooper asked if he could give Nick your number and I said yes.”
“What?” I sit down in the middle of the stairs and try to breathe. “Why would you…? Why would he…?”
“Before you start freaking out, I need to tell you something. Nick’s never been married and he’s very much single.”
I can’t breathe. I don’t recognize the feeling in my chest. It’s not an ache, but it kind of feels like one. It’s not anger, but it’s definitely an emotion because I see red, then blue, then every other color before I realize what I’m feeling is something I don’t want to feel. It’s something I told myself I’d never let myself feel again. It’s hope.
One week later
YOU KNOW HOW when you’re waiting for a phone call or maybe a text, and you jump with every beep, every buzz, and every little ping? That’s me. I’m insane. Ever since Gwen told me she gave Cooper permission to give Nick my number, it’s all I can think about. A week has passed by and nothing. A week of my staring at the phone, sleeping with the phone, and even taking the phone to the bathroom with me. I’m not sure where my pride went, but I’m convinced I somehow turned back the hands of time to being a teenage girl again, waiting for a call, nervous, anxious, and giddy.
After a week of stressing, I realize I’m not sure how I feel about talking to Nick or if it’s even a good idea. After everything I’ve been through, the one thing I should know by now is that I need to trust my gut. Young Everly London had a good head on her shoulders. I should have trusted her instincts to get away from Mike when he said he didn’t want Kale and not married Mike when I felt the twist in my stomach at his crappy marriage proposal. She was right to have doubts, and I didn’tlisten. As I revisit my thoughts, I become confident that young Everly was right about Nick Rowen too. I decide I’m glad he hasn’t called. It’s another sign.
The kids are at their dad’s tonight, and I’m drying my hair and getting ready for work. Tomorrow, I’ll finally move to the floor where I really want to be, Labor and Delivery. I know it seems odd that I would want to work there after losing my baby, but I want to be able to help other people the way Nurse Patty helped me. Plus, I adore kids, and the happiness babies bring fills me up inside. Gwen works in Pediatrics and I know I’ll be seeing her from time to time when and if we ever work the same shift. She hates nights, but right now with the kids so young, it’s the best thing for all of us if I continue to work them.
My mind is focused on getting through my last night in oncology and I’m praying Mr. Orton gets some good news on his test results today, when my phone rings. I casually glance down to a number I don’t recognize. It doesn’t even faze me because my thoughts are preoccupied with work. I continue to dry my hair when my phone beeps to let me know I missed a call and have a message. I finish blow drying and styling my hair and start to apply my makeup. It’s too quiet. I miss the kids. I decide I need some noise, so I lift my phone to turn on my music. On my home screen I see the notification of the missed call and message. It’s probably another telemarketer. I press play and turn on speakerphone, resting my phone on the sink and pulling my eyeliner pencil to my eyelid.
I recognize his voice on the first consonant of the first word he says, and I drop my pencil into the sink.
“Hi, Everly. This is Nick Rowen.” I hear the smile in his voice and my knees lock. “I just got back into town andCooper gave me your number. I’d really like to talk to you. I’d love to catch up and see what you’re up to these days. It’s been way too long. You sound just the same as I remember. Give me a call when you get a chance. Bye.”
I slide down to the floor and replay the message six times. The first two times I feel giddy with excitement. The third time I try to decide if his voice is deeper or if it’s the quality of sound on my phone. The fourth time I start to wonder what it meant when he seemed to sigh after saying Cooper gave him my number. By the fifth time I convince myself that Cooper probably told him Iwantedhim to call me. And by the sixth time I’m certain he felt pressured to call. He didn’t sound very enthusiastic. He probably felt like he had to call me out of guilt.
As I’m getting dressed, I imagine his face if he were to see me again. I’m sure he’d cringe in disgust and horror. I’ve had two kids, and my boobs aren’t what they used to be. Plus, I still have a faint scar from cesareans and the fat pouch over the scar seems like it will never go away. I’m not cute and perky anymore. My thighs are heavier and cellulite has invaded my ass. I’m old and used up. As soon as the thoughts invade my mind, I hear my inner voice yell “Negative Nancy” at me. How quickly I start to hate myself as soon as I imagine being in the presence of a man again. Have I always been this way? Have I always questioned myself, or did I let Mike do that to me? Did I letmedo that to me?
I hear Grandma Kay’s voice in my head and I pull off my scrubs to stand naked in front of the mirror. I really look at myself. I still have long, dark brown hair that falls perfectly straight over my shoulders without my having to iron it. That’s a plus. I step back to get a better view of my legs. I’ve lostsome weight, and I’m proud of the calf muscles running has given me. I may not be perfect, but I’m healthy and in pretty good shape. I have a lot to feel good about. As I pull on my scrubs and tie my hair into a ponytail, I smile at myself. I like me. I like me a lot.
More than the physical stuff, there’s the mental stuff too. I went back to school and became a nurse, and I work daily on being the best mom I possibly can. I know I’ll never be the best mom in the world, but I love my kids more than anything and I always try to put them first.
I stuff my phone into my back pocket and head down the stairs for work. The pluses and minuses have a dialogue within my head. I don’t know why I feel so insecure after all the progress I’ve made, but I don’t like all the self-doubt I feel at the sound of his voice. I never felt like I was enough for him, just like I didn’t feel I was enough for Mike. I think it’s easy to feel stronger until you’re put to the test to prove you are. I’m not sure I even know what to say to him. I need to think. I’ll call him back later. Maybe…
FALLING ASLEEP IS a lot harder than usual after my shift. I only sleep for a few hours before my alarm sounds, telling me I need to get it together. The kids will be home soon, and I have to work again tonight.
I force myself away from my soft pillow and tread wearily into the bathroom. I don’t feel very well, and I’m certain it’s because I didn’t get enough sleep. Then I figure out why. I just got my period. Damn. As soon as I see the blood, the familiarpangs of sadness invade my senses. She would have been born by now. I’d be changing diapers and kissing tiny little toes. My heart aches. I try to not let myself focus on being sad for too long. I take a quick shower to feel better and pop some ibuprofen for the sudden cramps. Awesome. My first night in Labor and Delivery and I have my period. Whoever said being a woman was lovely obviously didn’t have cramps at the time.
At 3:15P.M.on the dot, the kids burst through the door. Their voices echo through the house and I have to smile to myself. I miss them when they’re gone.
“I’m hungry,” Kale announces, dropping his book bag and entering the kitchen.
“Well, hi yourself! How was school?”
“No homework,” he says with a grin.
Marlow sighs and also drops her bag to the floor. I have two pages of math.”
“Ha-ha-ha-ha!” Kale sings to annoy her.
“Shut up!” she shouts back.
