Chapter 11: November - "Nightmares Are Made of This"

Never quite even-handed or necessarily fair, life settles on the precipice of endless balances: wealth and poverty, ambition and apathy, love and hate, darkness and light ... dreams and nightmares. Often it seems as if there is an excess of the bad and the good will never come, or not enough of the good, and too soon dispersed. Living in the space between, we try and hold on, to avoid giving up living a dream, just to face hard realities.

Jahn had found his aerie, and was trying to keep a firm grip, but his dreams of late were inundated with nightmares.

Jen's newly announced pregnancy was not a nightmare. Oh, he'd stood dumbfounded as Fiona had fed him the news, and there was an uncomfortable silence as he digested it, but ... the news wasn't bad. It simply was what it was, though there didn't seem to be a right way to express the confusing mix of emotions welling up within him. Worse still, was the look on Jen's face.

Jennifer Reed was someone others would call cute, even if Jahn thought her beautiful. A snub nose, lively blue eyes that sparkled with warmth and pleasure, utterly kissable pink lips and long, naturally blonde hair that trended towards platinum gave her a wholesome look that had at first, and despite her age, made him think of her as someone's kid sister. But now, with that expression on her face ... Jen looked miserable and scared. He'd seen a shadow of something similar on her friend Amy once, and it had impressed on him as a kind of terror. Was she afraid of him, what he might think?

Inwardly, Jahn cursed himself. They'd talked about marriage and many of the important things that went with it, but somehow children had never come up anywhere but in conversations that had taken place almost a year past. His sexy new girlfriend Jenny had brightly reflected that she might like to have kids someday, and his sophisticated and worldly new girlfriend Fiona had thought that she might like to have children after she'd climbed as far as she thought she could at V&P, but the musing had been abstracted, well before he'd popped the question to the pair of them.

The trio wasn't even married yet. Where did they go from here?

He was taking too long to work this out in his head, and Jen was visibly deteriorating. Wanting nothing more than to hold her in that moment, he stood and circled the end table to take her in his arms. Fiona stepped back, watching with that cool and appraising gaze. It's not just Jen waiting for a response, he realized, as the blonde began to shake in his arms.

"Hey, it's okay, it's okay, I'm here," trying to soothe her, and feeling desperately clumsy about the attempt. Not a trifling argument this, something that could be gotten over with apologies all around and makeup sex.

"I'm s-sorry, s-so sorry," she sobbed into his shoulder. "I m-m-must have f'gotten to t-take them some, ah, some, ah sometime." The pills, right. Maybe it had been in the excitement over Florida, going or coming, or the preparation for the camping trip. Heaven knew that he and Jen rutted like bunnies; it was a testament to the quality of the stuff she'd been taking that they hadn't had a ... accident before now. Grimacing inside at the poor choice of word, he thought, is that what this is to me? An accident?

Occasionally his fantasies had run in the direction of having children with the two sisters, perhaps a boy to follow in his footsteps or a girl to dote on, but those had always seemed like conversational abstracts, something for the far future. Simple fact was, like it or not, he was now a father. Jen was the mother of his child.

Decision time. Be a rock. It's what Dad always told me, what Roger always showed by example, he thought. Jahn had asked them to marry him, and for better or worse, a child was going to be a part of that. Getting through this might be a challenge, but it was not insurmountable. Be. A. Rock.

"Jen," he said, as calmly as he was able, pulling her tightly to him. "I am here for you. Did you think I wouldn't be? That I would hate you, change my mind about marrying you?"

"N-n-no." she said, tears still flowing, soaking the front of his shirt.

"So you're pregnant, and I'm still here. You are the mother of ... my child. Is that something you want, or do we ... need to discuss other options?" It surprised him how much that possibility suddenly hurt, though he'd only squared off on the decision moments before.

Jen was silent for long moments, perhaps trying to understand what he was talking about, or simply composing herself. "N-no. I d-did, do want to have children with you, b-but it's so soon, and, and, b-but-"

"But... ?" he prompted, gently.

"I w-want you to still want me!" The sex, it always seemed to come back to that with Jen. Jahn knew it was her preferred way of expressing her feelings for him, making her feel wanted and showing that she wanted in him in return. But she thought he wouldn't want her anymore? That shocked him, and hurt a little too. Did she think him that shallow?

"I don't understand..." he said, hesitantly, still holding her close. "Why wouldn't I want you anymore?"

"B-because I'll b-be ugly and fat and-" the rest was incoherent, but he got the gist.

"Jen, it's just nine months. I'll spend every day of that time showing you just how much I still want you if you need me to." Immediately upon saying that, Fiona caught his eye, still watching in silence, and he wished he'd phrased the words differently. Perhaps she saw the stricken expression on his face and understood implicitly, because she simply gave him a serene smile and waved it off. Roger had been Jahn's rock; Fiona was Jen's. But damn, he wanted to be that for both of the sisters. His fiancées, his future.

The words Jahn spoke to her after that seemed to fade into rambling and become a haze of comfort and love, as much as he could give, as much as she could take. More important than anything was her understanding that he would be there for her for the rest of their lives. Jen had her cry, but she understood, and when she was done the three of them – Jennifer Reed, Jahn Halvers, and Fiona Reed, sat down for the first time as a family, and discussed their future together.

That old song is one that has stalked Jahn's thoughts throughout his relationship with Jen and Fiona, but the haunting has been a happy one, a soothing and reassuring beat that popped into his head every time he remembered just how lucky he was. It is, or was supposed to be, a happy, pleasant tune whatever the lyrics.

But when he slept that night, that song was the heart of his nightmares.

... use you, to abuse you...

Three women stand before him, ghosts of exes past. One of a height to match him, clad in latex, strawberry blonde hair tied back into a severe bun. Two women, much shorter than she, kneel next to her, submissive in demeanor, the pale blonde pleasuring her with lavish kisses as if she were a lost love newly found, the brown-skinned brunette gazing up at her with adoring eyes. "You were never worthy," the woman spat, words rich with scorn and derision, pointing a riding crop at him. "Not even of being a slave."

... be abused, be used by you...

He is as tall as he ever was, and with more body weight, but the mass is his body gone to seed. Staring contemptuously at the two small women in front of him, he lashes out, conferring slaps as if they were gifts, demanding obedience as if it were something owed. There is love for him in the sisters, but it is something twisted and wrong, shown through eyes as flat and lifeless as blue paint, eyes as dull and lusterless as brown wood. What is he doing to them, what has he become? Is this what he always was?