(there is a sequal I'll post in a couple of days)

Thunder rattled the windows, rain pounded on the windshield. She could faintly hear her tears dropping heavily onto the seat belt through her sobs. Red faced and wounded she sat back against the seat. In the six years of adulthood that she had known, had she really screwed up this bad? At 23 was she ready to make this decision? “How did I get to this,” she said out loud to herself.
In a blur of white and blue the wedding went off without a glitch. Yeah, she had been a little late and the song that they had never rehearsed seemed to take forever, but it was all worth it. Michael looked amazing standing up on that platform, with tears in his eyes and now he looked amazing sitting across from her at the restaurant. Honeymoons were great. The wedding and the honeymoon were slightly different than she had planned as a young girl. Instead of her cliff in Scotland with crashing waves below, she was in a small church that had the faint smell of wet dog. Where were the horse drawn carriage and bagpipes? Here she was, 30 miles from home, cheap motel room with a red Whirlpool tub, a dinner in a small restaurant, and later cheap bowling. Instead of the elegant attire she had envisioned her guests in, the guests wore jeans or skirts so short their butts hung out. Oh, and we can’t forget the stoner father-in-law as the best man. She had always hoped Michael’s best friend would be standing there instead, but he was still away in the military. Oh, but forget all that. She was Mrs. Michael Dunn. Nothing else mattered. After all the pain and all the years they were one. Abby smiled at him, he smiled back and kissed her hand.
Abbey’s chest heaved as the sobbing started again. That wasn’t the first time things had not gone how she had planned. The date been changed three times and had it not been for income tax refund they would not have had rings. But, just being married to him was the only thing that mattered. He was her world, her reason for being. Then, Sam came and she had another reason.
“You'll have to have an epidural; otherwise we’ll have to do a c-section. The first one came out.” The doctor had a very concerned look on her face.
“Oh God, mom, pray for me. I don’t like this.” How mother began to silently pray in the corner as Michael supported her on the edge of the bed. “Michael, talk to me, I'm scared.” Abbey heard Michael singing to her and even though he couldn’t sing well it was beautiful. Beautiful that he cared and beautiful that he knew what she sang to herself when she was scared.
“Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, there’s just something about that name,” came the melodic words of the song her mother used to sing to her before bedtime. Finally after an hour the epidural was in and she lay down, exhausted. However, she was told she could not rest. “You’re 9 3/4 now. It's time to push.”
There by her side every moment, Michael held her legs so she could push. He was so supportive, saying anything encouraging that he could think of. She could feel his pride in her for handling things so well and just pride from being there in that moment that his child was to come into the world. “Come on, one last push. You can do it,” he encouraged. Abby took a deep breath and gave the final push. With a gush of excitement the doctor announced, “Well, it’s a boy.” Abbey cried. The suffocating breath she had been holding the whole pregnancy finally gushed out of her. Her body relaxed instantly and she couldn’t hold back tears. She had waited so long to know what they were having. Silently she had prayed the whole nine months for a girl, not knowing the first thing about boys. A dream only a few months ago had opened her up to the idea of having a boy. Looking at the little boy in the dream filled her with such an intense feeling of love, that she knew from that moment her hopes for a girl were gone. Still, she waited…holding her breath. Finally, she could breath. She had desperately wanted a girl, but she knew she’d love him, this handsome little boy, the same. She just held him and kissed him, and Michael.
A smile crossed her face when she remembered Sam’s arrival. A bit disappointed, again, that it was not her first choice, but she was so happy looking at his sweet face. Over the years she had missed little firsts because she had to work, but he’d usually repeat them at home that night. She and Michael had grown closer, instead of apart as so many others do. They just adored every part of Sam, together. But there were so many things he didn’t have. His clothes were hand-me-downs from his uncle’s, same with most of his toys. He had a baby bed that was falling apart, a walker that scared Abby when he was in it…he'd had nothing really. She had vowed that her second child would have better. The best of everything. Then her father’s health went from bad to worse. She quit her job because her parents could no longer care for her son and she wanted to be able to take care of her dad. Then, 3 months later, when February brought the death of her father, time began again as she cared for her mother the best that she could. A daddy’s girl for as long as she could remember, she and her mother were never close. Actually, they could anger and hurt each other incredibly well. Having her mother there, constantly in her life again, she was reminded that she was even a failure at being a daughter. She had always assumed her mother would go first because of her many illnesses, but she was still alive, and in many ways healthy. Another mild disappointment? In her heart she hated herself for thinking that way. Even if it was only for a moment, she still thought it and it saddened her.Already being four months pregnant she couldn’t get a job and she had to just wait it out. No money meant no new baby things. Just donations. All the baby had to sleep in was a playpen with a portable bassinet. No frilly bedding, no electric swing that swiveled. She failed again. She was the one that had quit her job-both times. She was the reason her kids didn’t have the things she had wished for them. Now, she was a failure as a mother, too. So far the only time she hadn’t failed was in college.
“So, you just graduated from college. Congratulations. What’s your degree in?” A lady asked her. She recognized her from last Sunday’s service, but didn’t know her name.“Early childhood education.”
“What can you do with that?”
“Well, uh, I can be a director of a center or a substitute at a school, run my own preschool that type of thing.”
“Oh, so you do babysitting?”
“Uh, no, I do childcare.”
“Same thing.” The woman patted her on the back like an adult to a naïve child and walked away with a laugh.
“Ugh!” A scream of disgust burst out of her. She yelled at the windshield, “I am not a babysitter!” She hated that term more than any other in the English language. Babysitters are teenagers that you hire for a night out. Childcare providers were people you trust with your children for days that lead into weeks, weeks into months, and months into years. They are trained to know everything about children and their development, not just what cable channels have cartoons.But was she only kidding herself? What was she really going to do with her degree? She had only started going to college when her employer advised her it was a good idea if she was going to be taking over the business. Now, after quitting because of her father’s illness, she no longer had that option. Growing up she had wanted to be a preacher, a lawyer, a singer, an architect, a designer, a photographer. She had so many dreams and hopes. She loved her family, but she had wanted so much more for herself. She wanted to be somebody. Then she met Michael, they got married, they had children. She thought going to college would validate her. That it would make her feel like somebody. But every time someone asked her what her degree was in and she told them, she just felt like that much more of a failure. Like she was a glorified babysitter. Oh, she hated that word.
“Michael, hey, it's me Abby. I just got off the phone. Someone responded to my resume. This guy named John just called and wants me to be a photographer for his company. I told him I’d love to! But there’s just one catch. I’d have to live in Chicago for three months and learn how to do it. He said my portfolio showed great potential, but I just need a little polishing.”
“Chicago, Illinois?”Abby laughed, excited and unnerved. “Yes, the Chicago in Illinois. They’ve got a special school there for photography.”
“I don’t know Abby. We’ll have to talk about this later. This seems crazy and I’m at work right now.”
“Well, I don’t have much time to talk about it. I have to leave tomorrow night to head up there. It's short notice but classes are getting ready to start.”
“Abby, we’ll have to talk about this at home.” Then Michael hung up on her. That certainly wasn’t like him. She must’ve caught him at a bad time.
Bad time. She should have known better. He was angry with her. She knew why but it just wasn’t fair. Her whole life she had waited to be something important. This was her chance to find herself. That night they had spoken briefly about it and he had been a good mood. She had felt confident that he saw things her way and supported her decision and Abby was beginning to get excited about the prospect of reinventing herself. However, as she had gotten ready the next evening he had become very upset…moody. At first he wouldn’t speak to her. She could feel the tension. She didn’t want to leave with him in a bad mood. She just had to ask: “Is there something wrong?”
“You’ve got an associate’s degree already. Why do you want to do this? You are being selfish.”
“This will make life better for us. Imagine what we can do for the kids with what I’ll make.”
“Can you make enough to pay them back? The baby is growing the most right now. Do you want to miss that?” Abigail began to cry at their raised voices and Michael stooped to pick her up. He lowered his voice to try to keep from upsetting her more.Abby’s heart began to ache looking at her baby girl, with tears in her eyes. She wanted to reach out and grab her from him and never let her go. “Take pictures and video. I don’t want to miss anything, but this is something I have to do. I’ll come home as much as I can. It’s only three months.”
“Abby, being here for them…me, that’s what you have to do.”She gave a heavy sigh. “You just don’t get it. I’ve waited for something like this my whole life.” She stared at him. Her eyes were pleading with him to understand, but she could see his mind was made up. “It’s not that far away. It’s only eight hours.”
“It’s not home, Abby.”
She stood by the front door. “Michael, I love you more than anything and your patience with me the last few years has been so amazing. You’ve never made me feel like I was wasting my time or like I was a horrible person for not being completely devoted to my family. This is it for me. I’ll only be three months, and then I’m yours. I belong to you…the kids. Michael, I’m going to be late if I don’t leave now. I have to go. I love you. I have to do this.” She turned to the door and put her hand on the door knob.
“Abby,” he said with hesitation, “if you walk out that door…I’m not sure what you’ll find when you get back.” She could hear his voice breaking. She could see the pain in his eyes. Did he mean it? Was he saying it as a last ditch effort to get her to stay? Brokenhearted she gazed at him, tears formed in her eyes. “I’m sorry.” The doorknob twisted in her hand and she stepped out onto the porch. Rain pounded on her head and her arms. She could feel his eyes on her back, waiting for her to turn around, but she couldn’t.
In the windshield in front of her she could see images of her family through the years as she did her best to find an answer to her question. The wedding, the birth of both of her children, the death of her father, and the addition of her mother to their home...it was all there. There was laughter, and there were tears. They were so close she could touch them.Abby reached out her hand for her future, grabbed the gearshift, threw the car in reverse, and backed out of the driveway.

Written for a college creative writing class.

Well, I have my blog for photography and ramblings. I decided tonight, after finding some things I had written in college and prior to, that I'd like to share them with the world.

If you see something you like, hold those right clicks people...these here words are copyrighted by me, Kendra Puckett.