Page 136
Story: Black Flag
“Then don’t.”
And he didn’t. He justsimply held me taking away the pain by just holding me.
“You know what reallysucks about this?”
“What’s that?” he askedhis hands finding mine.
“I’m going to miss TheBlack Keys concert.”
Jimi and Nancy hadbought me tickets to their concert in Grand Rapids but with being on bed rest,I’m sure it was out of the question now considering the concert was tonight.
“I’m sorry honey. Doyou want me to sing for you?”
With my head restingagainst his chest, Jameson began singing one of my favorite songs of theirs.The vibrations of his low raspy voice coursed through me, calming me.
He let out a chuckleinto my hair. “I don’t know the rest of the words.”
“Don’t worry, it wasperfect.” I assured him.
I felt the baby movingwhen he stopped singing, giggling at the spaz and then wincing when I felt thepain in my ribs.
“What’s so funny?”
“The baby,” I looked upat him. “He started moving when you stopped singing.”
“Oh really,” his handreached to my belly. “Do you think he’ll kick for me?”
Our little spaz didn’tdisappoint and kicked.
If this little flailingspaz had taught me anything so far, it was that we take our miracles where wefind them. You reach for the impossible, trading paint, brushing the wall andsometimes against all logic—you make it through to the lead and hold on for thewhite flag.
I was holding out forthe happy right now, my checkered flag, and having faith that it would. I hadfaith that this tiny miracle would get us through racing on the edge.
“There you are.” Emmagave me a nudge crawling in bed with me. “Where have you been my little beandip?”
This was Emma’s way ofentering my hospital room these days. As if I could actually run away.
I was fucking miserablewithout Jameson here. Emma and I spent most of the time making fun of otherpatients and nurses that would come through, and when we tired of that, I startedmaking fun of Emma.
Jameson had left onWednesday morning. The worst part was he left me here with Emma and Van.Everyone else had to be in Dover for the race.
I called Charlie andexplained what happened. I think he was high because he took it remarkablywell. After speaking with Andrea, she confirmed he was high and that his doctorhad prescribed marijuana to calm his nerves. Andrea freaked out about theaccident and wanted to come take care of me. I assured her Emma was about all Icould handle at the moment.
The good thing aboutEmma was you felt no self-pity, just annoyance. She had a way about her whereyou forgot about all your own shit and focused on how someone could be thatinsane.
On Sunday morning, Iwanted to kill her and burn the fucking wedding planner she constantly had inhand. I was depressed about planning the wedding because I knew I couldn’t goon a real honeymoon until after the baby was born. The honeymoon was the onething I was looking forward to. I still wanted to get married but I was havingmy own pity party regarding the honeymoon.
When she began talkingabout wedding dresses, I wanted to throw a snow globe at her head.Unfortunately for me, I didn’t have one handy.
Van spent a good partof the time in the room or right outside of it. I think he could only handleEmma in small doses as well. When she brought upvajazzlingmy girly pad prior to the wedding, Van quickly turned his head in order toavoid eye contact with both of us and then eventually excusedhimself.
I didn’t blame him.
Before Jameson left,they decided on a plan that Emma, Van, and I would drive back to Elma togetherwhen I was released.
Emma was beyond excitedabout this; she claimed a good road trip was exactly what we needed. I wasn’tsure who “we” was because Van and I sure as shit didn’t feel that way about aroad trip.
“Aren’t you superexcited about this?” She asked.
And he didn’t. He justsimply held me taking away the pain by just holding me.
“You know what reallysucks about this?”
“What’s that?” he askedhis hands finding mine.
“I’m going to miss TheBlack Keys concert.”
Jimi and Nancy hadbought me tickets to their concert in Grand Rapids but with being on bed rest,I’m sure it was out of the question now considering the concert was tonight.
“I’m sorry honey. Doyou want me to sing for you?”
With my head restingagainst his chest, Jameson began singing one of my favorite songs of theirs.The vibrations of his low raspy voice coursed through me, calming me.
He let out a chuckleinto my hair. “I don’t know the rest of the words.”
“Don’t worry, it wasperfect.” I assured him.
I felt the baby movingwhen he stopped singing, giggling at the spaz and then wincing when I felt thepain in my ribs.
“What’s so funny?”
“The baby,” I looked upat him. “He started moving when you stopped singing.”
“Oh really,” his handreached to my belly. “Do you think he’ll kick for me?”
Our little spaz didn’tdisappoint and kicked.
If this little flailingspaz had taught me anything so far, it was that we take our miracles where wefind them. You reach for the impossible, trading paint, brushing the wall andsometimes against all logic—you make it through to the lead and hold on for thewhite flag.
I was holding out forthe happy right now, my checkered flag, and having faith that it would. I hadfaith that this tiny miracle would get us through racing on the edge.
“There you are.” Emmagave me a nudge crawling in bed with me. “Where have you been my little beandip?”
This was Emma’s way ofentering my hospital room these days. As if I could actually run away.
I was fucking miserablewithout Jameson here. Emma and I spent most of the time making fun of otherpatients and nurses that would come through, and when we tired of that, I startedmaking fun of Emma.
Jameson had left onWednesday morning. The worst part was he left me here with Emma and Van.Everyone else had to be in Dover for the race.
I called Charlie andexplained what happened. I think he was high because he took it remarkablywell. After speaking with Andrea, she confirmed he was high and that his doctorhad prescribed marijuana to calm his nerves. Andrea freaked out about theaccident and wanted to come take care of me. I assured her Emma was about all Icould handle at the moment.
The good thing aboutEmma was you felt no self-pity, just annoyance. She had a way about her whereyou forgot about all your own shit and focused on how someone could be thatinsane.
On Sunday morning, Iwanted to kill her and burn the fucking wedding planner she constantly had inhand. I was depressed about planning the wedding because I knew I couldn’t goon a real honeymoon until after the baby was born. The honeymoon was the onething I was looking forward to. I still wanted to get married but I was havingmy own pity party regarding the honeymoon.
When she began talkingabout wedding dresses, I wanted to throw a snow globe at her head.Unfortunately for me, I didn’t have one handy.
Van spent a good partof the time in the room or right outside of it. I think he could only handleEmma in small doses as well. When she brought upvajazzlingmy girly pad prior to the wedding, Van quickly turned his head in order toavoid eye contact with both of us and then eventually excusedhimself.
I didn’t blame him.
Before Jameson left,they decided on a plan that Emma, Van, and I would drive back to Elma togetherwhen I was released.
Emma was beyond excitedabout this; she claimed a good road trip was exactly what we needed. I wasn’tsure who “we” was because Van and I sure as shit didn’t feel that way about aroad trip.
“Aren’t you superexcited about this?” She asked.
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