| Subject: The Ubiquitous Mr. Lovegrove Epilogue1 |
Author:
Schnee
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Date Posted: 09:17:22 07/22/01 Sun
In reply to:
Schnee
's message, "The Ubiquitous Mr. Lovegrove" on 08:31:53 07/22/01 Sun
Epilogue
White puffs of cloud wisp over the wings of the plane, as we fly above them into the deep blue sky. I breathe a sigh, thinking of all the whirlwind activity of these last few months. Budapest, Greece, Dehli, Tibet. Each place with it’s own memories and special moments.
Michael gave me the world, while giving me his heart.
I touch the gold ring on my finger, tracing the three interwoven threads, knowing that its mate rests on Michael’s ring finger. A pair of wedding bands minus the wedding. Instead a simple exchange with few words. A promise between two people with only God as their witness.
Placing my hand atop my ever-growing belly, I marvel at the wonder of it all. In three short months there will be a tiny infant depending on us to care for it. Meanwhile, this baby is already making its presence known, moving and kicking at all hours of the day and night. If this is any indication of the future, he, or she, will be a very active child. Probably taking after me.
“What are you thinking?” Michael’s voice, barely above a whisper, breaks into my consciousness. Returning to his seat, he looks at me expectantly.
“Just that our child appears to be very active. Makes me wonder whether he or she will be just as active outside the womb.” I answer a bit pointedly, as I’m reminded of that sore topic and I still feel the need to show my disapproval at Michael’s actions from several weeks ago.
The scene remains etched in my mind as if chiseled into stone. The doctor with the transducer in her hand, scanning. Her gentle voice asking if we wanted to know the sex of the child. I immediately say ‘no’ followed by Michael’s ‘yes.’
Despite the evidence of my disapproval written plainly on my face, Michael consulted the doctor outside the room, learning the sex of our child.
Later, when I insisted that he would not be able to keep this a secret, and that he should just tell me, Michael refused.
“I know it means more to you to wait until the child’s birth.”
Actually, I did want to know. But at the same time I didn’t. I wanted us both to not know together. To share the excitement of wondering. Instead, he knows.
“But why didn’t you wait? So we both could be surprised together. Why did you need to know?”
Feeling hurt, my voice quivered with disappointment. It was as if nothing had changed--Michael was still in control, holding all the answers while leaving me in the dark. I began to question whatever happened to ‘no secrets?’ Would he ever treat me as his partner--his equal, rather than always trying to protect me?
Michael paused, looking reflective before answering. “I can’t explain it. I just needed to know.”
“Did you know with Adam?” I asked, unsatisfied with Michael’s answer. I knew it was a low blow, but I was struggling to understand. Perhaps if I did know the reason why Michael felt such a need to go against my wishes, I could deal with all the hurt feelings that resulted both then and now.
“No.” Sensing the sadness in his eyes, I had immediately regretted my question. It was cruel, and I knew it. But I felt Michael's unilateral decision was just as cruel.
“No, with Adam, when the doctor placed him in my arms—the emotions that rushed over me were like nothing I had ever experienced. It blindsided me. I wasn’t sure how to handle it all.” Michael swallowed hard, as though the intensity of those feelings was resurfacing. “I suddenly had a son. A little person that was dependent on me. At that moment ‘living’ began to matter again.”
“And you think knowing will prepare you for that moment with our child?” I asked struggling to understand.
“I’m not sure. The circumstances are different.”
Yeah, the circumstances are different, alright!
And so the conversation had ended. Each time I venture towards the topic, Michael veers us in a different direction, unwilling to reopen the discussion. Frustrated by the fact that he knows and I don’t, I keep emphasizing that schism. Though I know I should just leave the whole thing alone.
This time is no different. Making no comment about the pointedness of my statement, Michael lifts the armrest between us. His arm brushes my neck as he stretches it across my shoulders, motioning for me to lean against him. Instead, I stiffen my shoulders, not quite ready to forgive him so easily.
“It will be a long flight. Some rest will do you good, ‘Kita.” Michael murmurs, sounding weary, as if he could use some rest himself.
“I’m fine. Really.” I answer, turning away from him, peering toward the window again. Slowly, his arm slips away. I want to say more, but instead I bite my tongue. With the silence between us, all that can be heard is the noise of the other passengers. It ‘s their presence that keeps me from saying anything more. Creating a scene will not help matters, though I wonder if it would not make me feel better.
In addition to the thick air of tension surrounding us, I began to feel my muscles tense in my midsection. Rubbing at the pain, I bite at my lip. My fingers massage the muscle, which feels as hard a rock, to no avail.
Witnessing my expression, Michael leans toward me with concern.
“What’s wrong?”
Begrudgingly I answer, “I’m fine, Michael. It’s just another of those Braxton-Hicks thingies. The doctor explained about them at my last visit. Within a few minutes the muscle will relax again. It’s happened a couple times before. It’s just uncomfortable.”
“You’ve never mentioned having them.”
“I didn’t? Guess it slipped my mind.” I answer feeling some satisfaction at having a few secrets of my own.
Michael lifts his left hand and places it atop both my hand and my round stomach, with a gentle rubbing motion.
“Three months will pass quickly, just as these last few have.”
Hearing the tone in his voice, I suspect Michael is trying to extend the olive branch. Or at least he’s trying to brush the crumbs under the carpet. I decide to make nice, rather than making the trip completely unbearable, and ask some of the more innocuous things that have been on my mind.
“Yes, time flies when you’re having fun. So what’s our plan for this trip? Will we be touring the museums and monuments? Or are we looking to enjoy the scenic outdoors?”
“Actually, I thought we would go home.”
“Home?”
~~~~~
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