Be Careful What You Wish For

Part 3

including "Heather"

December 2003 – Terry and Uma’s House

TINA:

“Come on! Dish! Were you surprised?” Heather asked me with a sly, furtive grin.

“About what?”

“The trip to Oz! He spilled about that to me before your ceremony, you know! I was so excited for you, girl. I remember you telling me how badly you wanted to go… And I could see how excited he was to take you.”

“Ha! Fuck yeah, I was floored! God, many times had said I wanted to go to Australia? How many times had I begged Hando to take me? How many times had he categorically refused?”

Then, just like that - we were on a plane (actually a series of flights) to Oz. I asked him why. He explained, very seriously, that it was important that he take me to see his homeland. A pilgrimage of sorts. There were some things he needed to deal with and besides, I had been begging him to go. Those reasons were fine with me.

“Aww – I thought it was the best idea in the world when he told me. It just seemed like the perfect place for you two. Don’t know where you’re going until you know where you’ve been, ya know?” You really had no clue? Had you talked about a honeymoon at all?”

“Yes, we talked about taking a drive cross country. But a trip across the world? Wasn't a big deal to him that I hadn't prepared for such a journey. ‘We'll buy what we need when we get there’, he said. How many times in your life can you just DO that, Heather?”

“What is the cliché? Seize the moment? Seize the manhood?” She grinned. “Definitely a two handed job there, girl! Heh!”

“Oh, it was seized…and held captive…”

Her grin got bigger. And softer. I suddenly remembered she’d had a recent honeymoon as well. “Lachlan and I visited Canada recently…it was scary, exhilarating, sad, Humbling, happy.... everything at the same time. Mostly I just wanted to know more about him... and what better way than to see that place that shaped so much of who he is.... saw the land he called ‘gorgeous’.... visited his old haunts... places he frequented.... all with someone who remembered them as they’d been sixty years ago.

I couldn’t believe what was happening at that moment. I was talking to another person – a sister – just as openly – hell, even more openly than I had my shrink. And you know what? It felt wonderful. I’d not realized how much I longed to have female companionship…

“Oh yeah…I can’t deny that was a huge factor behind my desire to visit. During the flight, I pondered over what I knew about Hando's life in Australia. He has never talked much about that day at the beach. You know - that day…”

Heather nodded, understanding it was a frail wound of Hando’s. I got the feeling that he didn’t share much with her about it either.

“Pressing for information didn't do anything but make him angry. Begrudgingly, I left it alone and quit asking to visit Oz. I only wanted to know - to see it through his eyes. That's part of loving someone, right? Wanting to know everything about them?”

Heather nodded and motioned that it was time for a beverage refill. I followed her back down to the kitchen and continued relating my experience.

“When we got there, I found out that Hando had been a busy little bee. Seems that he and Thorne had been in cahoots for quite awhile. The flight arrangements. The limo from the airport to the resort. Oh, the beauty of the place we were to stay - I had to pinch myself! I was sure I was dreaming!”

“Heh. I can definitely see Terry’s hand in that. He’s such a boy when it comes to that kind of stuff. I can just see the two of them, sneaky and plotting in between all the ‘Mates?’ and the ‘Piss offs’ you just know had to be flying around.” I had to laugh at that. I know them both and she’s right. “It sounds fantastic. Talk about a romantic getaway!”

“It was wonderful semi-private beach condo ensconced in a valley on privately owned resort property. Yes, a beach condo!!! What I couldn’t figure was why he secured us a place like that knowing what the beach symbolizes for him? Was it to please me? He confounds me when he does things like that.”

Heather just smiled warmly and gave this little shrug. “He loves you.”

He loves me. Guess that says it all, doesn’t it?

“He got a good chuckle when the concierge addressed me four times before I realized he was talking to me. Mrs. Martin. Will I ever get used to that? Oh, and you know my new favorite nervous scribble is to practice writing my new name. Silly huh?”

“Not that silly. I did it too.” She blushed. “It’s been months and I still get a charge out of it. Especially now, you know?” I most definitely knew.

“Kinda ironic. Wasn't two months before the wedding that I was legally "me" again. I'll be forever in debt to Terry for helping Hando do what he needed to do to take care of me while I was otherwise incapacitated mentally and physically. Even with all the obvious reasons I had to get better, the one thing that drove me was my desire to be independent again. What do I do then? I turn right around and get married. So much for independence, Heather.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“Ahem – details?”

“You are hopeless, you know? Of course, the first couple of days were spent in the bedroom. That's not entirely true. The first couple of days were spent in various positions all over the condo, napping and eating along the way. We couldn't get enough of each other. Doing our level best to wear in the new of our nuptials. Just when I thought I needed a rest and could take no more, he would do something to wind me up again. You know, things like….breathing. Didn't take much…”

“I hear ya He is one of the Creator’s boys, after all.” She had this knowing little look. I knew it well. It doesn’t take a whole lot of prodding, does it?”

“Nah! The next morning, Hando sent me off to a day spa. Worked it out so that I could be there alone with the attendants. No one to ogle my scars and give me piteous glances. Said he had things to do, needed some time to deal. Who was I to argue? I was being treated like a princess. If my prince needed some guy time - so let it be. I thoroughly enjoyed myself being pampered, waxed, and exfoliated. It would have been perfect if I had a sister – like you – to share it with.”

~~~

January 2004

TINA:

Why, oh why can’t I lead a normal, boring, run-of-the-mill life? There must be at least a hundred women out there, somewhere, with no excitement in their life…all because I have received the allotment meant for them.

Thing have been completely different since THE DAY that we found out I didn’t have Dominic’s flu. Hando revels in telling the story of how I passed out – as if I had any doubt that his Aussie swimmers could do the job. Yeah, he leaves out the part about how I didn’t have the machinery works to perform such a feat. Not many people would understand that one, would they? I laid in our bed wide awake – after faking exhaustion to Hando. I needed to think….think about the ramifications of what happened. Think about what sort of mother I would be. Think about my body – was everything 100%? Could I carry the baby to term? Sure, I could talk all this out with Hando, but if you could have only seen him…the smile plastered on his face. He looked 10 years younger. I don’t believe I’d ever seen him expose that many teeth in a smile! Why would I want to put a damper on his spirits?

I was petrified. Scared to death. I didn’t realize that I was holding my breath until I began feeling dizzy. Tears rolled down my face. Was I happy? Was I sad? Should I breast feed? How did this happen?

How long had Hando known about the portal and not told me?

That thought brought me out of the bed. I paced the floor, trying to figure out if I should be angry at him or not. What purpose would it serve? Was he trying to spare my feelings – knowing I couldn’t bake even if he could shoot? What else was he keeping from me? I felt a sense of déjà vu from our honeymoon.

Even with the stir of emotions, a hush fall over my being. I focused on the antique rocking chair in the corner of our room – piled high with clothes that needed ironing or hanging in the closet. Calmly folding each garment as if in a trance, I emptied the chair and scooted it near the window. Feeling the cool wood through my gown, I adjusted to a comfortable position and began to rock. Little by little, to and fro, clarity seeped into my mind.

The next afternoon found Hando and I as nervous as cats in a room full of rocking chairs. 10 minutes until he would leave to pick up Caitlin from school. 15 minutes after that, they would walk in the door and we would tell her our news. I found out, clandestinely, that he had already told Uma and Heather. I made him swear on his life that he wouldn’t tell another soul in the family until I could fully comprehend the whole thing. Not even Dominic. Why were we nervous about Caity? I can’t speak for Hando – well, I could guess – that Caity would know exactly what her mom and dad had been doing and that made him uncomfortable. Get used to it, Skin. Wait’ll you get a good whiff of poo – and we’ll see how uncomfy that makes you!

My edgy feelings came from a discussion that Caity and I had about a month ago. It was the birds and bees talk. I hadn’t a clue what she knew and didn’t - and would rather her have a foundation to compare to what she hears and sees. She wasn’t forthcoming with information, but I did see the light bulb come on more than once when I explained the mechanics. Caitlin couldn’t look Hando in the face for days. Of course, I didn’t tell him about that convo. He would have died from embarrassment…the poor big tough guy. I’m digressing. Caity point blank asked me when Hando and I would have children and I told her the truth – that I’d had an operation to remove the parts that allow me to carry a baby. She understood and seemed rather sad about it.

Could I get by with saying – “Hey – guess they didn’t remove it all – surprise surprise!”? I hadn’t a clue. She was smarter than anyone really knew. That explanation may not pass muster. I wasn’t about to explain portals to her. Not at her age. Hell, maybe not ever!

As Hando chain-smoked on the front porch – the doctor gave him a berating about smoking in my presence – I sat on the couch and pored over the reading materials I had gotten at the obstetrician’s appointment earlier in the day. Many many things to learn. I mused over the visit, bringing myself to tears at the vision of Hando getting misty eyed at the monitor screen when the ultrasound was performed. There it had been – there it ALL had been. The fetus – the anatomy that was around the fetus – me…restored. The proof positive of Hando’s manhood - this tiny scrap of a thing, a blob really – in black and white. When I could rip my eyes away from the cute little blob, I took in everything I could see of Hando. The way his face had paled 3 or 4 shades. The incessant nibbling on his bottom lip. How he was holding his breath. His eyebrows in a permanent raise on his forehead. Most of all, his loss of conversation but to say “lookit that”. Total lack of composure. When he thought I wasn’t looking, he wiped his eyes on his shirt.

As we already knew, I was four months along – but we played stupid to that and everything else. I made up a few details about my history, still not wanting to explain how what wasn’t now was. Everything seemed to be in perfect order, but my weight was a concern. I was given some vitamins and a list of things to eat and to stay away from – which Hando snatched out of my hand and reviewed, making mental notes, I was sure. She (Dr. Fraley) gave me a calendar marking how much weight she would like to see me gain and by what date. “Don’t binge, but do eat several times a day” she had suggested.

The kid gloves were immediately donned as we left the office. I thought that I could really enjoy his attention, lap it up like a dog – but it just wasn’t me. He was making me mental even before we left the grocery store – which had been our next stop. Admittedly I was very hungry. I rationalized that part of my uneasy stomach all this time was due to not knowing what my malady had been – and trying to hide it from Hando. My stubbornness at just wanting to be normal and not a burden to another. Now that everything was in the open, I “felt” much better. Besides being a nervous wreck and wondering what the hell I was doing…at least I had an explanation for why my lower back hurt, why my breasts were so sore, and the curious case of heartburn I had developed.

“No caffeine. Lots of water. Pick out some fruits you like. No, you can’t have that – put it back.” He was a right drill sergeant. Looks like I’d have to horde some of my favs in my secret hiding places in the kitchen. Dammit.

Bleeeeeep. Hando’s cell drew his attention away from the decision he was making regarding red meat over boneless chicken breasts. (He picked the breasts…he has always fancied…breasts.)

“Yeah. Who? You mean Mr. Williams? Yeah. Tell him to keep his pants on, I’ll be right there.” Hando ended the call with an exasperated grunt.

“Who was that?”

“Dom. That old man – Mr. Williams – I’ve told you about him, right?” I nodded. “He’s brought some more small engines by the shop and won’t talk to anyone but me. That old fucker – heh – I ain’t got the heart to tell him to fuck off. I ain’t runnin a fucking small engine shop. Plenty of those around.”

“Now Hando, he must trust you – hard to find people you can count on…” I thought about whether I was angry at him still for not spilling about the possibilities of the portal. I decided to keep a lid on it until it would serve me better.

“I know, I know. Hell, he looks like he ain’t got two pennies to rub together. He works on them, and those he can’t fix – he brings to me. I think he sells them to add to whatever disability checks he gets from the government.”

Fucking pregnancy. Made me a bundle of emotions. I teared up at the thought of Hando’s generosity and patience – and how it compares with what most people think of him.

I knew without asking that Hando didn’t charge him a dime for his labor and parts. I could picture him telling Mr. Williams that his money was no good to him – to put his wallet back in his pocket.

We pulled into the shop – Hando insisted that I stay put, that he wouldn’t be long. I didn’t argue. I had a couple of pregnancy books from the bookstore next to the grocery store to keep my attention. I did sneak a look at this infamous “old fucker”. Hando wasn’t lying – he was a skinful of bones. Looked like the walking dead, if you asked me. Hando unloaded the engines from Mr. William’s beat up old Chevrolet truck. I had myself a little perve, watching him flex his muscles. I could swear that he was walking with more of a “Bud”-like gait. The four balled one. I guess he had every right to feel that way. His old lady was officially knocked up and he was the culprit. Feeling a hot flash, I turned on the air, and began reading about 'The Fourth Month of Pregnancy':

The baby's skin in pink and somewhat transparent. Eyebrows and eyelashes begin to appear in this month….The baby's neck is long enough to lift the head from the body.

The baby moves, kicks, sleeps, wakes, swallows, and passes urine. You may start to feel a slight sensation in your lower abdomen…This feels like bubbles or fluttering.

Bubbles…fluttering? Sounds like gas to me…

… Some of the symptoms you may have had during the first trimester will likely decrease or go away. For example, you will not need to urinate as frequently, you will feel less nauseated and be less likely to vomit, and your breasts will not feel as tender but will continue to grow.

Thank God! I was sure I’d begun to develop calluses on my knees from worshipping the porcelain god...

New symptoms that you may experience include: …increase in your appetite, mild swelling in your ankles, feet, hands, and face, …clumsiness, and possibly fetal movement toward the end of the month. …

Greaaaaaat. Why am I reading this?

Your emotions are likely to still swing back and forth between joy, apprehension, irritability, etc. Many women feel frustrated and self-conscious about their bodies when they don’t fit into their regular clothes but are still too small for maternity clothes. You may also feel somewhat scattered and clumsy--it is normal to be forgetful, drop things, and have trouble concentrating.

“Christ! It’s a fucking ice box in here, love!”

I jumped - the book shot out of my hands and right into his nose. Hando had startled me…yeah, that’s it. I wasn’t clumsy at all…

~~~

December 2003 – Terry and Uma’s House

TINA:

Heather and I had taken our gab session a step further by giving each other manicures. True to the saying, once I began spilling, I couldn’t stop:

You know, it didn’t take long before long before we experienced a "Honeymoon's Over" moment. Ironically it had been a gorgeous morning. We had breakfast catered to us on the deck overlooking the beach. I was high on life and wanted nothing more than for everyone around me to feel the same. Why does that enormously wonderful feeling seem to herald doom? I had gone shopping. I had told him I was going shopping. He was on Planet Cue Ball during breakfast and didn't pay attention, I supposed. When I returned with the most glorious house-warming gift for Uma and Terry, I wasn't prepared for what awaited me when I entered our condo.

Heather glanced up at me as she filed my nails, searching my eyes for meaning.

Hando pounced on me like a cheetah. Yelling - cursing - accusing. “Where the fuck have you been?” I can't remember which of his words made me snap but I slapped him across the face as hard as I could. He grabbed my neck, wrapping his fist nearly around the entire circumference and rammed me against the wall. His other fist was reared back to strike. I couldn't believe it. He was about to punch me in the face!

Realization set in and he loosened his grip. I told him, as calmly as I could, "Perhaps if you'd listen to me instead of daydreaming like you did at breakfast, you would have known I was shopping at the strip next door for a housewarming gift for Uma and Terry." Digging my nails into my palms, I gathered my composure to walk away from him. I would not crumble, not then. I was determined to be out of sight before falling apart.

Oh, but the hits kept on comin, Heather. I knew. I knew he'd find me, try to make amends and everything would be all good. I should have been wearing combat gear. I wasn't prepared for the bombshell he was about to launch.

I can barely remember his apology. Everything went blood red afterwards. I could hear the words coming from his mouth. I could see his lips move. I could see his eyes seeking understanding in mine.

Desperate to have a child. I never knew the extreme. An offer made out of love. A frustrated soul prepared to jump on the chance.

So, what was I supposed to do? Help Hando raise a child he gave to someone else? Just like that? Open arms and all? Turns out he was prepared to make this happen at any cost. Even losing me.

Even losing me.

One little fuck. That is all it would have taken. No big deal. Isn't that what we all did in the game anyway? Fuck? What made this different?

My pride. My sensitivity to what I couldn't give him and what he wanted.

The sad thing is, it was a moot point by then. The sister who offered herself to Hando had left our world. It was the source of his depression, frustration, and anger all these days since the end of Temple Week.

I sat there, in the wet sand, watching him spill his heart to me. Coming clean. Trying to be a good husband and mate. All I could do was silently curse him for making this sort of decision without asking me. That only told me that I didn't matter. What had I married into? Lies.

When the red faded from my view and turned to gray, I thought…really hard about everything. I put on a good show for H. I carried on polite conversations with him, I dined graciously with him. While my insides lay smoldering in anger.

I paused, chewing on my lip – feeling a lingering twinge of ire as I related the details to Heather.

All that time since Temple Week. He wasn't just upset that she was gone…he was upset over his plans going awry. Had I known that, I may not have been as understanding. Rewind to the weeks before that. Was that the reason he asked me to marry him? If the idea hadn't existed, would he still have proposed? My head was reeling with unanswered questions. I didn't dare pose them and open myself up to more lies.

Hando was careful, attentive, and patient…but it was nearing the end of it's mileage. He was growing tired of my silence. I knew it. So many things I could have – should have - said to ease his feelings.

In old Hando fashion, he turned the tables on me. Quid pro quo. He'd told me a secret, and it was my turn. The basement. At my house. What gives? What's with all the recording and music equipment?

Heather stopped me with a few questions of her own. I was speaking of personal things that she didn’t know about me. Awkwardly, with an embarrassed flush, I explained the significance of the basement. Why the things were there. Why I didn’t play or write any longer. A bemused smile crossed her face as she insisted I was simply too superstitious. I rolled my eyes and walked to the window, in my frustration of not being able to convey the weight of my beliefs. Heather bade me to come back and sit down and continue. I wasn’t going to, but who can say no to her?

Stunned, I looked for something to throw at him. He'd been in MY private space. He had no right! Instead of fighting back, he held my arms at my sides by wrapping his body around me. I fought the best that I could, but still ended up a sobbing mess.

As he loosened his grip with every heave of my chest, I encircled my arms around his chest and held him. "Please, don't ever let me go, Hando. I'm sorry. I'm so so so so sorry." I bawled. I was broken. I'd escaped near death and now I found myself at the total mercy of another. I'd never be what I was.

Grabbing my face in my hands, rather roughly, he spoke, "Oi. Shut up. Listen to me. Whatever those things mean to you, I want to know. That is what being married is all about, right? Knowing things about each other…being there for one another…growing together. Isn't it?" His eyes searched mine, willing me to understand him.

I nodded - as much as I could with my cheeks in the vice grip of his paw.

"I've hurt you more than I'll ever understand with the secret I've kept from you. I want to make it right. Will you give me a chance?"

His voice so calm and meaningful. I knew then that he was sincere. I didn't move to react.

"It has to be both of us, love. I can't do this alone. We have to both want it."

Fresh tears fell from my eyes. He was right. Damn him.

Testing his patience, I turned away his advances that night. I really was sore from our first few days of wedded bliss, but I wanted to push the boundary and…pout. Just to prove how far he was willing to go, he babied me. No, no joke. The family skinhead went to great personal lengths to show me that I was worth this attention.

We stayed awake most of the night talking. Anyone who knows him is aware that chatting isn’t his first choice of activity in the bed. Hando and I have never been ones to have deep conversations about ourselves and life. He can’t and doesn’t seem to want to put his feelings into words and I don’t push it by holding him a captive audience to my musings. My reward for this observation and subsequent silence are the few times, that I can count on one hand, where he has opened himself up to me. I cherish them. I recount them over and over. They are what I see when everyone else sees a tool of hate.

He pressed, but I promised that I would talk at a later time - about what those things in the basement meant to me. Certainly before we left Oz. I wasn't up to it that night. Fair enough, was his attitude.

Hando told me that he wanted to find his portal, but didn't know where to begin. I wondered if that was a good idea or not. I'd heard the stories from the others who had been in portals - both good and bad stories. Being alive after my ordeal already seemed like tempting fate - why on earth would I want to take any more risks?

Because he's my man. Because this is what he wants - and he's sharing his heart with me.

He picked up the phone and rang up Terry, oblivious to the time difference. They had a long convo about portals. Hando asked him for advice on finding his. Not much to glean from the but some Uh huhs and Oh reallys.

~~~

January 2004

TINA:

We worried for naught. Caitlin was overjoyed, talking a million miles a minute. Perhaps she didn’t remember our talk and it would occur to her at a later date…whatever happened, Hando was relieved. He slipped back into his typical harsh self – his voice booming to “get off me and do your homework.” She was paying him no attention. She hugged his neck until he returned the show of affection. He cleared his throat, looked at me over her head and spoke, “Thassenough…come on, do as I said. Where is your book bag?”

Caity skipped across the room in to the kitchen. Hando donned the kid gloves again. “Are you ok? Are you hungry? Tired? Want to take a nap?…”

I shook my head slowly and felt warm tears stream down my face.

“Tina? What is wrong?”

I smiled, “I have no clue.” And shrugged.

“Christ. How many more months of this?” Hando pulled me from the couch and told me to go lay down – that he’d bring me up a snack.”

“Ooooo. A snack? But I’ve been such a naughty little girl…”, I purred quietly so Caity wouldn’t hear.

“Oi! What the fuck?” he danced around dodging my wandering hands. “Stop it and get your ass in the bed!” he hissed.

I pouted and moped to the stairs.

to be continued...