Lydia (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thepainted_lady) wrote2010-06-18 05:13 pm
thepainted_lady) wrote2010-06-18 05:13 pm
[Just Prompts] June - Father (for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
offering_hope)
[ooc: Samuel is offering_hope and used with love and permission]
The sun was hot, beating down on on her skin as Lydia stood outside the clinic on the dusty street in the little town. Her stomach had calmed down for the most part, but nerves were threatening to make it rebel again. The last year had brought so much change, the world that she'd known, which had gone along so smoothly for fourteen years tilted all askew again, and she knew that it could tilt again on a whole new axis in a heartbeat. For all she wanted it, craved it, even, it was near terrifying to think, and for a moment she wished she'd asked someone--anyone--to come with her. But she didn't want to get Samuel's hopes up, and Edgar wasn't here, and the others...she just didn't know who to ask. Besides, if she was wrong, if this was just some lingering bug she wasn't shaking, then how embarrassing that would wind up being. It would have involved admitting what was just a secret hope still, a quiet dream between her and Samuel, and she wasn't ready to have that exposed if she was getting ahead of herself. With a soft sigh, she swallowed back her fear, and reached for the door, stepping into the air conditioned, sterile smelling room, and tried to make her stomach relax as memories come flooding back.
* * *
He didn't come with her to the clinic for her first ultrasound, saying he needed to work, to get them money if she was going to keep "it." The words stung, and she could barely breathe with fear while she waited, but when she watched the tiny heartbeat on the monitor, her fear slipped away, replaced by something so pure she didn't think that "love" was the right word for it, because it didn't encompass enough. Rushing back to the motel they were shacked up at, she kept the picture clutched tight to her chest, eyes lighting up as she came inside, sure that as soon as Danny saw it, he'd feel what she felt, see what she saw. But he didn't even look at the image, just tossing it aside as he pushed her down on the bed, lips and hands hungry and heedless of the sore and sensitive places her changing body had developed. She tried to deceive herself that it was out of love, excitement about being a father, starting a family with her, but every touch told her the truth, and after he fell asleep she moved to pick up the image, cradling it close to her, and promising the growing life inside of her that she'd find them both a better place.
* * *
They took blood first before the exam, so they could give her the results without as much waiting, but she still found herself cold, fingers brushing up and down her arms trying to keep them warm, careful of the band-aid. She wasn't used to this much air conditioning, the little window units in their trailers only used in the worst of the heat, and never to this degree of cold. Her heart was pounding hard enough that she felt her breathing effected, which wasn't doing good things for her stomach, and she had to smile a little bit. Her temperature had been normal enough the doctor had felt pretty certain she wasn't suffering from the flu. Her symptoms had been too sporadic for that. He didn't say much else, though, warning her only it would be very early to tell, but some women did get sick as early as the first or second week. Lucky her, if so. Her hand moved to brush softly over her stomach, feeling it clench, not wanting to hope anything, trying to force herself to breathe. The door opened, the doctor came back in, and she couldn't help reaching out with her gift, trying to read him before he could open his mouth to speak.
* * *
She watched him with the children in the evenings, tucked into a corner between trailer and canvas, out of the way and out of sight, while he told stories, squatting on the ground. They all adored him, gathered close in a circle with wide eyes and hanging on his every word. She'd loved to watch him even before their relationship took a turn from friendship to intimate, just basking in the warmth of the sense of family it always exuded. When she'd been younger, Joseph had done the storytelling, and she'd not cared if she was technically too old for stories--she loved sitting among them. Now she stood behind, and the feeling was different, but no less safe, no less home. With a smile, sometimes she'd close her eyes and just listen to the cadence of his voice, the excited questions and suggestions and pleas of the children interspersing, demanding more which he inevitably gave, and something in her seemed to melt beneath it. The past few weeks, when she opened her eyes and found him watching her over the children's heads, the melting feeling had tightened into something else, as a whole world of possibilities rolled out between them of a world that could be.
* * *
The pharmacy wasn't nearly as cold as the clinic had been, but Lydia was still anxious to get back outside, back out to the sun and earth, and the sounds of the carnival coming to life around her for the Friday night show. She looked at the list the doctor had written down for her of suggestions for vitamins and things she might find useful, especially given their nomadic lifestyle. Thankfully, the pharmacy seemed well stocked, and she found what she needed without frustrating the sense of urgency that was pressing down on her. She wanted to be home, wanted to find Samuel, wanted to see his face. Maybe then the fluttering under her breast would stop and she could really feel it was real. Heading to the front, though, she paused, distracted by a display, and let herself be drawn in, fingers drifting over things slowly. It wasn't the sort of display she'd looked at before, not even when she was back in the home with the shadow over it. There wasn't anything to celebrate there, nor had there been reason to since. If she'd thought about it with Joseph, a time or two, she hadn't wanted to presume. Now, though, she sifted through words, and pictures, and sentiments and had to fight back tears at some of them, picturing the years to come. Some of them made her ache, never having known anything like what was expressed, but she could see a world where she'd see it from the other side, and it made the breathless feeling that much more, but in such a good way she couldn't stop the smile.
She picked one out, finally, this strange ritual so new to her, then made her purchases and headed back out of town to where the carnival had set up camp for the weekend. Finding Samuel, she brushed a kiss over his cheek, murmuring in passing, "Come find me when you have a minute..." then headed on to get ready for the night.
In her own trailer, she took the card out to have ready for him, knowing there was no way she was going to make it to Sunday, but wanting to see his face when he opened it. She signed it simply, "The first of many to come ~ Happy Father's Day ~ Love, Lydia.
What Makes a Dad
God took the strength of a mountain,
The majesty of a tree,
The warmth of a summer sun,
The calm of a quiet sea,
The generous soul of nature,
The comforting arm of night,
The wisdom of the ages,
The power of the eagle's flight,
The joy of a morning in spring,
The faith of a mustard seed,
The patience of eternity,
The depth of a family need,
Then God combined these qualities,
When there was nothing more to add,
He knew His masterpiece was complete,
And so, He called it ... Dad
offering_hope and used with love and permission]The sun was hot, beating down on on her skin as Lydia stood outside the clinic on the dusty street in the little town. Her stomach had calmed down for the most part, but nerves were threatening to make it rebel again. The last year had brought so much change, the world that she'd known, which had gone along so smoothly for fourteen years tilted all askew again, and she knew that it could tilt again on a whole new axis in a heartbeat. For all she wanted it, craved it, even, it was near terrifying to think, and for a moment she wished she'd asked someone--anyone--to come with her. But she didn't want to get Samuel's hopes up, and Edgar wasn't here, and the others...she just didn't know who to ask. Besides, if she was wrong, if this was just some lingering bug she wasn't shaking, then how embarrassing that would wind up being. It would have involved admitting what was just a secret hope still, a quiet dream between her and Samuel, and she wasn't ready to have that exposed if she was getting ahead of herself. With a soft sigh, she swallowed back her fear, and reached for the door, stepping into the air conditioned, sterile smelling room, and tried to make her stomach relax as memories come flooding back.
* * *
He didn't come with her to the clinic for her first ultrasound, saying he needed to work, to get them money if she was going to keep "it." The words stung, and she could barely breathe with fear while she waited, but when she watched the tiny heartbeat on the monitor, her fear slipped away, replaced by something so pure she didn't think that "love" was the right word for it, because it didn't encompass enough. Rushing back to the motel they were shacked up at, she kept the picture clutched tight to her chest, eyes lighting up as she came inside, sure that as soon as Danny saw it, he'd feel what she felt, see what she saw. But he didn't even look at the image, just tossing it aside as he pushed her down on the bed, lips and hands hungry and heedless of the sore and sensitive places her changing body had developed. She tried to deceive herself that it was out of love, excitement about being a father, starting a family with her, but every touch told her the truth, and after he fell asleep she moved to pick up the image, cradling it close to her, and promising the growing life inside of her that she'd find them both a better place.
* * *
They took blood first before the exam, so they could give her the results without as much waiting, but she still found herself cold, fingers brushing up and down her arms trying to keep them warm, careful of the band-aid. She wasn't used to this much air conditioning, the little window units in their trailers only used in the worst of the heat, and never to this degree of cold. Her heart was pounding hard enough that she felt her breathing effected, which wasn't doing good things for her stomach, and she had to smile a little bit. Her temperature had been normal enough the doctor had felt pretty certain she wasn't suffering from the flu. Her symptoms had been too sporadic for that. He didn't say much else, though, warning her only it would be very early to tell, but some women did get sick as early as the first or second week. Lucky her, if so. Her hand moved to brush softly over her stomach, feeling it clench, not wanting to hope anything, trying to force herself to breathe. The door opened, the doctor came back in, and she couldn't help reaching out with her gift, trying to read him before he could open his mouth to speak.
* * *
She watched him with the children in the evenings, tucked into a corner between trailer and canvas, out of the way and out of sight, while he told stories, squatting on the ground. They all adored him, gathered close in a circle with wide eyes and hanging on his every word. She'd loved to watch him even before their relationship took a turn from friendship to intimate, just basking in the warmth of the sense of family it always exuded. When she'd been younger, Joseph had done the storytelling, and she'd not cared if she was technically too old for stories--she loved sitting among them. Now she stood behind, and the feeling was different, but no less safe, no less home. With a smile, sometimes she'd close her eyes and just listen to the cadence of his voice, the excited questions and suggestions and pleas of the children interspersing, demanding more which he inevitably gave, and something in her seemed to melt beneath it. The past few weeks, when she opened her eyes and found him watching her over the children's heads, the melting feeling had tightened into something else, as a whole world of possibilities rolled out between them of a world that could be.
* * *
The pharmacy wasn't nearly as cold as the clinic had been, but Lydia was still anxious to get back outside, back out to the sun and earth, and the sounds of the carnival coming to life around her for the Friday night show. She looked at the list the doctor had written down for her of suggestions for vitamins and things she might find useful, especially given their nomadic lifestyle. Thankfully, the pharmacy seemed well stocked, and she found what she needed without frustrating the sense of urgency that was pressing down on her. She wanted to be home, wanted to find Samuel, wanted to see his face. Maybe then the fluttering under her breast would stop and she could really feel it was real. Heading to the front, though, she paused, distracted by a display, and let herself be drawn in, fingers drifting over things slowly. It wasn't the sort of display she'd looked at before, not even when she was back in the home with the shadow over it. There wasn't anything to celebrate there, nor had there been reason to since. If she'd thought about it with Joseph, a time or two, she hadn't wanted to presume. Now, though, she sifted through words, and pictures, and sentiments and had to fight back tears at some of them, picturing the years to come. Some of them made her ache, never having known anything like what was expressed, but she could see a world where she'd see it from the other side, and it made the breathless feeling that much more, but in such a good way she couldn't stop the smile.
She picked one out, finally, this strange ritual so new to her, then made her purchases and headed back out of town to where the carnival had set up camp for the weekend. Finding Samuel, she brushed a kiss over his cheek, murmuring in passing, "Come find me when you have a minute..." then headed on to get ready for the night.
In her own trailer, she took the card out to have ready for him, knowing there was no way she was going to make it to Sunday, but wanting to see his face when he opened it. She signed it simply, "The first of many to come ~ Happy Father's Day ~ Love, Lydia.
God took the strength of a mountain,
The majesty of a tree,
The warmth of a summer sun,
The calm of a quiet sea,
The generous soul of nature,
The comforting arm of night,
The wisdom of the ages,
The power of the eagle's flight,
The joy of a morning in spring,
The faith of a mustard seed,
The patience of eternity,
The depth of a family need,
Then God combined these qualities,
When there was nothing more to add,
He knew His masterpiece was complete,
And so, He called it ... Dad