Getting Her Back

Someone calls her name from around the corner, and she curses under her breath, running off to solve whatever party crisis just happened. I take a deep breath. She doesn’t know that she’s being insensitive. It’s okay. I duck my head and force my feelings down and away. I seal them in an iron box so hidden that they won’t come out during the party. I can do that for one night. I fold as many napkins as I can, and when my fingers are tired, I go back out and mingle a little with the guests. Some are my parents’ friends, some are people I knew from high school, and some are Celia’s old friends.

I grab some snacks from the giant banquet table and wander around the edge of the yard by the moat. My mother might not be good at judging my emotional state, but she could put most professional party planners to shame. “Audrey!” my mother calls, and I head back toward the house. She grabs my hand. “It’s time!”

“She’s here?”

“Yes!”

The crowd gathers in front of the little bridge from the house, and we all get quiet.

“Hello?” Celia’s voice echoes from the house.

My mother calls back, “Out here, sweetie!”

Celia appears in the doorway, and her eyes go wide with shock when she sees us, just as we all shout “SURPRISE!”

She comes across the bridge, looking around in shock, and everyone’s cheering. I get a little teary, because this is amazing. My sister is great, and even though we’re just now getting closer, I realize that this is a big deal for her. She was the problem child, and was never celebrated like this before. No wonder she had no idea it was going to be a surprise because she would never expect it. My mother gives her a hug, and over her shoulder Celia looks at me, and I see her utter shock.

I try to give her a smile through the tears I can’t seem to stop. She hugs my father and then she finds her way to me. She hugs me tight. “This is crazy,” she says in my ear. “You knew about this?”

“Yeah,” I laugh. “It’s great. And you deserve it.”

She laughs too. “I don’t know about that, but I’ll take it.” Pulling back, she takes me in and I must be a mess. “Are you okay?”

“No,” I manage to say. “But there’s time for us to talk about that. Enjoy your party.”

“You sure?” she asks, and my chest aches with the genuine concern that she’s showing.

I nod. “Yeah. We’ll have lunch soon.”

“Okay.” She hugs me again before going to a cluster of her friends and pouncing on them for hugs.

Slipping away, I duck into the house. I need a minute. The bathroom that I used to share with Celia is empty, and I lock myself inside so I can let the tears fall. I don’t know why this is happening now. I’m so emotional that I could almost think I’m pregnant, but I’m not. The blood test came back, and Dr. Lang confirmed that there’s no baby. But it doesn’t seem to matter.

I don’t have a baby, and I can’t get Christian out of my head, and every time my mother talks the way she does, like getting pregnant is simple and easy it just…hurts. Sitting on the floor of the bathroom, I let the pain wash over me. Sometimes the only thing you can do is to feel it, and get it out of the way. Tissues are good too, and I keep my dress from being too smudged with my tears.

It’s good I was able to wait till now, at least with the party in full swing I won’t be missed. No one will come looking for me.

Hopefully.

My phone buzzes in my bag, and I look to see who it is. It’s Christian calling. Again. I can’t take it anymore—I answer it. “Christian, I need you to stop, please. It’s hard enough without all of this. You’ve made yourself clear, and I’m not strong enough to let you get me pregnant and nothing else.” My voice breaks and I hate myself for it. “So please, just stop.”

I hear him try to say something before I hang up, but it’s already done. It only makes me cry harder. I let it happen.

Finally, whatever crack opened up inside my chest and let out all this emotion seems to have bled out for now. I can breathe again, and I start the process of drying myself out, fixing my make-up so that I won’t be interrogated by Celia or Mom or any other well-meaning party guests. That’s only going to make me have to come back to this stupid bathroom.

Thank God for waterproof mascara.

Ellen is at the party when I come out of the house, and she doesn’t have to give me a second look. She just gives me a hug and leads me over to the dessert table. I laugh, but I don’t refuse the honey-drenched dough she shoves in my face.