After driving around for three weeks I finally talked him into settling down in Boston. We lived in an old hotel till Chris could find a job. He'd leave at eight and I had nothing to do but sit and wait. Luckily there was no kitchen so I wasn't expected to cook, but we didn't have our own bathroom which was very inconvenient when you have a baby constantly kicking on your bladder. I didn't know what to do with myself all day, I'd just sit and brush my hair while listening to the radio, and sometimes when I was brave I would walk four blocks to the library and read their selection of old magazines.
I can't do much without money, not what I am most good at, spending money. We can't spend any money because we have to give most of our money to the stupid doctor I don't need.
I was excited about living in the city until I looked in the mirror. I looked terrible, I looked like...I couldn't say it. My hair was limp and greasy, my face and body was bloated, and to my greatest horror my once beautiful flawless skin had broken out with acne. I can't have people see me like this and I especially don't want Chris to see my body like this.
I felt dead inside. My clothes stopped fitting and I had to start wearing shapeless maternity clothes from the thrift store, the kind of maternity clothes that sucked all the sexuality out of a woman and made her into a sexless old maid.
I stopped going out completely, I'd spend hours in front of the mirror either picking at my face or trying to get my hair to curl again like it used to. I felt like a hideous monster, this must be how The Elephant Man felt.
Chris being loving and supportive only made it worse, I felt like I had nothing to offer him and that he was going to leave me if I dare let him see my body now I could't even let him touch me, I didn't want him to touch me.
My stupid doctor tells me this massive weight gain is normal. NORMAL?! What does he know? This isn't normal it's grotesque! And he wants me to gain more weight. I would rather die than gain another pound. If I gain just one more pound I swear will slit my wrists with Chris's razor. I don't want this baby anymore, not when it's going to ruin my whole body, it's not worth it. I don't want to turn into my mother, I don't want to become an ugly old hag in black who nobody loves.
I'm only eighteen, I should be vibrant, thin, and beautiful, I shouldn't be this. I don't know what I want but I do know what I don't want, and I don't want this.
I only got bigger and bigger to my horror despite all that I did to keep myself at the same weight. I was fatter than that fat girl, Louise Peguese, I knew in school who I would make fun of on behind her back. The last thing I wanted to be in this world was a fat sad sack like her.
Chris finally got a sales job and we got to rent an apartment, a duplex, but at least we had our own bathroom we didn't have to share with anyone.
But his sales job meant he was away from me longer and I was to be left alone for days with nothing to do. I felt like I was being punished.
I finally made a friend, a fellow pregnant wife left at home, my neighbor Rosalind. We had nothing in common but she was less attractive than me and it made me feel slightly better about myself. Her husband was a sailor off fighting that damn war we had to ration for.
I was nothing like her, she was born poor and was a bit trashy where I am of wealth and fine breeding, but I would never tell her that to her face. We would spend all day together drinking and talking about our lost youth and boredom.
There would be no way I'd survive if it weren't for black market gin. Chris never knew, he doesn't drink at all because his stepdad was a drunk. He doesn't understand that drinking socially does not make someone a lush, it just makes that person fun and adventurous.
I would kill to be able to go to parties again and be the belle every girl envies and every guy couldn't resist.
Being fat and with child was a living hell I wanted out of. I felt like I was trapped, being suffocated in complete isolation. My new life as Christopher's wife wasn't supposed to be like this!
Just when I tried to end it all with a coat hanger, my water broke. Luckily Rosalind was there to call an abulence to take me to the hospital. There, they put an oxygen mask over my face and told me to count to ten and suddenly all the pain was gone as I drifted off to a heavenly place where I could float away from everything and everyone.
When I woke up that crisp November morning, I was greeted by Christopher holding my beautiful, perfect, blue eyed baby boy. I now had two Christophers to love me.
I stopped talking to Rosalind, I couldn't have my beloved son subjected to her poverty, she was a bad influence. I lost all the weight and my hair and complexion returned to its natural vibrant state thank to Christopher getting a raise and now having money to pamper myself like I used to. I dressed my Chris like the little prince he was. I adored him to no end, except when he was messy and fussy, but he was like me and just needed a little gin on his gums to calm down.
Rosalind and her baby moved out after her husband was killed and they got evited. She should have been better with money and maybe she wouldn't have to move back in with her mother.
Our new neighbor was a godsend, an old widow named Marceline who loved babies and was thrilled to watch Chris for me anytime and was more than happy to change his diapers and feed and bath him for me when I was out at the movies or dancing at a canteen or cabana. Life was great.
I no longer missed Christopher when he was away traveling, in fact, I enjoyed his absence and dreaded his return where I'd have to lie and pretend I was a devoted hands on mother who did nothing but tend to baby Chris like a selfless madonna.
On the nights Christopher was home I would forcibly put Chris to sleep with a little cloth dipped in Robotussin for him to suck on and I would spike Christopher's food with a pick me up to get him energetic.
That way I could have Christopher all to myself and alert to engage in my every sexual fantasy all night long. Christopher thought we were trying to have another baby but I had mused up the courage to get a diaphram so I wouldn't have to be burdened with another baby.
Sex was amazing now that we were older and more experienced. Before we had to be quick and quiet, sneaking around in a hurry, now we were married with a place of our own, a well behaved baby, all the time to indulge in ourselves and the freedom to be as loud and wild as rutting animals in heat. I would teach him all the things I learned reading smut and he was a great student and fast learner.
I can't explain how I felt wearing the risqué lingerie my father would have a heart attack over. It was this sort of power I relished in, this ability to make grown men weak beneath me and trembling like a fawn. I loved feeling his muscles clench before he lost control and gave in to me.
I was not a blushing little girl who just laid on her back and waited to be took, I was a woman with wanton desires, I take what I want when I want and to hell with being a godly woman of chaste who denies herself pleasure. I am not my mother, I will not be some frigid cold woman ashamed of her own sexuality, forever sexually frustrated and miserable with herself.
There is no greater joy than to be twenty-one, young and beautiful, living in a bustling big city full of dreams, with a world of endless possibilities before her and a knock out figure to entice with. It seemed like it would last forever and that nothing stood in my way to pure happiness.
Then Cathy came, like the dark cloud that she was, to steal all my sunshine away...