I got into the truck and drove, having no idea where I was actually going. Anywhere but there, I thought. I needed to figure this out; my marriage was falling apart when realistically it should only just be getting started.
I understood Monique’s anger and frustration; we had been trying to conceive for years. Monique’s friends were all having their first babies, and by now they had all either figured out or been told that we were having trouble. And god did it make me feel like an incompetent husband. This fertility procedure had been our last chance; I’d even cashed in my retirement to pay for it, which was probably the stupidest thing I could’ve done. Throwing money at the problem had little chance of solving it.
I caught myself grinding my teeth and forced my jaw to relax. I voice-dialled my mom. She picked up immediately.
“Devan? Is everything okay?” she asked, panic in her voice.
My mom knew everything about the situation with Monique and me. She and Monique got along great, better than any mother and daughter-in-law I’d ever known, and I was both lucky and grateful. And surprisingly, though my mom was known to meddle, she never stepped into the middle of our fights; rather, she found a way to support us both.
“It’s bad today. I think you should call Monique, ‘cause I’m having no luck.”
“Where are you?” she asked.
“I left. I’m at my wits’ end, Mom. I’m going to go grab something for dinner and give us both some time to cool off. She won’t speak to me. It’s like talking to a brick wall behind a soundproof glass.”
“Oh Devan, I’m sorry, honey. What about this weekend? Are you going to be able to be there together?”
This weekend was the family’s annual New Year’s brunch and reunion . My mom and step-dad, my stepsister, Monique and her parents… pretty much anyone who was related either by blood or law was invited.
“You’re joking, right?” I snapped and regretted it immediately. “I mean, I hope so. But, I honestly don’t even know if we’ll be together by this weekend. This might be it.” I felt my eyes getting wet, and I blinked.
“I’ll call her,” she said. “She probably just needs to vent to someone other than you.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I said and hung up. I drove to the closest fast food place and got a couple of tacos and a soda. The food went down quickly, but I gained no enjoyment from it and hardly registered the taste. Everything was bland and colourless while we tried for a baby. It felt like it was all on me, and I was failing.
I don’t fucking fail!
And as if I didn’t have enough to worry about a competing construction firm had just decreased their prices, and my own business was taking a hit. My stress levels had skyrocketed this past month, not to mention trying to put a happy face on for Christmas visitors.
But one problem at a time, I thought. I needed to fix the situation with my family first. And yet, I didn’t know what other options we had left; Monique refused to adopt because she wanted the baby to be “ours”. I tried to explain that a baby was a baby, that we would still love it just the same, but she wouldn’t budge.
My wife was stubborn. Once Monique put her mind to something, that was it; either she’d be victorious in her quest or make herself, and me, miserable trying.
We had been to hypnotherapists, fertility specialists, herbalists, everyone with a license to do anything, and the final suggestion – and the most expensive – had been IVF. The embryos hadn’t taken, and that had been that.
I chewed on my remaining taco and contemplated how to save my marriage. It wasn’t going to be easy, but… desperate times called for desperate measures. I was willing to do anything.
3
Mila
I decided to wear a green dress to the New Year’s brunch, one that accentuated my deep chocolaty hair and brown eyes. The weather was supposed to be nice even for this time of year, and I felt like I needed to dress up a bit. The slinky material showed off my curves without looking too much like something inappropriate for a family gathering. It was not only a dress I felt comfortable in, but I also felt like I looked really good in it, which was a plus at the moment considering my mood.
Andrea, my step-mom, and my dad were hosting the brunch at their place, as they did every year. They loved having people over, and what had started as an informal family gathering had turned into a family tradition. It was also ideal for everyone who hadn’t had the chance to see each other over Thanksgiving or Christmas to drop by and catch up.
As I arrived, almost everyone was there already. I spotted my stepbrother, Devan, straight away on the lawn out back, head tilted back towards the constant blazing Californian sun. He was with his wife, Monique, who stood close to him, but as far away from him as possible without it looking weird. However, you couldn’t fool me… Something wasn’t right between them.