• Christina Knight couldn’t help but smile on the drive home from the doctor’s office. Despite the grey and dreary weather she kept smiling with her slightly crooked teeth. The rain hadn’t passed yet, even after a full two days of it. Sometimes it was just a drizzle, as it was right now, but other times it was a downpour that had some people convinced that God was bringing the second flood: trying to wipe out his disgraceful human race, again. But even thoughts of God despising her couldn’t cause Christina to come crashing down from her cloud. She was flying, flying like the cartoon people in the REDBULL commercials. Christina had wings, the doctor had given her wings, the little thimble sized mass of blood and forming tissue living inside her womb had given her wings. She was soaring high above the elephant colored clouds, soaring high above the airplane that passed above the clouds.
    It had been a routine checkup. Just something she was required to do yearly, something she had done since she was just a toddler. Christina didn’t mind going to the doctor, she didn’t mind the cold stethoscope being pressed just above her left breast and then being pressed against the back of her ribs. Her doctor, Dr. White, was a nice enough man. He was a man who loved his job—caring for people ranging from ages 10 to 60.
    He was the type of man whose smile always broadened when asked about his little twin girls, ages 5, and his loving wife whom had attended medical school with him, stayed in touch with him for 5 years before asking him out on their first date. They had married 3 months later, and that was 10 years ago. He had black hair that was always combed back with water, but there was that one strand of coal colored dead skin cells that popped out of place when he was at work before proceeding to bounce against his forehead. He would run his fingers through his hair and always try to tame it. Put it back in place, and it would obey for a few more minutes before popping back out and resting against his forehead. He had dark, molten chocolate colored eyes that were a little more on the almond shaped side. His eyebrows were thick and black, but not real bushy. His nose wasn’t a nose you would remember, but it was unique in ways that a nose it unique. The tip was a little on the flat side and the bridge sloped easily. His mouth was a little further down that it should normally be but it suited him because he always wore a grin that lifted his mouth up. He was a happy-go-lucky kinda guy who looked to the bright side of life. He always wore a white dress shirt with either short or long sleeves and he usually wore the shirts with either a pair of faded blue jeans or black suite pants. It all depended on the type of day.
    Today when he saw Christina he was wearing a freshly ironed white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and buttoned all the way up. He was wearing a new pair of black jeans—a little big so he had to wear a belt. When the usual exam was over he asked if she had been sick recently or feeling sick. Oh yes, actually, for the last few weeks I’ve had an awful headache and been a little nauseous. Once or twice I threw up in the early morning… And I’m a little over a week behind schedule. Dr. White had nodded his head officially, scribbled something down on the piece of paper on his clipboard before swiveling around in his chair and typing something on the computer under her file. Then he turned and said he needed her to pee in a cup. He opened a cabinet under the desk and pulled out a clear little plastic cup—the kind used for drinking at lawn parties. She took the cup, completely oblivious and headed for the bathroom. She hadn’t been asked to pee in a cup for 10 years now and she was a little nervous. When she returned 3 minutes later she handed him the cup, blushing like a school girl when he took the cup from her hands. The cup was filled a little less than halfway with the yellow liquid because Christina hadn’t needed to pee. He told her to wait a few more minutes then he left the room, closing the door behind him.
    A little less than 10 minutes later he returned with a smile plastered on his face; the kinda smile he wore when talking about his little girls. Then he sat down on the swivel chair, looking at Christina as she looked back a little confused. Congratulations Mrs. Knight! You’re pregnant! She had looked at him, her big green eyes welling up with tears. She started to cry. She cried silently with a smile on her face bigger than his. He handed her a box of tissues and told her about how the baby was only a little over two weeks old, just forming and having an effect on her body. She blew her nose as he continued to tell her she would have regular checkups to monitor the baby as it would continue to grow. She would develop the trademark bump when she was in her second trimester. She was so happy when she had left she almost forgot to give the secretary the check.
    Now, once the tears had stopped, all she could do was smile. Her heart was aching; feeling like it might burst open. She had never felt so much joy and love inside of her, not since she had meet the eyes of her husband, Alexander White, on the their wedding day 3 years ago. She couldn’t stop thinking about possible baby names. Was it a boy or a girl? Would it have her eyes, her husbands’ eyes? Maybe it would look like a clone of one of them, or maybe it would be the perfect mix of all of their traits and genes. The thought of actually being a mother had never really nested in her mind. She knew about it and sometimes she wondered what it would feel like to be a mother, give life to something for 9 months before holding it in your arms.
    That feeling was pure and unfathomable joy.
    It was a warm blanket that rested comfortably around her body and soul. She now knew what it was like, she understood why women accepted being women. Despite the sexism out there, the knowing that you had to better and prove yourself, the cramps, the teasing in school and the painful knowledge that in some people’s minds you would never be truly worthy or equal…you were the sole reason why man has been able to continue to walk this earth. You give life; you had the natural wonder to be able to sustain mankind. Nothing could have prepared her for that wave of emotion; the uncontrollable tears, the smiles, the heart pounding and almost forgetting to breathe. She loved every fleeting second of it and couldn’t wait to tell Alex. She hoped he would be able to understand her feelings and be just as joyous.
    Luckily there was a place to park on the street just a few yards away from their apartment building. Christina parallel parked faster and with more precision than she had before. The rain was coming down a little harder now but still had no effect on her sunshine smile and mood. Christina reached to the passenger side seat and grabbed her small worn leather purse as well as the bag of groceries she knew they desperately needed: a gallon of 1 percent milk, a half cartoon of eggs, a loaf of wonder bread and a little something she thought would be necessary—a small bottle of champagne. She would just have a sip or two, so she wouldn’t harm the growing child. Placing the bag and purse in her lap she opened the door and placed her foot on the slick pavement of the street. The rain attacked her shoe immediately before attacking her faded light blue jeans up to her knee. Christina didn’t mind the rain as it dampened her rich amber hair to her shoulders. She continued to smile and didn’t bother to open her purple pocket sized umbrella. She let the soothing, gentle rain soak through her light spring coat and drip drop across her freckled cheeks and nose. Standing in the building doorway she found her key in her back pocket and swiveled it in the lock like she always had to do before shoving the heavy metal door open with her left shoulder. Walking up the stairs felt good to her and the little squeaking noise her shoes made against the dull tile floor was pleasantly new, even though every shoe made a similar noise when people walked up the stairs.
    Everything felt new. Everything was exciting. Suddenly being pregnant gave her a new optimistic outlook on life and the little things in it.
    Standing outside her front door, Christina had her keys on hand and didn’t mind the annoying scratching sound the lock made when it was unlocked or the sound of the door scraping against the beaten wooden floors of the one bedroom, one bathroom apartment. The lights were on, and her husbands’ jacket was slung across the back of the chair she used to put her shoes on in the morning. Usually she would have gotten annoyed at his habit of tossing things wherever he wanted because he knew she was going to pick it up. But today she only rolled her eyes a little, her smile still never faltering. She placed the bags on the floor and shrugged her wet coat of her shoulders and placed it over her husband’s old leather jacket, on the back of the chair. She kicked off her sneakers and let them hit the wall with a small thud before landing upside down by the chair. Heading for the kitchen just down the short and almost nonexistent hall with the grocery bag in toe, Christina heard the familiar static sound coming from the lowered volume of the television in the living room/dining room. She didn’t mind that he hadn’t said hello yet because she knew he would shortly when he fully registered that she was home. It was Saturday and all he really ever did on Saturday was watch television or read the newspaper articles he only had time to skim within the past week.
    She continued to stay quiet as she placed the bag on the counter and proceeded to open the old white fridge and place the milk, eggs and bread inside it. She left the champagne bottle on the counter and went to search for the two champagne flutes that her best friend had given as a wedding present. Sadly that friend had committed suicide a year ago, unable to handle the stress of being a journalist and constantly traveling with uncooperative, sexually active rock stars. Being a woman was too much for her. The flutes were pure crystal and made that perfect sound when you tapped them with your fingernail and they also made the soft, melodic humming when you ran your wet finger over the edge again and again. They had designs of birds carved in them, small and sometimes hard to distinguish as birds but nonetheless beautiful and expensive. They had a thin layer of dust on them, even though they had been in a cabinet on the top shelf for a few months. Dust just always seemed to appear. But Christina didn’t bother to get agitated over the dust; she just wiped the glasses with a wet paper towel—going over the small curves and dips of each individual design on the sides—before placing them on the counter away from the edge. She found the bottle opener and placed it next to the glasses.
    A soft noise in the doorway made her turn. Alex was standing there in a pair of sweats and faded white undershirt—most likely the one he woke up in. He was watching her with his warm blue eyes and wearing a soft grin, his nose crinkling up a little like it always did. She smiled to him, her eyes going a little moist at the news she was about to tell him. Quickly turning around and ripping the gold foil from the top of the champagne bottle before opening the champagne expertly with the bottle opener. Christina heard him humming contently to himself a tune he had probably heard on the radio and liked. The white froth of the champagne bubble just touched her finger tips before she tipped it and poured it into the glasses. Filling hers a little less because she wasn’t actually going to drink most of what she was pouring in.
    “What’s the special occasion?” His voice was closer than she had expected and she jumped a little, startled. A hand rested on her waist and Alex leaned to place a little kiss on the side of her neck, the gesture warmed her heart all over again. She heard him breathe deeply as he took in the fading scent of her drugstore brand perfume. Christina finished pouring the golden, opaque and bubbly liquid into the glasses and held one in each hand as she turned around to face him. He was close, his body warm against hers and she could smell and see that he had taken a shower today. His dirty blond hair was fluffy like it always is after it had been cleaned. He smelled like the soap he used and he smelled like something clean that you just wanted to come home to. Silently he pressed their lips together in the ritual, natural “welcome home, I’ve missed you” kiss. He tasted clean too. Christina smiled warmly and handed him the flute, the skin on their hands brushing.
    “I’ve got some splendid news to tell you.” She said simply, caging the tears that welled in her eyes and the urge to just say it. She debated on how she was going to tell him: she could tell him like she was telling him the weather. She could tell him while she cried, or she would whisper it in his ear like it was a secret. The thrill of telling it like a secret blossomed in her stomach and took hold, her lips curling in a smile. Alex cocked his head to the side as he observed her with an inquiring expression, his blue eyes prying and trying to read his wife’s joyous smile and moist evergreen eyes.
    Christina raised the glass to her lips and sipped at the harmless froth, eyeing her husband over the rim of the glass as he brought his glass to his lips and took a respectable sip of the champagne. While he was lowering the glass and licking his lips Christina moved forward and placed her lips against the shell of his left ear. His blond wavy hair tickled her cheek and she breathed against his neck and ear before speaking.
    “I’m pregnant.”
    Those two simple words carried little emotion as she said them. She wanted his true reaction and didn’t want to affect it in anyway. She was expecting a gasp, maybe even silence but not the horrible sound of crystal shattering on the wood floor of the kitchen. Christina jumped back in surprise and opened her mouth at the sight of the priceless champagne flute—shattered and scattered around her feet. The golden liquid now like water as it seeped through her socks and stained the already worn wood.
    “Alexander!?” Christina tried not to shriek the words, and it came out like a breathless gasp. She looked up to him to see his face blank, void of any emotion and it scared her to see his eyes temporarily stripped of that joyful, boyish light. He didn’t focus on her and he caused her heart to lurch when he just turned away from her and walked away, letting her tears of joy turn to tears of pain. He didn’t show any recognition of the broken glass, spilled liquid as he walked away out of the kitchen back to the living room/dining room and muted television.
    Christina placed her flute on the counter and stepped around the shattered crystal as she headed after him, determined to find out why. She heard the sound on the television return and held back a sob, chocking on it. She came to stand in the living room entrance and found his shoulders slumped, his face buried in his hands as he silently shook. The sound of some random basketball game covering his whimpering that she strained to hear. She approached the couch where he sat and sat down next to him as quietly as she could. Her tears now less frequent, but still carrying the pain.
    “What’s wrong?” She asked quietly, putting her hand against his back and rubbing it in soothing circles.
    “What’s wrong?! What’s wrong?! You’re pregnant!” Alex replied in a voice a little too loud and carrying a threatening tone. He was blaming her and it hurt. It tore her heart. He turned his head so he could pin her in a stare of steely blue and Christina realized that he hadn’t been crying at all. She took her hand back as if burned, frowning for the first time that day.
    “There’s nothing wrong with that!” She tried not to sound desperate, but a little sob found its way up her throat and caused her to give a little chortling sound in the end. She tried to fix him with a stare of her own but couldn’t find the hatred in herself that was in his eyes.
    “Yes there is! We’re not ready to have a child! Not in these times, not in this economic state! I’m not ready to have a kid, not yet…I’m only 27. We’ve only been married a year and a half. We’re still trying to find a routine...we didn’t even talk about kids. We only just started talking about getting a dog!” He shouted back, his voice fading as his eyes glazed over with some unexplainable fear.
    “Get rid of it. Get an abortion…”He barely whispered the words, but they carried no emotion. It didn’t seem like a statement, it seemed like an order.
    Christina felt like she had been hit by a truck and tried not to be crushed under its weight. She just stared. Her hands started to shake in her lap and she began to cry again, she ended up weeping. A minute or two later, to her dismay the couch shifted as Alex stood up and began to walk away, leaving her yet again in pain. She managed to get a few deep breaths before calling to his retreating back.
    “I won’t. I’m keeping the baby!”
    She cringed when he spun around and faced her. He was now seething with anger and she was waiting to see if steam would come out of his ears. His hands were balled up in fists and his jaw was clenched painfully tight.
    “I’ll leave. If you keep it I’ll leave.” His said in a tone too calm and too controlled. He said nothing else and turned, storming out of the living room. Christina gave a heart-wrenching sob and curled up on the couch. She buried her face in the pillow and didn’t bother to turn off the television, despite the annoying commercials that drove her crazy.
    She didn’t know how long she was curled up on the couch before she fell into a fitful sleep. The crying had exhausted her and even when she woke up abruptly she was dreadfully tired. The dried tear stains and tracks cracked as she scrunched up her face in a concerned frown. The television had been turned off and Christina saw that the time on the cable box said 10:07 pm. But something was wrong she could feel it and the feeling crawled up her skin like a parasite, causing her to squirm. She got off the couch and made a bee-line for their bedroom. The bedside lamp was on but the room was empty of Alex, as well as the rest of the house. Everything was neat and tidy like it was when she had left for the doctor’s early that afternoon around three o’clock. She looked to the closet and saw that the door was open and Alex’s weekend bag was missing. That is where the feeling of dread began to seep slowly through her veins like poison and it was in her hands and feet, causing her to stumble.
    Christina rushed out of the bedroom, one hand pressed against her stomach and the other stretched out ahead of her. When she looked to the front door she saw that her jacket was hanging on the coat rack but his leather jacket wasn’t on the back of the chair or the coat rack. Now the dread was causing her eyesight to blur and her mouth to go numb. She headed for the kitchen, not sure what she was expecting to see. Once in the kitchen she had to scan the room twice her eyes were so blurry. She found nothing out of the ordinary or missing. Then she remembered the broken crystal and spilled champagne. By now the floor would have a water stain and would never come out. Christina headed for where the spill was and looked down to find that the floor wasn’t wet and that there was hardly a stain. The shattered crystal was nowhere to be found on the floor and she didn’t step on any as she kept searching. She looked at the counter and found a small paper bag sitting there. Next to it was her champagne flute, still full of the champagne she hadn’t drunk and the bottle that was now closed. Christina reached her hand out for the bag and opened it, unfolding the top until she could peer in and see hundreds of shards of crystal. She gasped and scrunched the bag closed immediately, trying not to cry. She lifted the paper bag off the counter and heard the crystal rustle inside the bag. A little piece of paper was taped to the counter under the bag and Christina leaned in so she could read the note.
    There was the sound of a bag full of crystal hitting the floor and landing on its side. Some of the shattered crystal spilled out against the lightly water stained wooden floor, closely resembling uncut diamonds. Then there was the sound of weeping and someone crashing to the floor. Christina sat on her knees on the floor with one hand covering her open, dry mouth, hot tears trickling over her hand and slipping between her fingers. The other hand was clutching her stomach, the fabric of her shirt twisting in her grip. Her evergreen eyes stared at the spilled crystal, void of any other emotion except dread.
    The dread was now seeping into her heart causing it to rattle against her ribs. It seeped into her lungs and caused her to choke on her sobs. It flowed through her body freely now, fully unleashed with the words written on the piece of paper with a blue pen, in her husband’s handwriting:
    -Call me when you realize that you love me more -