Tuesday, June 7, 2016
Saturday, June 4, 2016
Anabelle Lee, mourning her inability to have a child of her own, suffered through two miscarriages, a heartbreaking late-term abortion, and a soul crushing divorce. As an embryologist, she has protected the potential life of many frozen specimens, and lived envious of the women choosing In Vitro fertilization as their form of reproduction.
After a bit of encouragement from her best friend, and counseling from the very perfect Dr. Ribbons, Anabelle takes steps to fulfill her desire to become a mother.
Problem is, the announcement brings more of a shock than a gift.
Belle stood, smoothed her shirt and tugged at the waistband of her pants, trying to gather her words before opening her mouth. Eventually, giving up. Crossing the room to the closet, she pulled out the Christmas gift bag. From it she placed a couple of the fertility magazines in front of Tyson and stood back to observe his reaction.
The look on his face transformed from burning curiosity into lip pursing illumination. “Oh. I have this one in my office.” Leaning forward, he tapped the cover of one magazine before shifting back to his previous position. Arms crossed over his body gave emphasis to the movement of his chest and the stretched material of his shirt. Tyson sucked in a deep breath before letting it out slowly and clearing his throat. His glance never left her face. “How soon do you plan on going through with the procedure?”
“As soon as possible. I would simply love to have a baby by Christmas.” Belle smiled softly, unaware of how wistful she looked.
“At this moment, you remind me of a child wishing on a star for a toy she covets. You know this isn’t a game, right? This baby you want would be a living being. Not something you can return when it doesn’t meet your expectations.”
Belle’s smile vanished.“What are you trying to say, Tyson?”
“Hold on, wait a minute...” Tyson stood. Hands held out in front of him as if he thought he had to protect himself from harm, a chuckle escaping. “Damp down the fire. I’m just observing your reaction and emotions. Counseling in this area is my thing, remember?”
“Yes, I remember.”
“Well this is no different than what I would ask any potential parent. Do you really want to be a parent? A single parent, even?”
“Yes. I want to be a parent.”
Noticing the tears forming in her eyes, Tyson moved closer, pulling Belle into his arms and close to his chest. “You know, you don’t have to use the lab method. I promise you, it would be much more fun trying the old fashioned way. I’m just saying,” He laughed and held her tighter when she struggled to pull out of his embrace. “You have me here. Happy and willing anytime. Anywhere.”
At 17, Ismet Honorable O’Neal couldn't stop Sunny from going through with an abortion, so he ran from the girl who killed his dream of the perfect life and white picket fence. Now he helps other men become the voice in their children's lives.
Can Ismet and Sunny overcome years of hurt and anger? Or will it take more than love to repair the broken fences?
Three of the five containers of infant formula slipped from his grasp, falling with the weight of bricks on the ends of his loafers. The pain to his toes was nothing compared with the unexpected sharpness stabbing his chest.
He froze, listening to her voice as he eavesdropped on her one-sided conversation.
“Belle, will you stop talking? All I asked was what size should I get? I didn’t ask for a commentary or a price list on the gifts I’ve already bought for my godchildren. Furthermore...”
Her voice slowly faded away, dragging Ismet’s composure with it. He stood, shaking like a leaf and peering between the columns of baby diapers and infant paraphernalia at the woman who had crushed his soul years previously.
Without conscious thought, Ismet found himself scurrying through the doors of the supermarket and into his car, the task of purchasing supplies for the childcare center completely forgotten. His main focus was to put as much distance to his memories and reality as possible. Which wasn’t far.
He pulled the car over as soon as he could find a safe spot and rested his forehead on the steering wheel. He hadn’t expected the sight of Sunny to impact him so hard. After all, he hadn’t seen her in ten years, but would know her anywhere.
She was more mature--at least her body was, but the voice was still the same. As was his reaction to her. Heart palpitations, joy, lust and retreat. Yes, same-o-same-o.
The last time he’d seen her, he’d run. Run from her, his home, and what had become the end of his life. That night was the death of his dreams. A night he’d done his best to keep buried. Seeing her unearthed all of that. He was shaken to his roots and his mind reflected the turmoil. Spilling its secrets...
“You really gonna let her make you do this? You gonna let her kill our baby?”
“I don’t have a choice. She’s my momma. I’ve only been sixteen two weeks and here I am pregnant with a baby. Met, what can I do with a baby? How can I finish school? Go to college? I can’t be a mom right now.”
“I thought you loved me. Wanted our baby.”
At the touch of her hands on his shoulder, he shook it off. The contact seeming to burn him with desire and freeze his heart at the same time. This was the person who, in one night, sent him soaring to the sky with the announcement she was pregnant, and then casually tossed him to the pits of hell with the plans for an abortion.
She sat quietly, gaze transfixed by the movements of her fingers in her lap, while he opened the door of the car and went to sit on its hood. With every step, he wanted to fall apart.
There was nothing he could do. Nothing or no one able to help him. Sunny was right, they couldn’t go against her mother’s demands. If only it were possible to make her carry the baby and then give it to me. Would she even contemplate the thought?
With a small turn of his head, he glanced in her direction. There she sat, stone-face in the car. He wondered if she truly cared. If the whispers of love she’d mouthed for years was simply the fantasy of a teenage girl deep in the throes of her first relationship. Did she even care for him with the same intensity he cared for her? From the corner of his eyes he watched Sunny staring, as if she were unable to move and join him.
The hurt was a physical tearing in his chest that radiated into his back. It wasn’t possible Sunny felt anywhere near as helpless and devastated as he was feeling. She had the upper hand. It was her body, her child--until it was dead. The finality took the last bit of strength from his body and he fell across the hood of the car, deep sobs tearing his heart apart.
The thud of the metal hitting metal roused him from his misery. A simple hug would’ve meant a lot. A word of comfort or remorse would’ve been a balm to his spirit. Instead, he watched her shoulder her purse. Without a glance in his direction, she strolled up the concrete path to her mother’s house. The taps of her heels on the sidewalk, the closing snap of the front door, marked an end to his wishful dreams--and echoed in his nightmares for years.
Ey Wade considers herself to be a caged-in frustrated author of thought provoking, mind bending books in several genres. She is the mother of three adult daughters who were previously home-schooled and the drooling ‘Lovey' to a little boy. Ey was born in Texas and reared as an Army brat. She had the constant need to speak, and writing and telling stories became her way of socializing.
Ey was inspired to write Ribbons and Belle by the controversy over abortion and the vitriol with which women who choose abortion are attacked. People tend to overlook the fact there may be medical reasons. Ismet’s Honor was born after a beta reader finished Ribbons & Belle and wished there was a story about Sunny. Ey decided to make it more about the father, what his wishes may have entailed, and how abortions also affect fathers-to-be.
For more information on Ey and her writing, you can visit the following:
Amazon Central Author Page: http://bit.ly/EyWade-Amz