Life Inside a Snow Globe

My boyfriend, Jake, had found me on the Monday night before New Year's Eve in 1976. I'd left the club I'd been working at in his hometown without saying anything to him because our whole seven-month love affair was just pointless and heartbreaking. I'd been dancing at the strip club in Quebec City for a week before he figured out where I'd gone and during that time I'd made friends with the congenial Master of Ceremonies, Jean Luc, and his lover, Sol. I was the kid they never wanted.

Jean Luc spent hours listening to me cry over my lover, handing me kleenex like he owned stock in the company. He'd helped me put together a hilarious old lady show and was working on another show for me when Jake stumbled into the club and took my mind off my work, yet again.

Jake was very hot and the French strippers I was working with flirted shamelessly with him, even after I told them he'd fallen off a ladder in a terrible construction accident and crushed his- you know- those things down there. Anyway, during that evening my friend, Jean Luc outed my condition and Jake found out I was a month and a half pregnant, making his complicated life even more so. We had gone out to breakfast after the club closed to discuss our situation, not coming to any meaningful conclusion. However, I did blow chunks in the restaurant bathroom, which was charming.

When we got back to the hotel I was staying in, he helped me down from the truck and walked me to my door. After I got inside, he went back to the truck to retrieve his duffel bag.

Walking into the pink, frilly Barbie fun house he said, “Whoa. I’m not sure I can get undressed in here. My balls might get embarrassed and run off.”

“Oh?” I snarked, “can they still run after the accident?”

He dropped his packages on the floor and backed me up against the wall, going for a kiss. I had to stop him. “Ugh. No. I just threw up. Let me rinse my mouth out and brush my teeth.” I squirmed away from him and dashed into the bathroom, locking the door behind me.

I brushed my teeth furiously and jumped into the shower. I’d been dancing all night and felt gross. Somehow, he’d figured out how to pick the bathroom lock, and soon I had company. He lathered my back and reached around to soap up my breasts, which had gotten a bit tender. Then, he slid his hand down to my stomach, making small circles on my skin and driving me crazy. Kneeling down in front of me, water pouring off his black hair and down his face, he kissed my tummy, ignoring the lower region for the first time since we met almost seven months ago. He never missed an opportunity to visit Australia on my body. Tonight, it seemed, he wasn’t interested.

He pulled a towel off the rack, dried me off, and led me to my frilly, pink Barbie bed. I checked and his balls did indeed look uncomfortable to be seen there. Poor little guys. They’d been through a lot that night.

After I’d laid back on the bed, he spent a good long time just looking at me with a lopsided grin on his face. He gently cupped my breasts and kissed my belly, then he laid his head down next to my stomach and wrapped one arm around me. That’s how we fell asleep.

The next morning when I woke up alone, I panicked until I saw his duffle bag on the floor. I tested getting out of bed, to see if my stomach was going to make it to the bathroom. It was going to be a good day. I didn’t vomit yet.

I went to the bathroom and got scared when I saw my hair in the mirror though. One thing about curly hair is you have to take care of it right away when it’s wet or it looks like the backside of a rabid llama when it dries without adult supervision. I quickly brushed it out with a damp hairbrush and finger-curled it before Jake got back from God knew where. I also brushed my teeth again and put some makeup on so I wouldn’t scare him all the way back to Hamilton.

He returned bearing toast and tea for me and a coffee for himself, having eaten at the diner already. “You have to try to eat. The morning sickness will go away.” He promised.

“Morning? It’s more like everything I eat whenever I eat comes right back up. Morning, noon, night- it doesn’t matter.” I complained.

He shrugged off his jacket and sat down on the bed to pull off his boots. He settled onto the bed and pulled me onto his chest, nuzzling my curls and nibbling at my ears.

I was new to this condition and wasn’t absolutely sure what was safe and what was not. I asked him, “Is it okay to you know- have sex? I don’t want to do anything dangerous.”

He laughed at my naivety, “Yeah. Hey, we don’t have to use a condom now, eh?”

I rolled over and unbuttoned his shirt and peeled it off him. He unbuckled his belt and pulled his jeans off. I was relieved to find that the construction accident hadn’t done any permanent damage to his masculine appendages. Whew. Upon much closer inspection, it all appeared to be in working order, which was good because I was really horny.

I fell back asleep after we made love, and he woke me up at two in the afternoon to see if I was hungry yet. He was anxious to get out of the room and find lunch.

“I see you read my note.” He mentioned, seeing it opened on the vanity. “I meant every word of it.”

“Jake. You always mean what you say when you say it. It’s just hard for you to make it all happen the way you want it to. I get it. You’re in sort of an impossible position right now. But so am I. I need to be able to depend on you and trust what you say.”

“I know,” he said, smoothing down his mustache and watching his hand making circles on my stomach. “I get it. This is for real, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. I still haven’t told my agent yet. She’ll be pissed. She may stop booking me. I’m going to need a back-up plan.”

“Are you going to call your parents?” He asked.

“No way. This would kill them. Literally kill them. I’m supposed to be a good Catholic girl. Not- well, whatever I am now. Oh, God.” I groaned.

He looked up at me in surprise and said, “Whatever you are now? You are a beautiful woman who I love, and you have my baby growing inside of you. That's not a bad thing.”

I wanted to believe him. But in the back of my mind, I reminded myself that he was very good with words- not so good with actions. I was not going to encourage him.

“Come on, let’s get some lunch. I’m starving.” He said, pulling me up out of my warm blankets.

We went back to the diner where we had breakfast the night before and I ordered toast and soup.

Jake ordered a glass of milk for me, and I looked at him with a smirk,” You know, I can make my own now, right?”

He snorted coffee out of his nose laughing hysterically. Ew- gross. Snot, spit and coffee on me- I had to make a run for the bathroom. Fortunately, I remembered where it was from the previous night. Yep, the toilet was right where I left it the last time I vomited.

I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it yet, but I am a mess of obsessive/compulsive disorders and am also germ-phobic. Anything having to do with spit, snot, sweat, blood, earwax, other bodily secretions, insects, snakes, bats, handrails, elevators, doorknobs, public restrooms in general and restaurant silverware that was non-disposable could paralyze me. I may have missed a few.

Being a stripper compounded all those phobias because I was always exposed to sharing dressing rooms with other women who refused to wear rubber gloves or scrub down everything in their path with disinfectant. There were times when I was forced to share a communal rug for floor routines and that just about killed me. I always bring my own now. I was Inspector Monk in a G-String.

When I got back to the table, he asked if it was morning sickness again.

“Nope,” I replied, “just disgusted sick- all that snot and spit and coffee- ew.”

“Oh, man,” he murmured, “what are you going to do with dirty diapers and baby spit up?”

“Well, for one thing,” I promised, “I’m going to try not to think about it while I’m eating lunch. Thank you for putting it into my brain.”

“Whoops. Sorry.”

We ate in silence. He was probably just as worried about the situation as I was. Instead of juggling a lover with a pregnant wife he had two babies on the way. I expected nothing from him. He didn’t owe me anything. He wasn’t married to me. I would never have asked for help anyway. When faced with pregnancy or pregnancy scares during those days, I was always on my own- especially if I became inconvenient.

(When I finally met my husband forty years ago. That was the end of having to deal with pregnancies alone. It took me a long time and many false starts with men who couldn’t take responsibility before I met someone who would be there for me through thick and thin.)

After we ate, I wanted to go back to the room and sew my new green chiffon twirling cape. Jake was feeling cooped up, though, and wanted to explore. He asked the waitress how to get to Old City and she wrote down directions on a napkin for him.

“Come on,” he urged, “you have to get out of that room and get some fresh air. It’ll be good for you, eh.”

He followed the directions to Old City and found a place to park near the cobblestone roundabout at Place Royale. The entire city was decorated for Christmas, and I realized that I was going to have two days off from work to spend New Year’s with Jake.

“I just remembered,” I told him, “I have tomorrow and Thursday off for New Year’s. We can celebrate it together.”

There was nothing like Old City Quebec during Christmastime. Lighted trees, wreaths, and pine garlands decorated every shop, pub, and restaurant as we strolled down the narrow, winding streets lined with cobblestone and brick row buildings. The restaurants- oh, my. Dozens of them beckoned hungry tourists with delightful aromas. It felt like we had been transported magically to a quaint European village.

Charming as it was in the daytime, I couldn’t wait to come back at night on New Year’s Eve and wander around enjoying the lights and the party atmosphere. We stopped off at an old restaurant called Aux Anciens Canadiens for a late afternoon snack before I had to begin getting ready for evening shows.

“I can’t believe I’ve never been here before. All the time I’ve spent up North hunting and fishing and didn’t know this existed.” Jake shared in amazement.

“I’m so glad we can see this place together. I can’t wait to see everything lit up at night.”

He held my arm as we walked along the slippery stone walkways back to his truck. A gentle snow began to fall, turning the Old City into a scene inside a snow globe. An absolutely perfect day in an absolutely imperfect love affair.