On Becoming a Mother
On Becoming a Mother
Alice
I shouldn’t stay. I should go back to the Ambassador or perhaps to some other hotel where Sam won’t know where I’m staying. I should not forgive Rhys this time. He’s gone too far, not only by accusing me of sleeping with Sam, but by the way he so viciously confronted me about it and told me I had to leave Duskmoore.
Of course, I had no intention of sleeping with Sam. We were friends–or so I thought. Certainly nothing more than that. Yet, I can’t help but think that even if I did sleep with him, it should have been no concern of Rhys’s. I’d left this house. I’m a person, and I get to decide what I do, and he has no say in the matter.
Maybe I should have told Rhys as much when he was speaking to me that way. But his tone was so chilling, so angry, that I didn’t do an adequate job of defending myself at all.
Yet, here I am, walking back up to my room, having just told my friends that I would be staying in Duskmoore.
It’s possible I’m making a terrible mistake. A large part of me believes that I am. However, the look on their faces—Tiberius, Dr. Lombardi, and Naomi—was cheerful. I can feel the same joy in the house as I grasp the stair railing. It’s as though Duskmoore has let out a sigh of relief.
This is just temporary, I tell myself. I’m not going to stay if Rhys continues to treat me this way. In fact, the next time I speak with him, I’m going to tell him all those things I should have said when he was yelling at me. He’s going to hear that he has no right to dictate my life choices, whether or not I live under this roof.
But I’m not ready to do that, not just yet.
Right now, all I want is to retreat to my room, to sit on the comfortable chair by the window and watch the ocean waves kiss the shore. I grasp the smooth handle of my door and step into my room, feeling the welcoming familiarity warm me to my bones.
Though the day has just started, I slide off my shoes, gliding my feet into my soft bedroom slippers. It’s time to be comfortable. I have no plans to go anywhere today. Stopping to pick up the book beside my bed, an interesting historical novel I’ve been reading of late, I make my way over to the burgundy chair by the window.
I wrap my fingers around the window crank, turning it only slightly, just enough to let in some chilled, fresh air and to better hear the pleasant rhythm of the waves below. It’s dark, cloudy, and misty out today, making it difficult to see the ocean. But the sound takes me back to more pleasant times and helps wipe away some of the pain in my heart. I lower myself onto the chair, my book in my lap, and inhale deeply, blowing the air out slowly through my lips.
And in this tranquility, I speak to my mother. “I wish you were here,” I tell her, lowering my hand to place it on my belly. “I can’t feel this child inside, not yet. But I wish to ask you questions about what it was like to be pregnant with me. Were you frightened? I am, and not just because this child is a vampire. That is an entirely new concern that I cannot wrap my mind around just yet.”
A wave crashes against the shoreline below, louder than usual, just as a light breeze glides through the window, catching the edges of the curtain so it flutters gently.
“I’m frightened because I don’t know if I’m strong enough to be a mother,” I admit. “It’s a brave thing, bringing a child into this world. I’m terrified of being responsible for a person’s entire life. Did you feel this way with me?”
The sea continues its rhythm, offering me no response.
“I suppose you did,” I assume. Now that I’m going to be a mother, I understand how many things parents choose not to share with their children. This fear is one of them.
I haven’t done a good job of standing up for myself lately, not with Rhys or with Sam. A mother needs to be strong enough to defend her child no matter what they might face. I hope I suddenly find enough strength through the love I’ll feel for him and her.
“Is that how it worked for you?” I ask my mother. “I think all these questions are hitting me at once. I haven’t had much time to process the fact that I’m going to be a mother.”
It hasn’t even been a full day, and the hours I have known have been full of uncertainty and traumatic experiences.
I rise, setting the book aside on a nearby table. How foolish I was to think I could concentrate on reading right now. I only want to think about the baby, and about what life will be like when I finally get to hold him or her in my arms.
I step over toward the open window, the cool breeze grounding me in the present. I can speak to the ocean all day, but my mother will never be here to guide me through this. I will need to find the strength to make the right choices by myself.
Still, I feel the pain of her absence. “I miss you,” I whisper into the breeze.
Setting my hands on the windowsill, I gaze out into the distance. A small break in the clouds has allowed the sun to peek through for a moment, just enough to clear some of the mist. I can see the waves now, shimmering in the fleeting light. Offshore, they dance in peaks and valleys, gliding toward the shore as though they hope to find sanctuary there.
The sun retreats as the dark clouds close in around each other, and the next breeze that finds the open window sends a chill through me. I crank the window closed, securing the latch. The waves are quieter with the window closed, but I still hear their rhythm. It’s gentler, and I close my eyes to inhale another breath.
I don’t know what the future will bring. Maybe Rhys and I will reconcile. Maybe we won’t. I may live here in Duskmoore forever, or I may leave tomorrow. But I know one thing. I will do what I must to give this child the best life I can.
Girl or boy, I hope to run with them along a beach, building sandcastles, wading our feet in the refreshing saltwater. I close my eyes and imagine it, holding my hand to my belly once again. “I will give you the life you deserve,” I promise.
Settling back into the chair, my thoughts return to Rhys. I can imagine what his reaction may have been when he found out that the child is his, that it’s a vampire. Does he regret the words he spat at me? Is he also afraid of what kind of parent he is going to be?
I will never know how men feel when they find out they’re becoming a father. Without the child safe in their own bodies as women experience, what are their thoughts? Perhaps that is why men seem so overprotective... my stepfather excluded, of course.
Whatever Rhys feels, he is not sharing it with me.
Until he does, I don’t wish to think about it. I reach over to retrieve my book. I’ll try to lose myself within its pages, after all.
I manage to get though two paragraphs before some light knocking on the door takes me out of the story, and I turn my head toward it. It’s too early for another meal. I don’t think it’s Naomi.
I rise, setting the book on the table upside down, still open to the page I’m reading, and make my way to answer the door. Whoever it is knocks again, slightly harder, quicker this time.
“Alice, it’s Rhys.”
I freeze, halfway to the door, but I do not speak. I don’t know if I’m ready to face him yet. I’ve tried to find my strength. It’s there, but I haven’t had enough time to process what I might want to say to him.
“Please, let me in, Alice.”
He doesn’t knock again. I know he is aware that I’m listening to him. Fear and uncertainty rush through my nerves. His voice sounds gentle, so perhaps he does not wish to argue.
But I cannot be sure, and I don’t want to put myself in a position where I can be insulted like that again. Given what he said in front of everyone downstairs, I can only imagine what he might say when we’re alone.
“Please, Alice,” he says again. “I only wish to speak to you. Can you please let me in?”
I close the distance to the door, placing a palm against it, pausing, deciding. Duskmoore no longer feels tense like it did when Rhys first confronted me. This might mean he is ready to speak to me calmly.
I turn the doorknob slowly, pulling back the door. Rhys stands there, his eyes softer than before, hopeful.
I gesture into the room to invite him inside.