Double Lines
Seven - Christmas

The week before Christmas, Melina’s bakery was busy and full of customers. She closed later than usual to accommodate the extra orders, and everyone, including myself, was busy working overtime.

The line to the counter is six groups long, and I busily take orders and bring out food as quickly as possible.

“Hi,” I smile at the couple next in line at the counter. I recognised them both immediately.

“Hello! It’s Mikaela, isn’t it?” Sofia asks with a smile. It’s been a month and a half since you saw me last, idiot, I think as I try hard to keep my face straight.

“Yes. Hi Sofia, Greg. How have you both been?”

“Good. I didn’t know you worked here,” Sofia states smugly.

“Melina owns the company, so I work here,” I reply.

“I love the desserts you sell here!” Greg gushes, making Sofia give him a look.

“Thank you. I will let the baker know,” I reply.

“Oh, doesn’t Melina bake the food then?” Sofia asks.

“She does, but the shop is very busy, so she has more than one person out back baking,” I explain. Sofia nods in understanding.

“How can I help you both today?” I ask, trying to change the conversation and get rid of them.

“We have an order for Tenhagen,” Sofia replies, another smile on her face.

“Let me get that for you,” I reply. I head out to the back of the shop and look for the tray boxes with the name Tenhagen labelled on them.

“Here you go,” I say, sliding the boxes on the counter.

“Thank you, Mikaela. It was so good to see you again. We should catch up when our babies are born,” Sofia says.

“I would like that,” I reply. Sofia nods and threads her arm into Greg’s.

“Tootles,” she says, waving her fingers at me.

“Bye,” I reply. Thankfully, as soon as she and Greg walk away, another couple takes their place and makes an order.

By the end of the day, I am exhausted. My ankles are swollen and sore because I’ve been standing all day. Melina googles my symptoms and makes me lay on the couch and raise my ankles above my heart to keep my circulation flowing.

“You’re not coming in tomorrow,” Melina tells me as she props my ankles on the couch arms.

“But you’re so busy, you need me,” I complain.

“You’ve been a great help. But I need you at home resting more than I need you in hospital with pains in your legs and your ankles as big as plates,” Melina rebuts. I groan and open my mouth to respond, but Melina shakes her head.

“I have lost twenty-two years of your life; let me look after you, please,” Melina scolds.

“Yes, mum,” I reply. Then I gasped when I realised what I’d called her.

“I am so sorry!”

Melina laughs softly.

“It’s okay; I’m your mum’s identical twin. I was expecting you to call me mum much sooner, honestly,” she admits.

“I could be your daughter,” I comment. Melina taps my legs affectionately.

“You could,” she smiles sadly, “well, I’m going to make us dinner.”

I nod as I watch Melina walk to the kitchen area of the room. I feel bad for calling her mum, almost as if I said the wrong thing. I wonder if she wanted children of her own because she’s never mentioned having children to me. But sometimes I catch her, like when she modelled folding the cloth nappies and demonstrated how to swaddle a baby doll. I want to ask her if she had a child and what happened to him or her, but I coward out every time I’m about to ask.

Melina has me on house arrest for the rest of the week. She gets Miguel, Amelia or Tamsin to come in and check on me when she can’t. They make sure I’m off my feet and resting. I feel like yelling at them that I am pregnant, not an invalid, and not due until another two months. But when I try to protest, it all falls on deaf ears.

Melina closes her shop two days before Christmas. Miguel celebrates his Christmas at midnight on Christmas Eve, so he’s looking forward to a long sleep-in beforehand. I wake up to a very different Christmas morning than to one I’m used to.

“I’m doing this for you, little one,” I say, rubbing my stomach. David spent the night last night, and we will celebrate Christmas morning together. After lunch, David and Melina will celebrate with his family, and I’ll have the apartment myself. They also asked me if I wanted to come, but I declined. I had to call Mum and Dad anyway, and I felt it best to do it while Melina wasn’t here.

I visit the bathroom to release my bladder and then dress for the day. Putting my hair in a messy bun, I walk downstairs to the sweet smell of cinnamon.

“Good morning,” I call out happily as I take the final step into the living area.

“Merry Christmas!” David and Melina greet.

“Merry Christmas,” I reply, hugging each of them.

“What’s for breakfast?” I then ask, my mouth salivating from the smells entering my nose.

“French toast, scrambled eggs, bacon, fried tomatoes and toast,” David says happily.

“No muffins?” I tease, looking at Melina.

“No, David cooked. I don’t trust him with my bakeware,” Melina says, granting her a nudge from David.

Melina passes me the scrambled eggs and bacon, and I set them on the table. I bring out the napkins as David brings in the cutlery and plates, and Melina the French toast.

“This smells so good,” I say, peering across the table. The smell is so good that my stomach hurts just craving the food. The only sound that can be heard for the next few minutes is the clinking of our cutlery on plates as we eat.

I slide more bacon on my plate, making David chuckle.

“Who would like a coffee?” David asks.

“Yes, please,” Melina replies.

“Me too,” I grin. David raises an eyebrow at me, and I fall backwards into my seat.

“Fine. Hot chocolate, please?” I ask.

The steaming wand for the milk is loud as I wait patiently for my hot chocolate.

“Are you looking forward to meeting David’s family?” I ask Melina as we wait.

“Yes… although I’m a bit nervous, to be honest. David’s younger brother passed away a few years back, so it will be just him, me, his nephew and his sister-in-law’s sister. I haven’t met them, so I hope they like me,” she admits.

“They will love you. I love you and think you’re great,” I say.

“I love you too, Mikaela,” Melina beams, squeezing my hand.

“They will love you,” David says, returning to the table with my hot chocolate and Melina’s coffee.

“Thank you,” Melina smiles.

“So…” David begins, looking at me.

“I’m not religious or anything, but have you thought about who would be your child’s godfather?” David asks. I chuckle.

“Why? Who were you thinking?” I tease.

“Well, um, I know this really nice guy; he’s really cool, actually… and he would love to help you with your child if you need it…” David begins.

“Really? Do you know this person as well, Melina?”

“No… I’m not sure who he’s talking about…” Melina agrees. I look at David’s face; he’s blushing, and I laugh.

“David, would you like to be my baby’s godfather?” I ask.

“Yes!” David shouts, covering his mouth in surprise.

“I would be…”

“Are you sure you’ve made the right choice there?” Melina teases, cutting David off. I grin at Melina before we both crack up, laughing at David’s expense.

“Yes, yes. David, sorry. I would love you to be my baby’s godfather if you would like to be her godmother, Melina?”

“Now I think you’re stretching it a bit far...” David says, eyeing Melina, who is smiling at me.

“David!” she replies, slapping him on the arm. It is his turn to laugh.

“You do realise that if I’m the godmother, and you’re the godfather, you’ll be stuck around me for the rest of Kaela’s baby’s life?” Melina asks.

“I don’t think I’d mind that,” David replies.

“Neither would I,” Melina grins. I watch as David leans over and kisses Melina on the lips.

“Gross,” I say under my breath as I quickly concentrate on eating.

After hugging David and Melina goodbye, I walked over to the fridge, where Mel left a box of treats for me. I take it out and put it on the bench to see what Melina has left me.

“Yes!” I grin when I see some savoury muffins. I placed two on a plate and put them in the microwave to heat. While waiting, I pour myself an orange juice.

Taking my lunch to the living area, I turn on the television and watch Bad Moms Christmas on Netflix. I sit through the movie, laughing myself silly. When the film finishes, I switch the TV off and return my dishes to the dishwasher. Sighing, I grab my mobile and call my family.

The conversation was long, with Mum going over the morning’s events in agonising detail. I learnt that Noah introduced them to Andrea, who everyone adored, even though my parents were slightly upset about it. Today helped them understand why I didn’t want to be there when they met her. According to Nichola, they were all lovey-dovey towards each other. Briana and Moses, Noah’s parents, gushed over how helpful Andrea was, even to the extent of making a toast about it before lunch.

This made me feel a little sick in the stomach. Knowing about Noah and his family and their reaction to his new relationship made me feel awful. And angry. And bitter. I wondered if they knew why Noah and I broke apart and how he got together with Andrea. How would they feel then? Would they still love her?

And I felt awful about not being there, denying my family from knowing about my pregnancy. When I finally ended my call, I let the floodgates open. The closer I get to my due date, the more hormonal I feel.

//\\///\\\//\\

I spent New Year’s Eve at home alone. Melina and David asked me to attend a function with them, but I felt like a bloated whale at the moment and didn’t want to go. Why does being pregnant make you extra hungry and put on extra weight? I hate myself right now. Usually, on New Year’s Eve, I’m at home with my friends, celebrating in a pub or club, or with my family, celebrating with Noah’s family having a barbecue.

My birthday is the next milestone I miss with my family. Because I’m pregnant. Not that I regret being pregnant; I love the baby growing inside of me. And the memory of how my baby was made makes me smile. But having my parents see me pregnant, knowing it is not Noah’s, is one I can’t face yet.

I’ve been talking to Nichola on the phone, whom I miss terribly, and we’ve been catching up on every topic, excluding the fact that I’m pregnant. From what she tells me, my family still have no idea how Noah and I broke up. Noah had told our families that we had a fight, that I had moved into the dorms, and that he was trying to get in touch with me again but couldn’t replace me. I thought that was interesting. Then Nichola reveals that on New Year’s, Noah had gotten drunk and returned home to his parent’s house, yelling about how much he loved me and wanted me back. Brianna, his mother, had come over to my house the next day all excited about that gossip. It turns out she likes Andrea but sees her as a bit shallow.

I asked Nichola if he had ever mentioned how we broke up, and Nichola said he hadn’t. I’m grateful for that. I’m embarrassed by the whole thing, the fact that I wasn’t good enough and that he went elsewhere to fulfil his needs.

My pregnant belly continued to grow, and I began getting the dreaded stretch marks at thirty-five weeks. But on a positive note, I received my end-of-year results, and I passed! Yay! I got mostly B’s and a few A’s, and when I shared my results with Melina and David, they took me out to dinner to celebrate.

I worked part-time at Melina’s shop during the holidays but didn’t work as much as I did before Christmas. David convinced me to pick up one class for the new semester, saying that it would keep my mind busy and mean I would have less to do when I return to university after my baby is born. Melina agreed, which is why I am now completing a class in Social Studies. This is my final class on this topic, and I’m thankful to David for suggesting it.

So, during my final three months of pregnancy, my days have revolved around waking up in the mornings, going for long walks around the area, working in the café in the afternoons from one to six, and then studying at night.

“It’s quiet, Kaela,” Melina says one Thursday, looking at me, “why don’t you go home and rest a bit?” she asks.

“Are you sure?” I ask.

“Yes. Tamsin and I will close up, and then I’ll come up and make us dinner,” she tells me.

“Okay,” I nod. Truthfully, I’ve been feeling more fatigued lately, and I think it’s becoming noticeable.

I walk into the back kitchen and wash my hands in the sink.

“You going home?” Amelia asks, smiling. I nod.

“Yeah, we’re quiet,” I tell her.

“Okay, see you tomorrow,” she tells me, putting away the dishes she had just washed.

“Yup,” I reply, walking over to our lockers in the small staffroom to get my bag.

“Arrgh,” I groan, clutching my stomach as I walk toward the kitchen.

“Are you okay?” Amelia asks, walking up to me.

“Yeah. Just Braxton hicks, I think.” I reply, grimacing when another wave of pain hits me.

“Why don’t you sit down for a bit,” Amelia instructs, taking me by my shoulder and leading me back into the small staff room.

“Arrgh shit,” I cry again, stopping at the next wave. Suddenly, I feel warmth between my legs and look down.

“Um, I think your water broke,” Amelia says, holding onto me. I give her a worried look when another wave of pain goes through me, making me scream.

“Melina!” Amelia yells.

- edited