I felt uneasy and for once, it was completely justified. Ever since I'd heard the news, there'd been a knot in my stomach, becoming tighter and tighter as the weeks went on and now, it was in such a state that I felt sick just thinking about what was happening.
"Charlotte, stop overreacting," my sister, Emma, said as we stood in the kitchen. I was nursing a cup of green tea and gnawing on my lip while watching the scene outside. "She will be fine."
I snap my head back towards her and glare. "How do you know that? She'll die, Emma. Why am I the only one that understands this?"
"I think your maternal instincts have kicked in too early," Sophie blurted out as she went about buttering some toast. Smothering one slice, she placed it on a plate and slid it across to me. "Eat your breakfast, Charlotte. You'll feel better after."
Just hearing my sister saying these stupid things spurred me into action. Bypassing the breakfast that Sophie had prepared for me, I threw open the patio door and marched my way across the patio towards the green garden that was just beyond the low wall that separated both areas. My father saw me approaching first and he looked up from the task he was completing, a mildly amused grin on his face.
"What is it now, Charlotte?" He asked, his voice thoroughly bored. He knew exactly what I was going to say because I've been saying it for the past few days, phoning him early in the morning or late at night to express my unhappiness at what was going on. Despite his promises that nothing bad would happen, I couldn't take his word as law. "I already told you that she would come back alive, what else can I say to make you believe that?"
"You could call the whole thing off," I suggest. At hearing this, Martha jumps to her feet and stares at me like I've gone crazy. Knowing that I could reap better results if I spoke to her, tried to get her to understand my viewpoint, I start my Stop The Trip campaign with her. "Martha, you don't know what these people are like. The only outcome is that someone will either end up dead, dying, or disowned. You're going to fall off the cliffside, end up in a coma, and if you come around, I will not be there to nurse you back to health because I will have told you not to go! Do not go!"
The rational side of me knew that I was going crazy, but when someone you love is in danger, you throw caution to rationality. Craziness takes over and that's what I was living and breathing. We knew weeks ago that Dad was taking Martha on a trip but recently, they had been going into overdrive in the planning of it all and now they had set a date, I was becoming more and more nervous about letting Martha go.
Isaac wasn't worried, though. He was so laid back about it all that he was practically horizontal. He would tell me not to worry about it, that my father wouldn't let anything happen to Martha, and that, anyway, Martha was old enough to make her own decisions. I scoffed at his words, reminding him of the last trip my father had organised.
It was Daniel's stag party and as I recall, none of the men came back feeling particularly fresh. I suppose going to a live action war simulation with guns and grenades would do that to a person. They were battered for days after and for most of them, their egos were as bruised as their skin. At least Dad never got around to shaving off their eyebrows. He was too drunk to be able to wield a razor. Isaac laughed at his memories of that night.
All I'm saying is this- I do not trust my father to take care of Martha and bring her back in one piece.
"Charlotte, we're only doing the Three Peaks Challenge," Martha casually tells me, even though I already know what their trip involved. "Climbing the three highest mountains in Scotland, England and Wales is not going to result in me dead, dying, or disowned."
"I wouldn't be so sure about the last one," I grumbled. Folding my arms across my chest, I stare at the three Bergen bags that littered the grass, the contents of which were strewn around them, and suddenly feel queasier than before. "Oh, dear God, why are there three bags? Who else is going with you?"
Before anyone had the chance to answer, I posed my own theory. "Lucas?"
Neither my father nor Martha answered, which for me, was confirmation enough. Just as I thought my father had reached peak stupidity in taking Martha on the trip, he was dragging Lucas along, too?
It was barbaric. Utterly stupid. Dad was moronic.
"Lucas?" I screamed into the deepest, darkest pits of the house when I stormed back into the kitchen. When he didn't respond, I shouted again, making Sophie and Emma look at me as if I were cracking up. Sighing, I point out to the garden where our father was. "That dipshit is taking Lucas with him on the trip. You know, Lucas, our brother who had a lung transplant not even a year ago!"
My sisters looked non-plussed. "Why am I the only one who cares?!"
Oh, no. This was it. The moment my breakdown was coming. I could feel my eyes burning and my throat constricting as my emotions performed a hostile takeover. Sitting on a chair at the table, I placed my feet on the chair opposite and threw my head back, trying to breathe evenly in an attempt to calm myself down. Isaac had taught me that if I count out numbers out of order that my anxiety would lessen quicker but right now, I didn't even bother trying.
Maybe I need to lie down. That could help. No, that wouldn't do. I needed to get out of here away from all the stressors. Jumping onto my feet- well, not exactly jumping because having Nugget in my uterus made quick movements impossible- I grabbed my car keys and handbag and rushed for the door.
The drive into the nearest village only took five minutes but in that time, I'd received seven calls and fifteen text messages from various people. It wasn't until I had parked the car that I looked to see who the callers and senders were, noticing Isaac's name on the screen as the most recent caller.
I knew he would be worried about me. Obviously, someone had called him and told him of my runner and I knew better than to ignore him for too long. Turning the ignition off, I pressed the call option against Isaac's name and waited for the call to go through.
"I know you're probably worried about me-"
"Worried?" Isaac's confusion was clear in his tone of voice. I could feel a shift in the silence on Isaac's end and when he next spoke, I knew that if he wasn't worried before, he was now. "What's happened? What's going on? I'm on my way to your parent's house and wanted to give you the heads up. Lottie, are you ok?"
Gulping, I nod to myself, even though I know Isaac can't see me. "I needed to get out of the house. No one there took my concerns seriously, so I fled. I'm in the village about to spend an inordinate amount of money in that baby boutique."
"Is that so? Let me turn the car around and I'll meet you there. Give me three minutes," he said before hanging up on the call.
In reality, Isaac only needed two minutes. I saw him jogging up the street and got out of the car to meet him, dramatically throwing myself into his arms and wailing about my emotional morning. He was sympathetic and said all the right things but I knew underneath, he found it just as funny as my family had. Nevertheless, he took my hand and wrapped his arm around my shoulders as he guided me to the baby boutique.
The woman who greeted us was a familiar face. Her name is Cassidy and she was a year older than me. We never got along, mainly because we have two contrasting personalities, and Cassidy was the type of woman who would stab another woman in the back while ripping out the pages of the Sisterhood Bible. Just seeing the way she leered at Isaac was enough to make my blood boil.
"Charlotte Delaney! Look at you," Cassidy's shrill voice pierced my ears as soon as her eyes fell on me. She focused on my pregnant belly first but I caught sight of the way her attention also went to my left hand. "Oh, so you're not married."
"No," Isaac answered for me. He looked about as thrilled as I was regarding the question. "We're together because we're in love, not because a ring and a certificate force us to be together."
It was exactly the explanation that I'd given him many weeks ago when I dropped the bombshell that I didn't see the point in us getting married. At the time, Isaac had been taken aback but had agreed that if that was how I felt, he was more than happy to support my decision. Having a child together was more of a commitment anyhow, he'd rationalised. We were going to be tied together forever.
"Lottie, you know, now that I think about it, we're in the wrong store," Isaac suddenly said. He looked around with a dramatic sigh. "Yeah, it's the baby store across the road we need, not this one. Really sorry to have wasted your time, uh..." He squinted at the name tag Cassidy wore. "Cassie. Thanks."
Once again, I was guided by Isaac as we crossed the road and entered the quaint little shop that sold one of a kind baby outfits. They were hand made by the owner and their daughter, making anything we bought in this shop totally unique. Isaac was in his element as he picked out outfit after outfit. He was careful to only show me neutral rompers although I saw the way his hand moved towards a blue knitted jacket. I pretended not to have noticed.
"Hey, Lottie?" Isaac caught my attention as I rifled through a rail of cardigans. I stopped on a cute yellow duckie cardie and turned to see him leaning against a rail of pink dresses, a pensive look on his face. "How long after Nugget do you want to wait before we have Burger?"
I scoffed. "Burger?"
"Nugget, Burger... it's a theme," he said with a casual shrug. "So how long would you want to wait?"
"I don't know," I answer truthfully. I already knew that I wanted more than one child and that Isaac would be the only person to father my children, but other than that, I wasn't sure on the finer details. "How long do you think?"
"I'm going to be thirty-six in a few months," he tells me, although having seen his drivers license nad passport, I already knew when his birthday was. "I don't really want to have kids too late, you know. So, I was thinking, the sooner the better."
My eyes widened. "Not too soon, though, yeah? Like, Nugget is due in September and I am not going to end up pregnant by Christmas, am I?"
The truth was, I was keen to have my children close in age. I liked the fact that my sisters, Lucas and I all had gaps of two years between us. It meant that we had a great relationship and we were always more like friends than siblings, and that's what I wanted for my children.
"Not by Christmas," Isaac laughed. He walked towards me and wrapped his arms around my waist from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder as he kissed the skin under my ear. He knew I wouldn't be able to resist him now. He could ask me to rob a bank and I'd pull on my balaclava like it was the most normal thing in the world. "By Easter next year, though..."
I laugh. "Yeah, ok," I say, rolling my eyes. Changing the subject, I point towards a onesie that was hanging on the wall. A slogan on the front read, I get my attitude from all the women in my family. "If we have a girl, she is so getting that."
"Mhm," Isaac nods. "At least it's accurate. In the other shops, one slogan read, I get my looks from my mummy. We all know that our kids would get their looks from me."
This isn't the best update but I'm trying to keep the good stuff for August/September.
This story will continue until December and then 2018 will be all about Girl Friday, Martha and Sam's story. (Cover is subject to change)
Until then, we're sticking with Charlotte and Isaac. Oh, by the way, here is your invite!
Hope to see you there!
Until Wednesday, my peeps.
Sarah, xx