Passing Through

 “I’ve never seen myself look so big.” 

I turned sideways in front of the bedroom mirror, embracing my belly with small but strong hands. “It should be any day now.”

His hands on my neck and shoulders were warm to the touch. “Watcha doin’?”

“Oh, nothing.” I sighed deeply, watching my belly deflate slowly, like a balloon exhaling its breath. and walked to the door of the room, The Legos strewn about in the hallway left mere inches of clear runway for me to make my exit. 

“Guys, please come pick up your toys in the hallway.” I went back to the bedroom, making my way to our yellow bathroom for the fifth time today. The peace accompanying the temporary isolation was soon met with ice cold, ceramic shock. I hurried out of the bathroom as soon as possible, fiercely making a path through the dark but yellow corridor, still riddled with toys. I turned on the light for the third time today, so I could see where I was going. 

“Why did you leave the seat up? I went to sit down, and nearly bottomed out.”

He erupted with laughter. “Why didn’t you look first before you sat down?” 

I quietly hushed my anger with a low growl. The lioness within wanted out. I would dare not let her. Not yet.

I observed the messy house, and, finding signs of boy life everywhere, I went outside on my back porch. The mid-April sun felt inviting and provided a warmth missing for the past six months. A heavy breeze passed through, forcing me to lower the umbrella so it would not fly away. Walking back inside, I was drawn to the loveseat covered with clean baby laundry. I folded the pajama shirt with the dog on it, exclaiming to the world, “Life is Ruff.” Tell me about it. I smiled and laid the perfect square on top of the couch. “By the way, don’t forget to call your father. His birthday is this weekend.”

He smacked his forehead with a concussive force. “I forgot about that!” He opened his laptop. “I’m not going to be here during the day this Saturday.” The click of the keyboard rattled me as he began to type. 

I sat down with a pair of socks in my hands. “What do you mean?”

He leaned back against the couch. “I’m behind on a project at work, and they need me to do overtime.” He closed the lid to his computer. 

“But we have plans to go out that day, don’t you remember?” I balled up the socks, throwing them one at a time into the basket. 

“Oh no!” Once again the force of despair hit him harder than a block of ice to the head. “We need to reschedule.”

“But I’ve been looking forward to this for two weeks!”

Standing at the edge of the living room, he bent down and picked up a dirty yellow nail two feet from his shoes. “Where did this come from?” It had almost fallen into the crack where the baseboards should have been. It had landed flush against the wall, making it barely discernible against the backdrop of the sunshine colored walls. 

My jaws clenched up, and I crossed my arms in front of me. “Why does it matter? Your distraction technique isn’t working on me. Do you really need to reschedule?”

“I don’t know what else to do! Do you want me to get fired? And don’t you want me to have a good relationship with my dad?” 

I looked at the diamond rings on my left hand. The sweat and swelling emanating from my fingers made them unbearable to wear. I took them off, one by one, and sat them on the ledge of the kitchen window. I could feel a contraction coming on, and knew fresh air and a walk would do me good. In the self-made silence, the rings clinked together as they landed on the dark, brown wood. It had just been painted, and was already showing signs of peeling. Nothing lasts forever anymore, I quietly reminded myself. I turned the brass-colored knob, and stepped out, the door slamming shut behind me.

But, honestly, it was just the wind.

 ∞

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April 8, 2026