Was it a jerk move? Yeah.
Did he get an earful back? Oh yeah…
“Hey man, Navy? Am I right?”
“You bet, served twenty and…”
“I could tell,” Lance interrupted, chuckling in the most arrogant fashion he could. He was looking to pick an argument after Stephanie’s rushed phone call, and this was perfect. “This isn’t a carrier – next time, try not to wait for a hook line to catch us. How about you use whatever skills you were supposed to have learned in flight school to slow us down. I could have thrown this thing on the ground with more finesse.”
“Sir… we need you to disembark the aircraft,” a flight attendant said, pushing at his shoulders.
“Why you…”
“So how many ‘birds’ did you put in the water when you took a swan dive off the flight deck?” Lance tossed over his shoulder, laughing, as he was exiting the plane – only to see the man wave him off and move out of sight.
Several rumbles behind him were severely disapproving, but he didn’t care. He had less than an hour to get this out of his system because he didn’t want to fight with Stephanie.
Digging in his pocket, he grabbed the fragile piece of paper that he kept folded in his wallet. That email had been printed out, examined, memorized and was his only key to finding her now that he was in Louisville. He had two nights to convince her to talk with him, to work with him regarding the baby and their marriage, and he needed to be at the top of his game. Monday morning, he was scheduled for duty and would need to be on the carrier, in his spot, at oh-eight-hundred.
Plugging the address in his cell phone as he walked, Lance headed toward the rental car location and prayed they had something that wasn’t reserved. He saw it would take thirty-three minutes to get to her apartment complex and then he needed to find her building, knock on her door, and come up with something constructive to say.
“Hello.”
Lance’s eyes shot up from his phone as he nearly bumped into Stephanie standing there before him, looking miserable. Her skin had a greenish tinge to it. Her eyes were red, swollen from crying - complete with circles underneath from exhaustion, and a monster of a pimple on her forehead. She was obviously having issues with nausea and hormones…and had never looked more beautiful to him.
“You look like crap,” his runaway mouth began and he winced.
Her lips flattened, nearly disappearing from her face combined with a look of resignation. She tossed up her hands and pivoted to walk away before his brain caught up with what he said.
He never expected her to actually show up to pick him up and was completely taken aback. It just slipped out, the same garbage he spewed toward his buddies, but she wasn’t his ‘buddy’, nor did she deserve to deal with his mouth.
“Stephanie… wait!” Lance called out, running after her immediately and grabbing her arm – only to have her whirl around on him, immediately on the attack.
“You think you can just show up and say whatever you want – and it’s okay? Yes, I look like crap. Welcome to my world – I feel like crap too. Is that what you want to see or hear? Your pregnant, knocked-up wife is sicker than a dog every night at seven o’clock, and guess what time it is, Husband?” she sneered mockingly – only to freeze a second later.
Stephanie was in a state now, simply beside herself. Her face got deathly greenish-white, and her lips bloodless as she immediately scanned the area nearby, slapping a hand over her mouth.
She’s gonna blow! Lance thought in a panic and yanked his backpack off his back, unzipping it and pulling out his bag from the gift shop where he’d bought a magazine. He didn’t wait, he held open the bag for her, there in the middle of the airport as she hung her head inside and let loose. She was sobbing, gagging, and coughing into the bag as people gave them a wide berth, and he spotted a trashcan in the distance.
“Stay here,” he uttered, touching her head… and jogged over to get it, yanking the lid off and grabbing the plastic insert, ignoring the smell. People were staring at him, gawking openly, as he walked toward the family restroom in order to give her a bit of privacy.
Putting his arm around her shoulders, he led her to the bathroom, ignoring everyone. The moment they got inside, he turned her toward the can in the center of the bathroom. Smoothing back her hair with one hand, he reached over to turn on the water with another, wildly pumping the towel rack. Yanking off a length of paper towel, he wet it under the water, and put it on the back of her neck.
“Every night…” she coughed, spitting into the garbage can, before throwing up again and groaning painfully. “Always like this at night.”
“Shhh… I’ve got you,” he whispered, standing there beside her and trying to make her comfortable. “Can you take something to help you?”
“If I take it, then the baby gets it too,” she panted, sounding exhausted as she moved from the trash can to the sink, cupping her hands beneath the water. “I’m scared to cause a problem.”
“Stay here, and I’ll get you a Sprite or a ginger ale,” he offered and saw her nod weakly. Stepping out into the airport near baggage claim, he saw a security officer standing there with another woman pointing at him. Boldly he walked over and nodded at the man. “My pregnant wife is sick in the bathroom – in case you are wondering. I’m going to grab her something to sip on at the kiosk, unless I’m in trouble, or you want that trash can back?”
Neither said a word, and Lance went on about his business. He picked up a can of Pringles since that was as close as he was going to get to crackers, a bag of peppermints, and a large 20-ounce bottle of 7-Up. Gathering everything together, he asked for a few extra plastic bags and headed back to the bathroom. Gently knocking, he heard Stephanie’s voice.
“Come in…”
“Are you feeling any better?”
“Yes,” she admitted quietly. “It’s like I have to do a purge, and then a little while later, I’m fine. I’ve tried different foods, different things, but it’s the same routine every night.”