They’d been in the beige waiting room for almost thirty minutes, and she was beginning to grow listless. Picking up yet another teen magazine, she thumbed through its pages, and stopped suddenly. In the centerfold was Bradley, taking up two whole pages with his wide shoulders and smirking grin.
Heidi felt sick.
“Hey, Dad,” she said shakily, “I’m gonna go to the bathroom.”
He looked at her with worried eyes. “You look a little ill, kid, what happened?”
“I think maybe just some morning sickness,” she lied.
“Do you want me to help you there?”
“Help me to the bathroom? Nah, I can still open doors by myself,” she said with a laugh, and kissed him on the forehead.
Heidi crossed the waiting area, took the bathroom key off the wall, and went down the hall to the women’s restroom. Safely inside, she locked herself in a stall and began to shake, rocking back and forth, arms wrapped around herself for comfort.
She had tried so hard not to think of Bradley today, and there he was, staring out of a glossy page, deep into her eyes. It wasn’t fair.
Because, ultimately, he should be there. He should be holding her hand when she found out the gender of their baby, should brush her hair back with an affectionate look, overcome with love for the mother of his child. She scaled back her expectations to something reasonable: he should at least know that the baby existed.
She’d tried to get in contact with him several times. Yeah, she knew she wasn’t supposed to do it, and that it put her court case in serious jeopardy, but whatever. He deserved to know. She also hadn’t told the lawyers her parents had hired when she’d at last told them the situation.
They’d gleaned some of it from the press, she thought, and she’d divulged bits and pieces, but they hadn’t really put it together. When it all at last lined up—that his management had screwed up her career, that Bradley was the father—they’d refused to sit idly by.
“We’re gonna fight this,” her mom had insisted. As a real estate lawyer, she had connections all over town, and most all of them owed her a favor.
Dina Morris had assembled her daughter’s legal team in the span of only two days. Heidi had stopped trying to dissuade her parents from helping her. As a soon-to-be parent herself, she understood that she would take similarly drastic measures to keep her baby out of harm’s way.
Running a hand over the back of her hair to smooth out the tangles, Heidi gathered her energy. She needed to be strong today—and every day for the rest of her life.
Still emotionally wobbly, she unlocked the stall, and walked back to the waiting room. She found her father chatting amicably with another pregnant woman.
“So, when are you due?” Tom asked.
“Any day now,” the woman replied, smiling with a mixture of nerves and excitement.
“Wonderful, just wonderful,” her dad said with a smile. He turned, hearing Heidi’s arrival, and asked, “Isn’t that wonderful, honey?”
She loved how open-hearted a man he was, how he could find joy anywhere.
“Yeah, Dad,” she returned, and to the stranger, said, “It’s wonderful.”
Personally, Heidi was a little tired of receiving all this acclaim for a simple biological function. Once her stomach had begun to show, enough that people were no longer afraid to ask if she was pregnant (for fear that she wasn’t, and they’d made a terribly awkward mistake), they were startlingly free with their touch.
Folks she’d never met would rub her stomach, as if she were a Buddha statue. Grandmothers on the street would stop to give her advice about keeping her hair shiny. In general, the pregnancy made her feel as though she were on display in a shop window, a thing for people to ogle at.
Still, she appreciated that her dad was trying to bolster this woman’s spirits; she appeared to have arrived alone, and was shifting anxiously in her seat. Just then, a nurse popped her head out of the door.
“Ms. Morris?”
“That’s me,” Heidi said. She looked at her dad, and asked, “You coming?”
“You think I drove you all the way here and I wouldn’t hold your hand through the appointment? As if.”
She laughed at her dad’s attempt at slang, which was twenty years out of date. Classic.
“Okay, then,” the nurse interjected, “The doctor will see you now.”
Heidi took a deep breath and nodded.
“I’ll lead the way,” Tom said, having clearly noted Heidi’s shaky inhales.
The nurse opened the door wider, allowing her dad to pass through, and Heidi hung back for a moment. She lifted a finger in the direction of the nurse, indicating that she’d just be a second. Then, she turned to the other woman in the waiting room.
“I just wanted to say,” she murmured to the stranger, “that it’s gonna be okay. I know I’m here with my dad, but…the baby’s father isn’t in my life, either. Not to be presumptuous, but—anyway. Good luck. You’ll do great.”
The woman smiled back at her, and replied, “Thanks. From one pregnant girl to another…thank you.”
Heidi nodded, and pivoted to follow the nurse through to the back of the office. She was glad she had said something.
The nurse led her and her father to an exam room, where she was instructed to hop up on the paper-covered bed.
“Lean back,” the nurse said. “Get comfortable.”
She set a cup of water on a nearby table, and said the doctor would be in shortly.
Tom tried to distract Heidi during the eternity it seemed to take for the doctor to arrive. He told bad jokes, read aloud from some of the pamphlets, making up ridiculous facts, and talked about the comings and goings of their various family friends. Heidi half-listened, just enough to nod in the right places, but didn’t participate much at all in the conversation.
Thankfully, they were interrupted by a knock on the door before her dad could break out his “going down the stairs” mime routine. The doctor, a young man with rimless glasses and a thick mop of blond hair, greeted her with an extended hand.
“Heidi Morris?”
“Yes, hello, Doctor…”
“Grant. Just call me Grant.”
“And I’m her dad,” Tom offered. “Here for a little fatherly support.”
“Nice to meet you, Heidi’s dad. Now,” Grant said, scanning a clipboard, “I see you’re almost five months along. How’d you like to know the baby’s sex?”
Heidi grinned. “That’s kinda what I’m here for.”
“Then let’s have a look!”
He washed his hands in a nearby sink, then grabbed a tube of gel and squirted over her rounded belly. She flinched at the cold sensation.
“Sorry, sorry,” he said, looking regretful. “I always forget to warn patients about the cold; it’s like the one thing I’m supposed to do.”
She felt bad for this Grant, who was clearly new to the job.
“Don’t worry about it,” she replied. “I’m tough.”
He smiled back and turned on the ultrasound monitor, lifting the probe out of its holster.
“Okay, here we go.”
He rubbed the wand over her stomach and it slid back and forth in the jelly. Heidi felt as if her body had become an air hockey table, with the wand as a puck. The room was silent; even the normally chatty Tom had grown quiet with anticipation.
“Well?” she asked, her voice breaking. “Is everything okay?”
“Hm? Oh, yes, yes of course,” Grant replied. “Just perfect. You both are in great shape.”
“And the gender…?” she questioned, trailing off.
Tom tacked on a small drum roll to the end of her words.
“You,” the doctor said, “are going to have a baby boy.”
“Holy mackerel!” her dad cried with glee. “Honey, isn’t that great? Are you happy? Not that gender matters, but still! A healthy baby boy!”
She forced a smile she didn’t feel. “Yeah, Dad. I’m super happy.”
But
she wasn’t, not really. Obviously, she was relieved to hear that the baby was doing well, that went without saying. Her heart ached, though, for Bradley. He should’ve been next to her, listening to the news while holding her hand.
She could imagine him, strong guy that he was, letting a few tears escape. Knowing him, he would’ve had extensive opinions on what they should name a boy—maybe something formal, or perhaps an old family name. She thought tearfully of this moment that should have been theirs, that could never belong to the both of them.
She kept up a strong front for her dad, and thanked Grant, all the while knowing that her facade of happiness was crumbling. Sooner or later, everyone would see the gaping hole in her heart.
Chapter 19
Heidi
Heidi groaned. She wasn’t prepared for the Herculean task that was rolling out of bed. She struggled and floundered, feeling altogether like a beached whale.
And then her eyes snapped open. She’d almost forgotten what day it was.
Suddenly, there was an urgency to her fumbling, and she struggled into a sitting position, leaning back briefly against the pillows with exhaustion.
“Get up,” she said aloud. “You need to get up.”
That was easier said than done at eight months pregnant. At her most recent check-up a few days ago, she’d asked the doctor if it was normal, this sheer size. He’d cocked an eyebrow and remarked that it was a little unusual, but only that it indicated that the baby was going to be quite large.
“Is your…was, ah…the person who impregnated you…was he particularly tall?” Grant had asked.
Yes, she’d thought sullenly, he was gigantic.
Grant wasn’t particularly progressive for a young person, and appeared to have a hard time reconciling the fact that Heidi was having her baby without a partner being involved. She liked him all the same, and it was obvious that he was making an effort to keep her comfortable, but nevertheless, it did at times cross the line into grating on her nerves.
Especially when he would say in passing how useful it would be to know more about the father, to be able to do a blood sample or a gene-sequencing. She had given up hope that he would drop the daddy subject, and there was no point in switching doctors this late in the game. That would be a bigger risk than her mild annoyance with his attitude.
He couldn’t possibly fathom how badly she wanted to involve Bradley. Every time he brought it up, he inadvertently pricked her spirit and let happiness bleed out. But she couldn’t, wouldn’t play fantasy dream house. Her child needed a mother grounded in the here and now, not one who got caught up dreaming of a different life.
Thus, it was to that end that she was going to court today, albeit reluctantly.
A few months back, when her mother had first acquired her a team of lawyers, Heidi had vehemently maintained that she had worked for Bradley as an independent contractor, not an employee of Image-ine. Regardless, when they’d told her that it was in her best interest to settle out of court, Heidi had listened to their points.
“You don’t want your child to be born under the cloud of a lawsuit,” one had offered.
“Your mother,” another added, “mentioned there were some money troubles, and that you wanted to pay her back for our services, so—”
“We think that, for your mental health and financial solubility, it’s in your best interest to settle,” the first explained.
Heidi had been skeptical. No, more than skeptical. She’d been mad, and anxious, and confused, and totally lost. She’d understood that the legal team wanted what was best for both of their interests, but she was still out to sea on this one. Was it better to deal with a drawn out lawsuit, and potentially win back her pride (and some cash), or should she slink off quietly, and rid her life of this problem?
She’d refused to fall victim to hubris, to the belief that, somehow, one woman telling the truth could change the almost inevitable outcome of Bradley’s triumph, were it to come to a full-fledged lawsuit. The system wasn’t designed for her to win; she didn’t have the money or the fame.
Ultimately, she’d agreed to the settlement. It had taken her dignity down a few notches, to essentially admit a wrongdoing that she hadn’t, well, done. But her lawyers had advised it, and she’d had to concede that they knew best.
At last, she arose from bed, stretched her arms, and took a minute to rub coconut oil over her swollen belly. Next, she waddled to her closet, which had become a daily battleground. It was a pity, actually; she used to take such comfort in running her hands across the soft silks and linens, watching the colors dance around one another.
Sure, she’d gone out and bought maternity wear—it wasn’t as if she were walking around naked—but it was hard to convince herself to look cute when she felt like crap. Either her feet hurt, or her boobs ached, or her back was sore…whatever it was, it meant putting on a nice outfit had begun to feel as futile as fitting back into her old clothes.
She’d bought a special outfit for today, though. Her mom had advised that Heidi underscore her beatific pregnancy to gain compassion from the jury. And Heidi had to admit, as much as the pregnancy had made her feel physically uncomfortable, it also seemed to transform her into an angelic-looking being.
Her auburn hair, which had always been shiny, had started to bounce and gleam. Her skin radiated warmth with its newfound peachy undertones. Her face had become a little fuller, and it suited her well. In short, she looked the image of youthful health—even if she didn’t always feel it.
With that in mind, she donned the cap-sleeved maxi dress in white linen that flowed over her stomach and pooled in waves around her feet. She had gone a bit literal with the Biblical imagery, but she was past caring. She braided the front sections of her hair and tied them back around her head to create a crown effect. Twirling in the mirror, she looked like an angel about to ascend.
Heidi stopped and put her hand on her stomach.
“Wish me luck,” she said to the child inside her.
She floated down the stairs, and found her parents waiting anxiously in the kitchen. Tom was making pancakes with strawberries while Dina did a final read-through of some legal documents.
“Wowza, my daughter’s a vision,” her dad crowed. Wiping his hands off on his apron, he moved towards her, arms outstretched.
“Come on, Dad,” she said with a laugh, “I’m wearing all white. We both know you’re too clumsy to hug me without staining anything.”
He opened his mouth as if to disagree, when Dina interjected.
“How about I hug her, and say it’s from the both of us?”
Tom relented, and Dina wrapped her daughter in her arms.
“It’s gonna be fine, sweetie,” she whispered into Heidi’s ear while rubbing her back. “Just fine.”
Heidi nodded, putting on a strong front. She pulled out of the hug.
“Pancake time?” she asked hopefully.
They sat down around the kitchen table and dug in. Heidi ate three servings, maple syrup and all; pregnancy was hungry work. At last, she wiped her mouth with a napkin, and turned to look at the microwave clock.
“I think it’s time to go,” she said quietly.
Wordlessly and in perfect unison, her parents stood. Tom grabbed the dishes and placed them in the sink, while Dina snatched the car keys from the living room.
Only minutes later, they were piled into the family SUV, which had been around since Heidi was in high school. She felt a bit like a child now, the way she automatically sat in the back while the ‘grown-ups’ were in front.
Even as I’m on my way to court to settle with my ex-lover, the father of my child, she thought with wonder, I still feel like a kid.
The universe was funny like that.
Soon—too soon—they had pulled up to the courthouse. She looked out her window and saw her lawyers waiting on the steps. One gave a nervous little wave.
“Do you see any paparazzi?” she asked her parents, craning her neck.
“N
o, dear, why would there be paparazzi?” her mother replied.
She shook her head. Her parents’ nonexistent grasp on celebrity culture was impossible to surmount. Reluctantly, she opened the door and exited the vehicle, making her way up the steps to greet her legal team.
“Hey guys,” she said vaguely, too stressed to come up with a more sophisticated greeting.
They all anxiously chattered around her like a flock of birds, assuring her many times that there was nothing to be worried about. She reassured them half a dozen times that she was feeling okay, that she didn’t regret this decision. Nobody said you had to be honest with your lawyers.
Together with her parents and the legal team, Heidi strode into the court house. This wasn’t a New York courthouse; for all that Orlando had developed, its institutional buildings remained unimpressive. The paint was peeling, and the ceiling had cracks. It felt like more like a dingy city college than a place of law.
Was this where she was to have her final encounter with Bradley? On stained carpet, under bad lighting? How could such a (fleetingly) glorious relationship end with so little beauty or importance?
Heidi scanned the rooms, looking for number 107. It was at the end of the hallway, next to some rusty water fountains. She grimaced and pushed open the doors, her less-than-glamorous entourage in tow.
In the middle of the room was Gary, looking like he was out for blood.
“Fuck you,” she muttered under her breath. Part of her hoped he would hear it.
Her former boss was flanked on both sides by a group of mean-looking attorneys—neat, vicious images in perfectly tailored suits and impeccable crew cuts. She knew the type: ex-frat boys. All of them wore flashy cufflinks and slightly too-short ties. Her party, in contrast, looked mild-mannered, middle-aged and friendly. Not exactly the right team with which to oppose a pack of wolves.
But that didn’t mean they were any good at their job. After all, Gary’s team were the sort who had sailed through college and law school on cocaine and veiled bribes to teachers. More often than not, they were all flash, no substance.
Or so she hoped.
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