Ticklemeemma's Blog

‘Me, I’ll take her laughter and her tears, and make them all my souvenirs’

Having bundled Heather into the back of his car, Sherman made the frantic drive to the hospital. He had never done this before, he had no idea how long her labour could last. He was racking his brains for what had happened when his sister had her twins, how long it had taken, what his mother had done. He was now regretting paying more attention to the television than his mother when she had been telling him about it, and mentally kicking himself for shying away from the occasions when his parents had talked about the infamous facts of life. He was also starting to discover the real benefits of having his own patrol car; switching the lights on carved him a clear path through the evening traffic all the way to the hospital.

Abandoning the car on the pavement outside the hospital, he had pulled a pain-addled Heather from the back seat, draped her arms around his shoulders and struggled into the hospital with her, where they were hurriedly taken to the maternity ward. Engulfed by a sudden rush of doctors and nurses, Heather was taken into another room while he was left where he was. A broad-shouldered nurse with red hair tied back tightly into a bun approached him. ‘Are you her husband, sir?’ She asked, looking over the top of her glasses at him. It was a simple enough question, and yet he couldn’t think of the answer. His mind was still back at the house, still trying to process what was happening. All he could manage was a blank look and half a stammer. The nurse gave him a puzzled yet slightly amused look and politely explained that if he wasn’t family, he would have to stay outside. Sinking down into one of the squeaky green leather chairs that lined the walls of the sterile white hallway, he began to think that was probably for the best. He had heard all the glorious stories of men who watched their wives give birth, but now hearing the commotion coming from the room they had taken Heather into, decided he really wasn’t that desperate to see the ‘wonder’ that was birth.

He watched the same red-haired nurse rush backwards and forwards from different rooms several times. She had been in and out of Heather’s room at least 6 times by his count. Finally, she stopped long enough to acknowledge his presence. ‘You’re in for a bit of a wait,’ she smiled a tired half-smile ‘I’d go for a walk if you want to kill some time, we’ll put an announcement out if anything happens’. She then continued with her rushing around. Sherman still had absolutely no desire to go into the room. The noise had quieted down a little now and he had risked a peek through the door, which only confirmed that he really did not want to be in that room at that precise moment. He decided to take the nurse’s advice and go for a walk. He passed rooms with newly formed families in, proud new fathers doting over their swaddled new babies, mothers surrounded by cards, teddies and flowers. He hadn’t done any of that, it had never occurred to him he had to buy a gift for the occasion. Further down the hallway, he found himself in a small canteen area, with a few small tables and a coffee machine. Sitting at one of the tables staring into his coffee was another man. He was so gone in his own thoughts that he didn’t even notice Sherman come in, and jumped when the coffee machine hissed into life as he had started to make himself a cup. Sherman nodded to him and smiled weakly as he took a seat at another table with his coffee, quickly assuming the position of staring down into his cup. A few hours ago he was getting ready to leave. He still had all his belongings in the car. And now he was here, about to become a father.

He had trudged the path up and down the hall from the canteen to outside Heather’s room so many times that he was convinced he’d start to wear a hole in the green linoleum on the floor. He sank back down into the chair, which had not become any more comfortable as the night went on, with his head back against the wall, staring at the clock opposite him. He’d watched it tick round to nearly 3am so far, and he had no idea how much longer he was going to be there. He could feel his heavy eyelids just starting to droop as he watched the second hand drag itself slowly around the clock face…

He woke with a start, to the same red-haired nurse leaning over him, gently shaking his shoulder. She was still wearing that tired smile as she looked down at him ‘You should go in now’ she said softly. It took him a second or so to adjust to his surroundings, he didn’t immediately register where he was. He rubbed his eyes and got heavily to his feet before starting to prepare himself to go in. He didn’t know what he had missed while he had been asleep, or what he was about to walk into. He had just got his hand on the door handle, when he heard Heather give a loud, gutteral scream – quickly followed by the high-pitched yelp of a new-born child. He opened the door just in time to see the doctor handing her a tiny pink mass of blankets. Heather looked over at him, sweat and tears dripping down her face, her long brown hair clinging around her cheeks and shoulders. ‘It’s a girl, Sher’ she whispered hoarsely ‘We’ve got a baby girl’.

Charlotte Heather Bagley was born at 4.18AM, weighing a healthy 7lbs 5oz with her mother’s brown hair and her father’s brown eyes.

‘I’m forever yours, Faithfully’

Driving his car up the deserted road that lead to what used to be his home, Sherman was beginning to feel very sick. This was a stupid idea, he should have gone earlier in the day when he had the chance, not hung around to say goodbyes. He hadn’t needed to say goodbyes the first time, why did he feel the need to do it now? Parking his car out round the corner out of sight of the house, as had become the habit, he weaved through the trees opposite the kitchen windows and stood in the shadows, just looking. He wasn’t planning to stay long, he had somewhere else to be. A friend had offered to put him up for a couple of days, but he had to drive for a few hours to get there. It was getting dark, and he really didn’t want to drive all night to get there.

Mentally berating himself for thinking this could possibly have been a good idea, he turned back towards the trees to make the final walk back to his car. That was when he heard it, the familiar squeak of their kitchen door opening – he never had managed to get it to stop squeaking. He risked a peek over his shoulder as he started to walk away, just catching the silhouette of his heavily pregnant wife leaning on the door frame, peering out into the darkness. He stopped where he was and turned to look back at her. She was calling his name, although her voice was unsure, she probably couldn’t see properly if it was him or not. She sounded tired, drained. Not the melodic tones he was used to hearing from her when she called his name. He inched back towards the edge of the trees where he could see her better. Framed by the dim kitchen light, she still looked beautiful, despite the fact she was clearly not well. She looked to be struggling to stand and had her fingers tightly laced across her swollen stomach.

Unfortunately for Sherman, coming out of the trees made him more visible, and he knew Heather had seen him. She wasn’t calling him anymore, just leaning on the door frame. He could see the tears running down her cheeks, glistening in the moonlight. His heart ached for her, and he found himself crossing the road and making his was up the familiar garden path towards her. As he got closer, she backed into the house, collapsing to her knees on the kitchen floor. He followed her, kneeling down beside her with his arms around her. She almost looked relieved as she leant her head into the groove between his neck and shoulders. Turning her blue eyes up to his, she gasped ‘my waters broke… an hour ago’.

Sherman panicked as he pulled her to her feet, she was still clearly struggling to stand. He had to get her to the hospital. Suddenly all thoughts of leaving had gone, leaving him only with the thought of getting his beautiful wife somewhere safe to give birth – and getting his first child into the world.

‘You’ve got a hole in your heart, I found a four-leaf clover’

Sherman had plenty of time to do his soul-searching. He had spent weeks running from place to place, trying to get his head around what exactly it was he wanted. He would still trek into work every day, and spend hours staring blankly at his computer screen for inspiration; but none came. He had spent more nights than he cared to mention sleeping in the back of his newly acquired patrol car, or sleeping on the floors of his friend’s kitchens.

He still had the golden band around his finger from his marriage to Heather, and yet he had come to realise that he had abandoned her in the most despicable way possible. At the time, it seemed the best thing he could do, to run away and let her find her security somewhere else. But as time had gone on, he begun to crave her – not that he’d admit to it though. His last thoughts at night had begun to turn towards the lumpy bed in her garish pink bedroom, to lying beside her, listening to her ramble on about her plans for the house until he fell asleep. He had originally relished not having to put up with her cooking any more, but after a while, the re-heated bowls of soup he was living off began to lose their appeal. Suddenly, one of Heather’s half-cooked meals was exactly what he needed, followed by mopping up the puddle under the kitchen sink before settling down on the sofa for an hour or so.

Heather hadn’t seen him since he had reached the promotion that came with his own patrol car, and sometimes he would drive past the house knowing she wouldn’t recognise the car, just to check up on her. He had seen her out in the garden, carrying on like he had never gone away – like he had never been there in the first place. Maybe she didn’t need him back, she seemed to be getting on fine by herself. And who was he to ruin her life any more than he already had?

He had gone back for one final look at the house, at his wife. Everything told him it was a bad idea, that he should just take his decision and run with it without looking back, and yet he still felt compelled to go for one last drive out into the sticks, just to say his own quiet goodbye that he hadn’t had the courage to say the first time.

‘And I ran, I ran so far away’

Heather had no clue how long she had been sitting on the bathroom floor for, Sherman had always said that of all the rooms in the house that required a clock, the bathroom was not one of them. She finally heard the familiar squeak of the front door as it opened and softly clicked shut again. Sherman had gone. And that was fine. Fine, if he didn’t want to be a father to his child, she would have to be both parents to this little life growing inside her. She would find someone else eventually, and would bring the child up as a proper family, like her mother had done. A proper family; mum, dad, and a coach load of brothers and sisters. And she would make it work. She would have to. She carried on the normal daily routine as if Sherman was still there. House kept tidy, garden maintained, hot meals cooked at tea time. Some small part of her still hoped one night he’d come home from work and sit down to a half burnt meal the way he always did, but he never did come home. She would find herself sitting at the table waiting for him, as she always did, looking eagerly out of the window for the headlights of his carpool to appear up the road. But they never did. She lived so far out-of-town that cars barely ever used the road, so now she hardly saw anyone. She had sworn to herself she would be out and about looking for a man who would stand by her, despite her situation, within a week or so. Time was dragging on, and she had no urge to leave the house for anything. Besides, there were always things that needed doing. The kitchen and bathroom sinks bore her no consideration when they broke, and she dutifully fixed them, despite the fact her stomach was now getting so huge she was struggling to reach the taps.

The garden continued to require her attention, long after bending down became almost impossible due to her ever-increasing bump. At least she had some comfort in knowing that neither she, nor her baby would go hungry. Although small, her garden was very fruitful. It also gave her a clear view of the road and anything that may be coming from either direction. Just in case.

Selling the extra fruit she grew eventually added up to enough cash to build a small extension to her home, a tiny nursery leading off her bedroom. It took her plenty of blood sweat and tears to finish, but finish it she did. Plus, the project served to take her mind off the black hole of loneliness that was gradually consuming her life.

‘Our lives are made, in these small hours’

Heather found she fell quickly into the routines of married life, after all, it wasn’t wholly different to how things had been before they were married. She still got up every morning after Sherman left for work, tidied the house and tended to the garden. She still made sure there was a hot dinner ready on the table for when he arrived home. His change of job was really starting to have a good effect on him, he was a great deal more positive about his job and the promotions were coming his way thick and fast. For once in both of their lives, they had enough money to live comfortably and not have to worry about bills; or the Repoman.

Unfortunately for Heather, she was really struggling to enjoy their new found windfalls. She was near constantly feeling ill. Getting up in the morning, the first thing she did before starting any household chores was to make a headlong dash for the bathroom. It had been going on for weeks, and she had no idea why. All she could attribute it to was their stove, it was one part of the house they hadn’t yet had chance to upgrade. Consequently, almost everything she cooked was either burnt or raw, or even half burnt half raw – and it wasn’t like she was the best cook in the world, without a faulty stove.

One morning after spending almost an hour on her knees on the bathroom floor, she made a pleading call to her mother for help. ‘I can’t go on like this’ she explained to her mum ‘I can’t eat anything, and what I can eat tastes weird. I can’t spend any time outside for want of throwing up. I don’t know what’s wrong with me!’. Her mother chuckled heartily. ‘Oh Heather,’ she laughed ‘How can you not have realised? You’re pregnant! I had all the same signs when I was first pregnant with your brother…’ She didn’t wait to hear what else her mother had to say, but dropped the phone to the floor in shock.

She showered, tidied herself up and wandered to the town hospital. She could remember talking to a young gentleman doctor when she first moved to the area, maybe he could help her. He happily showed her to his office, and after a few simple tests confirmed what she already knew – she was expecting her first child. He grinned across his desk at her and offered his hearty congratulations; she knew she should be happy, after all, she had always wanted a big family, but all she could think of was how she was going to tell Sherman.

She was waiting in the kitchen for him when he arrived home from work, barely letting him get through the door before she attempted to break the news. She had spent an agonising afternoon contemplating the best way to tell him, and had finally settled on the nice straight-forward approach. This didn’t seem like a topic it would be appropriate to sugar coat. With her most appealing smile, she started to deliver the breaking news to him. ‘Sher, baby,’ she gushed ‘I’m pregnant!’.

He looked taken aback for a moment, just standing and staring at her while trying to process the information. She couldn’t be pregnant. No way, things had only just started to work out for them, and now this? He felt a flash of hot anger rush through him. ‘You’re what?’ he asked, voice lowered ‘And you’re going to keep it? Knowing that we barely make it by as we are? And where would we put it? There’s barely enough room to breathe in this place!’

Heather didn’t know what else to do, she thought he’d be pleased. Their little family was about to expand, and yet all he could do was yell and shoot her evil glances. She ran for the bathroom once more and sat with her back pressed against the door, letting the hot tears stream down her face. Sherman meanwhile sank into the sofa, head in his hands, wondering what he’d done – and what he was going to do.

‘Don’t whisper love, and dream of wedding bells’

The wedding day rolled around all to quickly for Sherman, and far too slowly for Heather. She had everything planned, guest lists, the venue, everything. It was to be held at ‘The Gazebo’, a pretty little park at the end of the town. She felt beautiful with her hair down and wearing her mother’s wedding dress that had been handed down to her. That would be a family tradition she would never break: that dress was going to be passed down to her daughter as well, when she had one. She was going to have the wedding of her dreams, at sunset, surrounded by friends. That is, if she could get Sherman to stop jittering in the corner.

The ceremony itself was short and sweet, an exchange of rings and sweet nothings while the onlookers clapped and cried. All of them that is, with the exception of a girl with red hair that Heather had never seen before. She looked thoroughly angry at the whole thing, apparently unable to stop glaring at Sherman long enough to enjoy any part of the wedding. Heather decided to ignore the woman and enjoy her evening, she couldn’t please everyone regardless of how hard she tried.

Sherman, on the other hand, had spotted the girl with the red hair and knew exactly why she was so angry. Ruby Broke, one of the girls he had run away from when things got too serious. She had their whole future planned out, staying on the family trailer park, him raising a horde of children while she kept her job at the spa. She never forgave him after his mysterious disappearance one night while she was in the bathroom. He wasn’t surprised she had found out he was getting married, she found out most things like that through knowing everyone in the town. What he hadn’t expected, however, was her to appear at his wedding. All through the ceremony he was silently praying she would leave him alone, and he couldn’t have been more relieved when the proceedings were over and she hadn’t said or done anything, other than her angry stare burning into the back of his neck.

After the ceremony came the one part of the day Sherman hadn’t been worrying about. Heather had made him wait; they lived together, they slept in the same bed, and yet there had been none of that. ‘Ladies don’t do that until they’re married’, her mother had always told her.

‘You’ll start to wonder how you ever make it by, You’ll wonder if you were born blind’

Sherman had a dilemma on his hands. He had only just managed to escape from the controlling will of his mother, and suddenly he was falling into the clutches of another woman, one who wanted all the stability of a family home. He wasn’t totally convinced he was ready for that, to have every waking hour dedicated to a wife and children. It wasn’t that he wanted anyone else, more that he wanted to be himself for a while. He had spent most of his time since his late teenage years running from women who wanted him to play husband, he just didn’t feel ready for it. And yet, he could see what he was doing to Heather, when all he wanted to do was make her happy. He was going to have to make a decision: jump in at the deep end, marry the girl and be happy about it, or leave her to find someone else who would make her happy and keep running away.

He made his call. Heather had been one of the best things to come his way, and he really did think they had a good thing going. He would be stupid to throw it away over something as simple as having cold feet. He was going to marry her. And he was going to be happy about it…

‘You’ve got my heart in a headlock’

Heather had found herself quickly settling into a routine of running her own little household. She would get up after Sherman had left for work and tidy the bedroom, shower and have breakfast before spending most of the day out in the garden looking after her many plants. She was always sure to have the house clean and tidy with a hot meal on the table for when Sherman came home; he earned the money to keep the house, she couldn’t expect him to help maintain it as well. She was, however, becoming aware of how time was slipping away from her. She had spent so long playing house that she hadn’t noticed how the time had flown by. Her birthday was fast approaching, and every time she spoke to her mother she was reminded that, at her age, she was married with three children and a fourth on the way, despite their busy farm life.

She couldn’t help but worry. It had taken Sherman long enough to make her his girlfriend, and she wasn’t getting any younger. What if he never popped the question? The thought of growing old and remaining unmarried and childless, even if it was with her dream man, terrified Heather. Her older brothers were both married with children, and as far as she had seen, they were both happy. Their wives were happy. She wanted to be happy, she wanted a house full of happy memories and children – she wanted to be Mrs Sherman Bagley. Besides, her mother would never forgive her if she broke the family tradition.

Sherman, on the other hand, had begun to notice the difference in Heather. She had started withdrawing into herself like he had never seen before. She seemed to spend more time out in the garden than she did with him, she would always have eaten before he got home and always had so much to do that she couldn’t possibly sit and talk to him about his day. She would be outside until long after he had gone to bed, finally crawling into bed with him sometime in the early hours of the morning. She was spending so much time in her own head that it was almost like he had rudely interrupted an unhearable conversation when he spoke to her. He didn’t think it was a question of whether she still loved him, she still looked at him the same way, she still treated him as she always had. He just felt like he was wasting her time now.

‘A Daydream Believer & A Homecoming Queen’

Time started moving forward very quickly for Heather and Sherman. He was spending more and more time at her house, often staying over with her. If his mother asked, it was because her house was closer to his work, and he slept on the sofa. Truth be told, he didn’t like going home. His older sister had moved back in with her twins, and it suddenly wasn’t as peaceful there as it used to be. His beloved vegetable patch had been turned upside-down and gutted to make room for a swing set, and he had found himself sharing his bedroom with a pair of screaming toddlers. Besides, things had really started to take off with their relationship. He was happy to spend his spare hours helping Heather in her garden, or repeatedly fixing the seemingly permanently leaking kitchen sink.

His job meant that he was always out of the house long before Heather got up. He wasn’t a huge fan of mornings either, and had been trying to change his job for months. His mother had pushed him into joining the army as soon as he left school, prodding him with the ‘be an upstanding young man’ lecture. He had joined with dreams of guns and action, but the truth of the matter was, he was a glorified pot washer, and he hated every minute he spent up to his elbows in dirty dishwater. As a child, he had always wanted to enter the police force and work in CSI, like the men he had grown up watching on the television. That dream was abandoned when his mother decided it was a waste of time.

Sitting down to dinner that night with Heather, he decided it was time for a change. He hadn’t been home in days, his mother was too preoccupied with his sister and her twins to worry about what he was doing right now. He could start doing all the things he had always wanted to do but had never had the chance – starting with changing his job. He craved the normality of a 9-5, something that would leave him with time at the end of the day for hobbies and other things. Heather agreed with him, he had spent far too long following what mother said was best for him. Although quietly to herself, she worried about what taking such a huge pay cut would do to his financial situation. Neither of them had a great deal, and deliberately losing money seemed to be asking for trouble.

‘Bewitched, Bothered & Bewildered’

Sherman Bagley. Heather kept running that name around in her head, his name. She had been back to the garden several times since she had first seen him there picking apples for his mother. She would return nearly every evening and perch on the wall, chatting to him while he collected vegetables for the family, or while he ambled around doing his apparent chores. Conversation had started out tentatively, about the weather or his vegetable patch, but they were fast becoming friends. Heather had found him waiting for her on several occasions when she had been late going to see him. He almost looked pleased to see her now when she would hop over the wall into their small orchard.

Finally, after several weeks of watching him potter around his garden, Heather got up the nerve to ask him back to her home. He gladly accepted, throwing his handful of weeds into the compost bin before shouting to his mother that he was going out.

Time wore on, and Sherman would start to go to Heather’s house straight after finishing work in the Mess Hall, rather than going home. He was genuinely becoming quite fond of her. She seemed to appreciate him for who he was and what he did, constantly amazed by his unrivaled acts of manliness, unlike his mother who just seemed to order him around all of the time. Plus, it was incredibly apparent that she liked a man in uniform.

Heather’s mother always told her, young ladies never make the first move, it just isn’t the done thing. You must wait for him to make his move. She had waited. And waited. And waited some more. He never made his move, always turning red and shifting about awkwardly, before lightly kissing her on the cheek and running home before she could say anything. Finally tired of biding her time, Heather spent that evening making polite conversation about his day at work, waiting for him to make his usual excuse about having to be home for dinner and bend to kiss her forehead. Grabbing his shoulders, she pushed her lips to his and hoped for the best…

Following him outside to wave him off, Sherman took her by suprise when he turned back to her and blurted out ‘You should be my girlfriend.’ Heather stared at him for a second, trying to process what he had just said. She had spent weeks trying to win him over, and he was now  finally taking the hint – and yet she suddenly felt completely out of her depth. Sherman was grinning at her bewilderment ‘I’ll take that as a yes then,’ he laughed ‘Besides, I’ve kissed you now, you have to be my girlfriend’. And with that, he turned on his heel and left her standing open mouthed in her front garden.