Lullaby

8lbs 5oz, her name was Dulcey Annemarie. You’d had your hopes up for a boy but seemed just as enthralled with her. Ten fingers, ten toes I’d counted them about a hundred times before you’d gotten there. She was an ally to me, not just a child. I was afraid to let you in to see her. I begged the nurses to take her before you came.

“I wanted a boy but this’ll do,” you took her from me and twirled her around. I hadn’t seen that face in a while. Your voice claimed one thing and your actions claimed another. You wanted her and that’s all I wanted for her.

Things at home remained quiet for a little while.

Operative phrase being little while…

Deenie often came by to see her but waited until you were gone.

“She’s beautiful Hannah,” she’d smile at the small bundle of hope.

“Thanks,” I’d find a way to sit comfortably on my feet.

“Thank God she looks like you,” Deenie commented, “Although it’s a damn shame who her daddy is. Please tell me you slept with the Postman at the same time.”

“Deenie, rather you like Eric or not he’s here to stay. You are holding his daughter and we are getting married.”

“Please, you’re only getting married because he’s believes it’s the Christian thing to do. That and if he doesn’t there is a slim chance he’ll get to see this little miracle,” she spoke down to Dulcey.

I was having one of those inner battles again.

“Hannah, the only thing that man loves about you is the fact that you’re still here after the smoke has cleared. All you are to him is a submissive baby making machine that allows him to walk all over her.”

“You don’t know anything about us.”

“Hannah there is no us. You’re relationship with him is one big performance after another.”

She was right, but I’d be damned before I admitted it.

I wanted Dulcey to know a life of love and compassion. That was going to be considerably hard considering. But I was willing to bend to the point of no return to make things work.

Your days at “work” became later and later. Eventually you quit coming home for days at a time. I wasn’t sure if I should enjoy the peace or be worried over losing you.

Dulcey was a quiet child. Many things about her resembled you. Which confused Deenie and I, since you came home after she was asleep and gone before she awoke. I wanted your attention, especially when you came home smelling like someone else.

“Don’t you ever get tired of working?” I was in a trying mood. Who knew I might actually even hit you back. It was a thought.

“No,” you simply answered before disappearing into the bathroom.

“The wedding is in a week you know?”

“Who’s getting married?” I was shocked.

“Us”

You laughed.

“Goddamn you Eric! You promised.”

“Nothing will change,” you took your shirt off, “you will not be bound to me by anything other than that child, a gold band won’t suddenly change that.”

I sucked in and walked out, typical.

“Why don’t you just hit me? It would have the same breath taking effect but at least it’ll heal,” it was the truth. The black eye would fade before that comment did. You had nothing to say.

I sat down at the table with my little blue box. Stocked with silver fix, I removed a silver tube and inhaled.

“I won’t have my children contaminated with that garbage!” you yelled at me down the hall.

“Then be glad your w***e on the side isn’t addicted,” the point of no return had reached. You could have hit me multiple times and it would have no effect on me. You tested that theory.

“All the pretty little horses,” I heard you singing to Dulcey. The room was dark you’d locked me in the closet…again.

Reviews

[r]

Short, but amazing. Powerful. Just thinking about the "silver fix" makes my skin crawl and my nose wrinkle in disgust. I agree with the b*****d about one thing - I wouldnt want that around MY baby either.

Again, nice form. Addictive story. reading on. (: