Not Suitable

She awoke early with pangs of dread and anxiety fluttering in her stomach. The tiny pale room she had come to know over the past few months just might be the last morning she would awake in it, but it would also be the last place they would be together. She rolled over. He was still sleeping. Of course he is, she thought. We've never been on the same page so why should I expect him to share my feelings today. She moved her gaze to the ceiling. Counting the long web-like cracks that decorated the buttery surface. This is what you want, she told herself. This is what you agreed to. Not just months ago but years ago. You promised yourself, you can't back out now. She took a deep breath, 12. 12 cracks.

Her bare feet gently tapped the cherry wood floor. Careful not to disturb the tenant who lived in the basement. It was an old house and although the house was recently renovated, the floors still creaked with the slightest pressure. She stepped out of the bedroom and looked out onto the remainder of the house conjuring up images of what it could be in the future before waving off each image and heading to the bathroom.

She beelined for the toilet to relieve her bladder. When she was finished, she slid out of her plush nightgown and caressed her arms in her hands. Her reflection showed little change to her body yet she stared intently searching for any sign of newness although she knew she was different yet everything looked the same. Untying her shoulder-length brown hair she stepped into the shower. Immersing herself under the warm trickle of water sputtering from the shower the gnawing of indecision and doubt set in. We agreed weeks ago this was the right decision, but the closer we got to the day the more doubt set in. This feels so wrong. “It's too soon,” he said. “What will people think?”

“Why are we so worried about what people think,” she replied. “It's our lives. We can do this.” His silence said it all. He didn't want to do this and he was done with her. She shouldn't be surprised. Their 3-month stint was less than stellar. They held opposing views on pretty much everything and argued way too much for a budding relationship. His Jewish cultural beliefs often unnecessarily clashed with her Christian upbringing. Sitting on the patio at Starbucks last month she made an unintentional stereotypical remark about Jewish people and money. Although she apologized and admitted to her ignorance, he proceeded to berate her for her continued tardiness and list off the crimes committed in the name of Christianity. They left the coffee shop wounded and ashamed. She tried to reconnect but he didn't speak to her on the ride back to his house. Parked on his driveway they sat in agitating silence. Well, she spoke and he didn't respond or retorted with 1-word responses. It took her nearly 30 minutes of cooing and bribes to get him out of the car and into the house. She hated his stubbornness but his smile and need for her always drew her back in.

The water pressure dropped like thick syrup struggling to get out of a bottle brought her back to reality. She lathered her hair with shampoo letting the suds slide down her back. Too much time and hot water had passed thinking about what went wrong. She scrubbed her whole body twice and raked in some conditioner. It wasn't a brand she'd normally reach for but it was all he had in the shower. It would have to do for now. It wasn't as though she was going anywhere special. The bathroom resembled the dense fog of an early March morning. She opened the door to let the steam dissipate. He was still asleep so she could get ready in peace. Pulling back the shower curtains she was faced with the mirror again. I'm starting to hate this thing today. Forgoing a towel, she stepped out of the shower and inched closer to the mirror. A mass of wet curls framed her angular face. She thought she could finally see some newness when a breathless "Oh, shit," escaped from the other side of the open door. She turned and saw him scurrying back to the bedroom. He'd seen her naked a million times but his remark cut deep. Wrapping the towel around her damp body she walked into the bedroom where he sat on the bed back towards the door. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"You're naked."

"And?"

"I wasn't expecting to see you naked is all."

“You've seen me naked before,” she replied bewildered.

“Not like this,” he replied stiffly. She drew in a deep slow ragged breath. “It's still early, I haven't changed that much.”

Silence.

“*****?” Saying his name while his back was turned to her, standing exposed, raw, in these last moments filled her with despair. Even if she wanted to change her mind and cancel the appointment it wouldn't matter now. His every word and action knocked her back like blows from a heavyweight champion. Solidifying his stance.

"I'll close the door." She walked out of the room, shutting the door behind her with only heat and wetness forming behind her eyes to accompany her.

They got ready and ate breakfast in silence. She put on makeup in the spare room connected to his bedroom. It was her favorite room in the whole house. Lined with windows and pearl white furniture, it functioned as his office and dressing room, plus it had the best lighting especially now during summer mornings. Perched on the floor in front of the full-length mirror she applied foundation. She contemplated calling her grandmother to tell her everything. This was the first major life event she kept from her. She'd tell her this was a horrible idea. She could hear her now, "There's nothing wrong with being a single mother. I did it, your mom did it, your sister did it. If he wants to leave let him leave."

"I don't want to do this alone. I can't do this alone.  He doesn't want this, me, this baby, none of it. He already said if I keep I'd be doing this alone. I want my baby to be filled with love, to have their parents there, together. I want them to know what that life and love are like."

"You have us. We can help you." she would reply.

"It's not the same."

"Kat, you're going to regret this."

"Ready to go?" She turned to find him dressed in blue jeans and a maroon t-shirt, hair still wet. His curls, which only adorned the top of his head, were so perfectly defined that they somehow magnified his stout blue eyes and his skin that always looked fairer after a shower.

"Yes, I just need to put on some mascara."

"With your phone in your hand?" he asked. She didn't realize she picked up her phone. Maybe she should call her after all, but when she looked at the clock she knew there wasn't time. "I'll be out in a minute." Turning to the mirror she hastily applied a couple of coats of mascara and returned the makeup to its pouch. Kat scanned the room. “We could turn it into a nursery, it would be perfect. Then when he or she gets older the music room would be their bedroom,” she recalled telling him the day she came over to discuss the pregnancy. "No," he said flatly. Seeing the joy melt, like ice hot asphalt, from her face he hastily replied, “The room gets too cold in the winter. It’s not suitable for either of us yet a baby.”

Perhaps he was right she thought. “Not suitable,” she whispered but all she could hear as she turned to walk out of the room was, "Kat, you're going to regret this."