by Kaylee, Katy
“You can’t get a new implant, Gwen. You’re pregnant.” Groaning loudly, I dropped my head into my hands as a headache sprung behind my eyes. Ryan had been gone for two weeks, and it was almost February; we’d been having sex since December, and my birth control was due to be changed in early January.
But, my dumb self-decided not to go to Planned Parenthood, thinking it’d still be viable…
“Shit. That must be- it’s only my first missed period… I should’ve just gone to PP…” I couldn’t have been farther along than three weeks, and I rubbed my palms down my face to throw myself back on the exam table. “Damnit!”
“… At least you’re not shocked or in denial. Honestly, most women aren’t nearly as well-prepared mentally.” Peeking out from between my fingers, I sat up to heave a huff and shake my head. “I’ll prescribe you pre-natals when we’re done, but I need to get the old implant out and do an ultrasound to make sure you’re not ectopic.”
“Wait- I thought it stopped working after 3 years?” Seating herself on the little, spiny stool as I posed my question, my doctor only shrugged with a slight shake of her head. My heart dropped like a stone, and she leaned back slightly to stare my dead in the face.
“They say to take it out after 3 years, but a study showed it’s effective for longer. More than likely, it failed, although I would consider age a factor but not the reason. Like all birth control, the implants fail sometimes- no contraception is 100%, and there’s always an unlucky woman. Unfortunately, that’s you, this time, Gwen.” Pursing my lips tightly, I flexed my hands against my gown as she spoke, casual but still careful of the fact that this was, in essence, a mistake. “Were you planning on doing anything rambunctious in the recent future? Are you still working yourself into the ground?”
“You remember that?” Surprise cracked my voice, and she smiled before I heaved a massive sigh. “Whatever. I was going to reopen a restaurant here- I already have the place. I’m supposed to start reconstruction in a week.”
“Okay. Well, I’m going to give you some rules to follow, Gwen- I’m like Santa. I know when you aren’t being good.” Standing up as a nervous laugh escaped me, she grabbed some gloves from the box and a scalpel from a drawer. Laying back down, I held my arm above my head- like I had three times before- and she unwrapped the sterile, sharp tool before leaning over me. “Rule number one- the most important one- is that you sleep. Sleep for at least 8 hours, and only three hours of physical activity, because I know you’re going to be stressed out about every single little thing, right, Gwen.”
“Right.” Giving in without a fight, I breathed deeply as she nodded before turning her attention to my arm, and she didn’t administer any sort of numbing agent. Wincing at the slight bite, I pushed back the pain- which was easy, because I’d gotten this done several times, and the scar tissue had built up. “I’ll try not to stress out too much, too, I guess.”
“Good. Rule number two- if you start craving McDonalds or something, just go get it. I remember you hate fast food, but if you need it, you need it. Salt is exceptionally important to your body.” Humming in acknowledgement, I closed my eyes even though I knew my brain wasn’t going to work until after I left. It’s shutdown was the only reason I wasn’t a blubbering mess, but whatever the doctor said was important. “Thirdly, tell your parents, okay, Gwen? I’m divorced, as you know, and I know it’ll be hard, but you can’t do everything by yourself. They’ll get over whatever initial reaction they have- although, I can’t say the same for the rest of your family, at the very least, your parents will be thrilled after a little time.”
“I was going to go right there and burst into tears- thanks for reaffirming that.” The seriousness in my tone made my joke fall flat, and I scrunched up my face at the uncomfortable feeling of a finger under my flabby bicep. “So, bad question, I know- do you believe a younger guy when he calls you beautiful?”
“Always…” Mumbling softly, the doctor sat back with my implant in her palm, and she stood up to pull off her gloves and toss them in the bio-waste bin. “Regardless of what he wants, at least he wants me. Sad, I know- but sometimes, all it takes is someone being shallow to make you realize things about yourself. Not everything has to be deep or forever, and you don’t need to be in love for someone to call you beautiful, Gwen. Personally, I think that any compliment is still a compliment, no matter what’s underneath.”
“Yeah… the guy I’ve been seeing- he acts like having sex with me is, like, nirvana. I don’t get it. I don’t get how he could think that when there’s skinnier, more beautiful, not divorced women out there.”
“Maybe that’s what he finds attractive about you, Gwen.” Arching my brows as my doctor sat at the computer, facing away from me, I licked the roof of my mouth heavily at her flippancy. “Does he know you’re pregnant?”
“No.” Answering immediately, I couldn’t help the rush of shame that welled inside me before I beat it down viciously. There was nothing to be ashamed of; I might not be in the best shape right now- in any aspect of the phrase- but I didn’t get pregnant on purpose. “Ah- he had to go across the country for work, so… I haven’t told him, yet. I don’t want to stress him out. I also… I’m not sure what he’ll do. I honestly don’t know which I’m less okay with- him wanting all of this, or him skipping out.”
“I’ve seen my fair share of both, but in my experience, the guy staying in situations like this is usually harder. It can be more rewarding, of course, but there’s a lot more to balance than just holding a job and being a mother- which is already extraordinarily difficult on its own. I’m not saying it’s not. Sometimes, women just like not having to answer to someone, or make their own decisions with no one to explain it to.”
“Is it okay if I reschedule for the ultrasound and stuff- I really feel like I should be freaking out, but… I’m not.” The doctor shook her head, and I gnawed on my inner cheek as I ran my hand through my hair. “Do I have to look? Should I look? I mean- I won’t get an abortion. I can’t. But-“
“Gwen.” Whirling around on her stool, she shot me a reassuring smile that eased some of the roiling in my stomach. “You don’t have to look, and I am not going to make you. Right now, judging by your time line, your baby is only about 2-and-a-half weeks old- it’s not even visible to the machines. It’s just a tiny, microscopic ball of cells. There’s nothing to see. I’m only looking to make sure it’s where it’s supposed to be so you’re not in danger.”
“O- oh…” Slumping with relief, I nodded more to myself than her, and she turned back to the computer as my mind raced. “That makes me feel a little better.”
“Are you okay with being pregnant unexpectedly?” The direct question shocked me, and I stiffened as the fine hairs on my face stood up. That’s a good question… why am I not a mess? I should be a mess… right?
“I don’t know… I don’t know what I’m feeling. I feel stupid- but you said the implant most likely failed, which isn’t my fault, and there was no way of knowing if it did. I feel… I feel like it’s- not- real… sort of. But- I mean, I don’t feel like my life is going to go down the drain. I can still open my restaurant, even if it means doing a little delegating… which I kind of hate, but it’s one of your rules- not to stress out, and to sleep, and limit my physical activity. Maybe, I could hire someone to be, like, an assistant or something…” The more I talked to myself, the more plausible the idea seemed even though it left a sour taste on my tongue. “I really wanted this to be mine, though.”
“Just because you invite other people to help you doesn’t mean you should listen to their opinions. You need to learn that, right- once you become a mother, everyone is going to criticize you for every single thing, but that doesn’t mean they’re right. Even your parents- you can’t let other people take over your life again, Gwen.”
Gwen
Shoving my hand down my shirt, I groaned in relief as I scratched the underside of my breast, and I flopped my head back leisurely. My mind worked slowly
, savoring this moment of peace to recount all that I’d accomplished.
And pregnant- to boot!
“I’m so ahead of everything, I was able to take this day off… I’m so happy with myself.” Giggling in self-triumph, I pulled my shirt up under my breasts to rub my belly, and something little and precious wiggled deep below my skin. “Yeah… we deserve this. You’ve been so good- I haven’t had any puking episodes at all. Let’s watch some tv…”
Snatching the remote, I glanced around my entertainment room- aka the basement- and smiled broadly. My dad had been beyond helpful in turning this room into something more than a dank, dark place. Each corner was painted a different color; purple walls for yoga- green for my bean bag-slash-tablet setup- dark orange as a backdrop for the mounted television. The entire thing was carpeted, and a satisfied sigh burst from my throat.
The tv flickered to life, and I flipped through the channels absently as my mind wandered farther. True to my OBGYN’s word, my parents had been tickled pink at the news that I was pregnant, and they were excited to be grandparents. Thomas was horrified, but he didn’t like children, anyway. Derek and Sophia were indifferent, but I didn’t expect anything more considering they both lived in New York City. Twins shall be twins.
Thankfully, I wasn’t having twins. I didn’t even know what gender my baby was, but I wanted to wait until Ryan got back. Speaking of Ryan…
He was supposed to be on a talk show this morning, and he’d texted me to make sure I remembered to watch it live. Smiling as I glanced at my cell phone out of the corner of my eye, I rubbed my belly even as my toes flexed with the lingering sense of betrayal. I still hadn’t told him that I was pregnant, and that nibbling fear in my gut inched a little deeper.
The fact of the matter was that I didn’t really know how Ryan would react. I didn’t really know him beyond the obvious, and that was terrifying. I wouldn’t blame him for running away, but I also acknowledged at this point that it’d be hard without him.
Not because I needed him for our baby, but because… I wanted him around for me.
“-ur first guest today is the one- the only- Ryan Shaw! Give a hand, people!” Wild shrieks pulled me from my thoughts, and I turned the volume up as I furled my stretched limbs. Jostling into an upright position was enough to wind me, and I reached to grab my water bottle from the coffee table.
My first glimpse of Ryan tugged at the corners of my lips, and I leaned forward to peer through squinted eyes at his image. His smile strained, I though, and he didn’t have that particular pep in his step. My heart sank, wondering how he was feeling being away for so long from his friends and family… and me, hopefully.
“Hey- hi. Thanks for having me, Kevin. Sarah.” Setting my water bottle down carefully, my frown fully formed at how tired Ryan sounded as he sat at the desk with the hosts. He barely smiled, and it faded fast- it didn’t even reveal his dimples. Isn’t he supposed to be a great, up and coming actor?
“Thanks for being here, Ryan. You just finished filming for Selfless & Reckless- how’d it go?” I’d never watched this particular talk show before, but I was totally absorbed in Ryan as he clasped his hands on top of the curved desk. His expression didn’t change, and I pursed my lips under tightly knit brows.
“It was smooth. I’m relieved to be done, though. Sets can be crazy places, and spending every day, all day, with the same people for four months… I’m pretty ready to sleep in my own bed.” My stomach dropped at his little, humorless chuckle, and he shrugged before the camera zoomed in on the female host’s face.
“The things you give up to do what you love… what makes it not worth it anymore? I know you’ve been pretty active in movies and soap operas- and your female fans certainly appreciate that dedication- but do you ever feel like you just want to walk off set sometimes?”
“I know that I couldn’t handle living in a trailer- no matter how nice it is. I need my own bed, too, Ryan- I feel that deep in my soul, man.” Reaching across the table, the male host gave Ryan a fist bump, but Ryan only chuckled again.
“Yeah- sometimes it’s overwhelming. I miss home.” The sound waves hit me right in the chest, knocking the air from my lungs, and Ryan looked right at the camera. My heart broke for him, and I reached out even though I couldn’t touch him. “But- now that filming is over, I’ll be heading back in a couple of hours. Hopefully, it goes by fast.”
“Is there anyone you’re heading back to?” My brows shot up at the woman’s question, and I sucked in a sharp breath when Ryan nodded instantly. His smile lit up his eyes- like lightning- and his dimples dug deep into his cheeks as a powerful ‘ooh’ came from the audience.
“Yeah- I mean- we weren’t dating before I left, but… hopefully we can when I get back. I won’t say anything about her other than she’s an amazing cook.” Slumping a little, Ryan covered his face as my own burned, and he slapped his palm against the top of the table. “I can’t wait- after eating cater food for months, I’m so ready for something homey. She makes the most amazing lasagna- like, she could open a restaurant with that stuff.”
An embarrassed giggle burst from my throat as Ryan gushed about me- me! He knew it, too, by the way he kept glancing at the camera head on. Leaning back, I rubbed my belly as warmth suffused my chest. In this moment, I didn’t worry about how he’d react.
Ryan was so cute, and I was so lucky.
“Make sure to send me some- I love a good lasagna… I did a DNA test, and I’m 47% Italian-“ Shooting the male host a wry smirk, Ryan sat up with a sharp shake of his head. “Aw- come on! Well, I guess it would be kind of weird to send lasagna through the USPS… we have to go to commercial break, but we’ll be right back!”
“He really said that about me- oh, my God…” Slumping back, my cheeks ached from my grin, and I covered my cheeks with my fingers to snuff out their flames. “Wow…”
“Did you hear that?” I looked at my belly, talking to my baby… “He wants lasagna, my lasagna!”
Wow… Craig always had something negative to say about my cooking; even my award-winning cake wasn’t good enough for him. Rolling my lips between my teeth, I slid down to lay on my side on the microfiber sofa and close my eyes.
I’d filed for divorce four years ago, now, and Craig had made my life a living Hell since. He’d tried to trash my restaurant online with a flood of fake, negative reviews, and he wouldn’t give me my stuff back after I’d moved out of our shared apartment. I was on the lease, but it took me three weeks to get the complex manager to let me in without Craig being there.
He’d even called the cops on me once for assaulting him during an imaginary fight- but they found out pretty quickly that he’d just gotten attacked by an elevator door. Thank God for security cameras.
Craig only signed the divorce papers when the judge told him very plainly that he had no rights to my bakery-slash-restaurant, and he wouldn’t be entitled to any money from the sale. There was nothing in it for him, and that was that.
But Ryan was the exact opposite of Craig. Ryan wanted to be with me even though he already had everything he could ever want. He was a friggen movie star, for Christ’s sake, and he did things for me because it made him feel good to make me feel good.
The difference was stark, and a tiny tear braved the wasteland of my eye to squeeze out from between my lids. Craig is a mistake I’ll never make again. Even if I have to be single… I’ll never forsake myself for a man ever again.
Ryan
Grinning broadly as I stared over the perfect spread, I huffed as success and relief dumped into my chest in equal measure. Happy couldn’t even begin to describe how I felt now that I was home, and I gazed at the flickering, tall candles through rose-colored lenses.
I’d missed Valentine’s Day, but I was going to make it up to Gwen a million times over. Fishing my phone out of my pocket, I navigated to her texts to reread the one sitting just above my text bar.
Gwen: Let me know when you get home. I’ll bring you some lasagna.
My thumbs flew across the keyboard, and I heard her phone buzz just above my head in the master bedroom. Giddiness tightened my gut, and my gaze darted around one final time. Sneaking into her house hadn’t been nearly as hard as I’d expected- she had a key under the flower pot outside, and it didn’t help that I had put it there, either. However, staying as quiet as possible while setting up a romantic, candle-lit dinner? That had been challenging.
Tensing when the stairs creaked ever so slightly, I slipped my phone back into my pocket and rubbed my palms together. Flexing my fingers taut, I rolled my shoulders and straightened my shirt hastily. Snatching the flowers off the chair, my free hand ran through my hair, and my heart didn’t dare beat too loudly lest I didn’t hear her.
Wandering into the kitchen, Gwen had her nose buried in her phone, and a smile picked up her cheeks. Frozen at the sight of her messed hair and trademark pajama pants and camisole, I captured the exact moment when she noticed the candlelight. Her head whipped up, her beautiful face morphing in surprise, and I held out my free hand in silent ‘surprise!’.
“Happy Valentine’s Day…” I barely got the words out beyond my tight throat, and Gwen’s wide eyes met mine, glistening with tears. “I missed you, Gwen.”
“Y- you… you broke into my house?” Sputtering a whisper, Gwen’s smile widened and tenderized, and I shuffled around the chair to take her hand. Bringing her warm fingers to my lips, I relished her little, happy giggle, and her eyes flickered to the small bouquet of white roses. “I love these- they’re my favorite. How’d you know?”
“I have my ways. If I revealed my secret, things wouldn’t be nearly as fun.” Taking a half-step closer, I cupped Gwen’s cheek only to frown slightly. “Did you lose some weight? Your face is less round than when I left- did you miss me that much?”