“I’m happy like this,” I told her.
“Me too,” she mumbled, snuggling in closer. She was laying half across me since there wasn’t really room for us to lie side by side in such a narrow bed. “Although maybe I should look into getting a bigger bed.”
“That’s not what I mean,” I said, smiling down at her. “I’m happy like this, being with you. I know we got this way through a drunken mistake, but I’m happy.”
She looked up at me. “You like pretending like we’re married?”
“Are we pretending?”
“Aren’t we?”
I wrapped my arms more tightly around her. “This feels real enough to me.”
She sighed. “You know it can’t last. We’ve got an expiration date stamped on us.”
“What if we didn’t? What if we just… left things the way they are.”
Her dark eyes blinked. “You mean, stay married?”
I never thought I’d say the words either, but the truth was, I was happy. I liked having Faith as my partner in things. I liked having her near me. “Maybe.”
Her eyes were wide, but then she shook her head back and forth like she’d just figured something out. “You can’t mean that. You’re only saying that because your brain is full of sex-hormones.”
“I don’t think so. I think I’m in love with you.”
Her soft lips parted and then they pressed into a little line. “Don’t tell me that,” she said after a moment. “Please don’t tell me that if you aren’t sure.”
“I am sure.” Seeing her brush away my feelings made me even more sure I had to convince her. “I’m in love with you.”
Faith’s expression was pensive. She watched propped herself up on an elbow at looked down at me. “I want all the things you say that you don’t want, Eric. I want a marriage. I want kids. I want a white picket fence. You don’t want those things.”
That was true, or it had been true, but now… “I don’t want to lose you.”
“Let’s just go to sleep,” she told me. Something in her tone made my heart twist. After telling her all the awful truth behind my issues, it was going to be even more difficult to ever get her to believe me.
“Just think about it,” I told her.
We drifted in the quiet for a little while. I was almost asleep when I heard her final words. I think she thought I was asleep. The melancholy tone of in her voice made me feel hopeless.
“I’m not trying to change you, Eric. I’m not that girl. I don’t want to be that girl, because you’ll just end up resenting me in the end. I’m falling in love with you, too, but it’s not something I should let myself do. Let’s just enjoy this while we can.”
37
Eric
I ran into Kyle Emery in the grocery store. We were both browsing for non-dairy milks.
“Oh, hey man,” he said, looking up from the two cartons of weird milks that he was debating between. “This is weird. Are you lactose intolerant, too?”
I shook my head. “No. But I think Faith might be.”
She’d been having issues lately with nausea. I suspected she might be lactose intolerant and had suggested she try cutting out dairy. She’d been reluctant but willing to give it a try. I just hated seeing her get sick.
“Well, let me not recommend that one,” Kyle said, pointing to one of the many options in the cooler. “It tastes like rotten rhino taint.”
“As opposed to delicious fresh rhino taint?” I mocked.
Kyle rolled his eyes. “Go ahead. Feed your wife rotten rhino taint-tasting milk. See if I care.”
I smirked. Kyle was really an ok guy. If I had friends, I might want him for one.
“Are you putting Faith on the exclusion protocol for dairy?” Kyle asked, undeterred. “If you are, I’d recommend the almond milk. Sometimes people have issues with all soy products that are almost worse than the lactose.”
I raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure if Faith would let me formally treat her like that. She has her own doctor.”
“That’s probably for the best,” he said after a moment. “My parents were doctors and they were constantly diagnosing me with all kinds of shit I didn’t have and keeping me ‘protected’. Thanks to them, I’m allergic to like half the world because I was sheltered so much. Love is not the best medicine sometimes.”
I nodded. “I’d definitely put Faith in a bubble if I thought it would help her.”
I would, too. I’d become almost frighteningly attached to Faith. The idea that anything might hurt her physically or harm her emotionally, had become anathema.
“You know,” Kyle added, “speaking of which… if she’s been nauseated lately, you might want to take the Occam’s Razor answer before diagnosing her as lactose intolerant.”
Occam’s Razor, the principal that said that the simplest answer was usually the correct one, was a frequently cited medical tool/shortcut. There were all types of diagnostic algorithms that were basically just extensions of Occam’s Razor. I was well versed in it. However, in this moment, I was stumped.
“Huh?” I asked.
His expression was more gentle than condescending, although there were shades of both. “Did you forget Occam’s Razor?”
“Not likely.” It was drilled into every doctor. I probably knew Occam’s Razor, and how to apply it in clinical situations, better than I knew my own name.
Kyle’s smile broadened as my confusion became clear. He was obviously enjoying watching me struggling for the answer. “Ok doctor lets put it this way. A recently married, completely healthy young woman is presenting with seemingly random episodes of nausea. You can’t establish any clear dietary or environmental cause. There are no indications for infection. What’s your preliminary diagnosis?”
I frowned deeply at him, catching on. It was obvious. Obvious and also very wrong. “I don’t think so. We took steps.”
He shrugged, tossed one of cartons into his basket and turned to go. “Suit yourself. Pregnancy tests are on aisle four, right next to the condoms you say you’re using. See you at St. Vincent’s.”
I scowled at the non-dairy subsection of the dairy section for a good ten minutes after that. Then, I grabbed some almond milk, some non-dairy cream cheese, and a lactose-free whipped cream that I was looking forward to using in bed.
Pregnancy tests. What a completely ridiculous suggestion.
38
Faith
Eric and I made it through all of the remaining month of February and half of March without another threat to our fake marriage. The nurses who had been cold to me, thawed out. Our lives settled into a relative normal. Our elaborate scheme was starting to feel very real, or at least it was starting to feel like a real relationship. Then, in mid March, I realized something very, very important. I hadn’t had my period in over a month.
That was how I found myself squinting at a pregnancy test in the bathroom of a KFC next to a Walgreens on a Sunday morning after church. The result made me immediately throw up. Twice.
“It could be a false positive,” Caroline said when I called her, nearly hyperventilating ten minutes later. I had my head between my knees.
“I did it three times,” I told her, pinching the bridge of my nose with a shaking hand and staring at the patterned tile floor of the KFC like it might have the answers etched in the grout lines. “The likelihood of three false positives is pretty low.”
“Weren’t you using protection though?”
“Yeah, of course we were.” We always used condoms. Every single time. And we were a doctor and a nurse for heaven’s sake. We knew how to use them properly.
Caroline’s voice was reasonable, like she was trying to talk me off the ledge. “Well then the probability game is on your side. When used correctly, condoms are over ninety-nine percent effective. Home pregnancy tests, on the other hand…”
I shook my head, although of course she couldn’t see it. My vision blurred as the tears sloshed from side to side over my eyes. “—Caroline, I kn
ow you’re trying to comfort me, but I do this for a living. Home pregnancy tests almost never give false positives. They give false negatives all the time, but not false positives. And condoms are only about ninety-eight percent effective when used perfectly. Typical use is actually more like eighty-nine percent effectiveness.”
How could I let this happen to me? How could I possibly let this happen to me? My heart was galloping against my ribs. It hurt like it was trying to escape my body entirely.
“Ok, so you’re pregnant,” Caroline said hesitantly. “We’ll figure something out. Do you want me to come meet you?”
“Do you mind?” My voice was small.
“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
I waited for her outside the KFC, thinking the entire time that I would never enjoy the smell of fried chicken ever again. I usually liked the smell fried chicken, despite the fact that it was meat. Today, it made me positively nauseated. Or maybe it was the morning sickness.
Caroline peeled into the parking lot and squealed to a stop in front of me.
“Get in,” she told me.
“But my car--” I warbled. I was one stiff breeze away from collapsing on the sidewalk in tears.
“We’ll come back for it later,” she promised.
I got in the car with her, hoisting myself up into the massive SUV she drove. Compared to my little Honda, her vehicle was enormous. According to Caroline, who was from Texas, only little old ladies drove compact sedans.
Caroline drove us to a local milkshake place and ordered me the biggest, most chocolate-y thing on the menu.
“Drink that.”
I drank it. After a little while, I was able to speak again.
“This is really tasty,” I managed in between deep sips of sugary goodness. “It doesn’t make anything better, but it makes me feel better.”
“That’s the idea.” Caroline was smiling, but she was also looking at me like I might break down at any moment.
“This is so bad.”
“You’ve got options,” she said gently. “It’s really early.”
I shook my head. “I don’t have options.” I couldn’t imagine any future for myself that didn’t involve having this baby and keeping it. Even though I had barely even considered the prospect of having a baby, I was already in love with the tiny life inside me. Even though it would mean my life changed radically, having and keeping this baby was the only way for me.
“Eric is going to be so angry,” I mumbled. He didn’t want children. He didn’t even want to be married to me.
“You don’t know that.” Caroline made a face. “Plus, this is fifty percent his fault.”
I shook my head. “He’s going to hate me.”
Eric had told me more about his childhood in the past month. It sounded hellish. He was born with all the privilege in the world, but all it had been for him was a cage. His father sounded controlling in the extreme. Aside from what Eric’s dad had done to his mother and her girlfriend, he’d been an absent, distant parent to Eric and his sisters. They were lucky to have the mothers they had, but the whole experience had convinced Eric that he should never procreate, if only to prevent more innocent kids from being used by his family like pawns.
“You shouldn’t assume that,” Caroline insisted. “You don’t know how he’ll react until you tell him.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t tell him at all.”
The particularly nasty exchange that I’d had with Eric’s sister had impressed upon me the depths to which she would go to protect him. My resentment over it hadn’t gone away. I could only imagine that she’d see this as an attempt to trap him in this marriage. He might see it that way, too.
“You can’t keep it a secret forever.”
“Can’t I?” The wheels were turning in my head, full of wild ideas. “I can move away. He never needs to know about the baby.”
“You need to slow down,” Caroline told me. “You don’t have to make decisions right now. Just breathe.”
I followed her instructions and forced myself to take a few deep breaths. My heart hurt at the prospect but running away sounded like a perfectly good idea. If Eric never knew about the baby, he would be better off. We both would. Then, another concern eclipsed the Eric question entirely.
“Oh, god, I haven’t even thought about my mom.”
No matter what, my mom would not be happy to learn that I was pregnant. She wanted grandchildren more than anything in this world, but she definitely didn’t want them like this. The feelings of panic that the chocolate milkshake had temporarily put at bay came rushing back.
“You don’t have to make any decisions right now,” Caroline repeated. She was a saint for coming to get me today. I owed her a massive thank you but at the moment all I could think about was myself. “You need to take some time to think about this. And you need to see a doctor and confirm you’re even pregnant. You might be sure the tests are right, but you know weirder things have happened than a few wrong tests.”
Through the panicked haze of my fear, I heard her words. It took a few moments, but they eventually sunk in. I sucked down a few more frantic gulps of the milkshake.
“You’re right,” I said into the silence. Caroline exhaled like she’d been holding her breath.
“It’s going to be ok,” she told me. “No matter what. It’s going to be ok. I’ll help you however I can.”
I nodded, but only because I knew it would put her at ease. It wasn’t going to be ok at all. Even if I somehow managed to keep this pregnancy from Eric, my mom was never going to forgive me.
39
Faith
“Look, I can wave!” Vanessa told me, bending down the fingers of her left hand very, very slightly. It wasn’t much of a wave, but it was progress. “Well, sort-of,” she amended.
“That’s awesome,” I told her, although working up the excitement I knew she wanted me to feel on her behalf wasn’t easy.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, letting her left forearm fall limply back in her lap. It would be many months before she’d be able to use it somewhat normally. In some ways, it would have been easier for her to learn to use a prosthetic arm. With reattachments, sometimes the nerves don’t get back quite in the same place they were originally. Sometimes, trying to move your ring finger would move your thumb instead.
For the first time, I knew what it was like to have my body betray me, too. “I’m pregnant,” I told her in a frightened whisper. “That’s why I came by today. I’m going to miss our lunch tomorrow with you and Caroline. I’m going up to New York to see my mom and grandparents. I have no idea what I’m gonna’ do.”
Vanessa’s lips parted. Then her eyes filled up with tears. “I’m sorry,” she said, dabbing them away with her functional right hand. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m crying Faith…”
I sat down next to her. “It’s ok.” I was just confused. Why was she crying over the fact that I was pregnant? This was the first time I’d seen her cry in all this time. After everything, this was what made her cry? Shouldn’t I be the one crying?
“It’s just that I’m so jealous,” she said after a moment. I grabbed her some tissues. The rehabilitation level of the hospital was thankfully full of them. It was an area that saw a lot of crying and frustration. Vanessa was struggling to regain her composure and failing. She took a couple of deep breaths.
“Jealous?” I questioned. She was jealous of my out-of-wedlock, unplanned pregnancy? I knew Vanessa wasn’t Catholic, but this situation wasn’t exactly cause for celebration for most unwed women.
Vanessa frowned and blinked away her tears like they’d betrayed her. “I know that Sam and I weren’t trying or anything, but when I got my period the month after he… well, I guess I’d just hoped that maybe there would be a miracle or something.”
I paused. Oh god. How could I have not thought of that. “You wanted there to be a baby.” Of course, she did. Who wouldn’t?
She nodded miserably at me. “Then at least I would have
the baby. His baby.” The look in her eyes made my heart break a little for the children that she and Sam would never have. “I’d have a piece of him, alive, forever.”
I swallowed hard. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve realized… I never should have said anything.”
Her expression was mystified. “You couldn’t have known.” She was letting me off the hook so easily. “Faith there’s no way you could have known.”
I could’ve though. In her situation, I’m sure I would have felt the exact same way. How can you lose the man you loved, the man you wanted to marry, and not miss those hypothetical children that would never be? In her situation, I would be utterly devastated. I felt horrible.
“I’m so sorry, Vanessa.” I hung my head in shame.
She shook hers. “It’s ok. Faith, you couldn’t have known.” She paused for a moment, studying my face. “So, what are you going to do?”
I swallowed nervously again. “I don’t know. This isn’t planned. I know Eric doesn’t want the baby. He doesn’t want anything to do with it.”
“You already told him?” Her eyebrows shot up her face. “He said that?”
“I don’t have to tell him,” I said sadly. “I know.”
I trusted Eric. In all our time together so far, he’d never lied to me. He told me that he didn’t want children, and I trusted that it was true.
“You should tell him,” Vanessa said softly. “I’m not saying you need to tell him right away—get your head on straight first—but you should tell him. This is his baby, too. He ought to know.”
I shook my head. I didn’t want to argue with Vanessa. She was too delicate and at the moment so was I. “I’m going to New York to get my head on straight,” I said instead. “I need to figure out my game plan.”
Vanessa nodded. “No matter what, you can do this.”
A Bad Case of You Page 18