The Trouble With Before

by Portia Moore

  “Yup,” I say, digging into my breakfast.

  “Wow, so you’re officially official together?”

  “Nope, we broke up actually.”

  She looks at me in shock. “I thought you wanted to make it official, take the next step?”

  “I mean . . . it seemed like the right thing, but Hillary felt like it wasn’t right and I think she’s right.”

  “So you guys are just . . . done?” she asks, almost bewildered.

  “No, actually we’re better than ever. We’re going to go back to how it was—no strings, just fun.” I take a gulp of the orange juice she poured.

  She looks at me in disbelief.

  “What?” I ask.

  She shakes her head. “She said she’s in love with you,” she tells me as if my problem is obvious.

  “Yeah . . . ?” I don’t get her point.

  “Hillary doesn’t seem like the type who’ll be cool with seeing you without strings if she really is in love with you.”

  “Ah, she’s totally cool with it. She convinced me all night.”

  She gives me a disgusted look and laughs. “Okay,” she says sarcastically.

  “It is okay,” I say adamantly.

  “And you’re going to be cool with her seeing other guys?”

  “I mean, I wouldn’t want it right there in my face, but yeah, why not?” I shrug, and she shakes her head again.

  “This is going to be interesting,” she mutters.

  I decide to ignore her . . . and the nagging feeling that she’s right.

  “AIDAN, YOUR PHONE’S ringing.”

  I wake up to Lisa falling asleep on my shoulder and Willa on my lap. I lazily grab my phone and see it’s Tara, a girl I’ve been on a date or two with. I hit Ignore and lie my head back on Lisa’s. She smells good, like strawberries and vanilla.

  “Why don’t you answer?” she says groggily.

  “I’ll talk to her later.”

  “Aidan, you should go out,” she says through a yawn.

  “Why?” I ask, closing my eyes again.

  “Because it’s a Friday and you’re single and dating.”

  I can’t think about anything but how comfortable I am right there. She shifts and stands, stretching. Her belly’s just starting to poke out. She’s wearing an oversized sweater and her hair is styled messily after Willa gave Lisa her best attempt at Elsa’s braid. I smirk at her.

  “What?” she asks, picking up Willa.

  “I got her, Leese.” I take Willa from her arms.

  Lisa follows me into her room, where I lay Willa down.

  “I think you should go out. What’s this one’s name? Tonya?” she asks, sitting on the bed next to Willa.

  “Tara.”

  She nods with a smile that makes my heart speed up. “We’re okay here.”

  I don’t know if it’s the light or the myth of the pregnancy glow, but her eyes are bright and there’s a calm to her—a calm I’d like to be in.

  “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re becoming an old man,” she says, squeezing a pillow in her lap.

  “It’s just getting a little old,” I admit, sitting beside her.

  She looks shocked. “You were ecstatic last month when you and Hillary went on a break.”

  I nod. I think I had about seven one-night stands in two weeks between here and Chicago. “I was. To be honest, I felt like a dog that just got off its leash.”

  She rolls her eyes at me dramatically. “And now . . . ?”

  Her green eyes lock on mine, and I ignore the slight squeeze in my chest. I shrug. “Maybe I am getting old, but seeing multiple women is taking a lot out of me and trying to actually date one, starting over . . .”

  “God, I don’t want to even think about doing that . . . well, I won’t be able to for a while, but . . .” She laughs awkwardly.

  “Leese, after you have this baby, you’re not going to have any trouble getting guys. Shit, I bet some guys would even be into you with the stomach.” I laugh and cringe at the same time. I’d kill a dude who tried to come near her while she’s pregnant, and afterward . . . thinking of her dating . . . I ignore how my stomach drops.

  “You know, after all that’s happened, the last thing on my mind is finding a boyfriend.” She shrugs. “I’m sort of happy now.” She gives me one of the most beautiful smiles I’ve ever seen on her.

  It’s funny how much can change in a month. Lisa has started getting Willa some days through the week and weekends. Mr. Scott has been going back and forth to Chicago, and when he does, he lets Willa stay here. He’s not going this weekend, but Willa wanted to come over, so she’s all ours until tomorrow morning. I’ve gotten used to her being here. She’s such a great kid, and with her being here, it’s an excuse to keep all kinds of junk food in the house and watch cartoons without getting grief from Grams and Lisa. I’ve gotten used to Lisa being here too. I never realized how boring coming home to an empty house could be until Lisa started to take on evening work at the school. I look forward to the days she doesn’t work in the evenings, and I’ve gotten a little selfish with that time. Staying home with her and Willa over going out on a so-so date is a no-brainer.

  “So what time is your appointment tomorrow?” I ask.

  “It’s at nine forty-five, and it’s the ultrasound,” she says with a small grin. I can tell she’s trying to hide her excitement.

  “Okay, you’ve got to let me come.”

  She still looks surprised whenever I tell her I want to go with her to the appointments. “I’m not finding out the sex.”

  “But it’s the first time you’re going to see him.”

  She tilts her head to the side a little with a grin that makes me do the same. “Him?”

  “Or her . . .” I laugh.

  She nods. “Okay.”

  The rest of the night, we follow our sort of ritual of watching TV while she eats BBQ chips and popcorn in handfuls out of one big bowl and I gorge on ice cream with almost a half a bottle of chocolate syrup. We watch Step Brothers and Talladega Nights because it’s Will Ferrell night on TBS. We laugh at the most insane parts and both quote the movie. She calls me a big man-child and I tell her she’s only one step away from being a teenage boy . . . aside from the kid inside her.

  When she falls asleep, I pick her up off the couch, and she throws her arms around me and snuggles into my chest. I lay her down beside Willa on her bed and remind myself that she’s Lisa, my best friend, the big pain in my ass, and not just a beautiful girl. That’s why I don’t kiss her. It’s why I tell myself that tomorrow, I’ll go out with Tara even though I doubt a night out—even with a cute girl who will probably want pretty good sex—will measure up to this.

  The next day, after we drop Willa off at school, we head straight to the doctor’s office. I can tell Lisa’s in a good mood because she sort of hums to the song on the radio. When one of her favorites come on—something by Selena Gomez—she starts to sing. I tell her she sounds like a dead cat and she swats me on the arm before singing even louder.

  The nurses know her by name now, and they all smile at us as she checks in. It’s the third appointment I’ve been to with her. The last two were pretty boring, but I’m really excited about this one. The clinic is full of people today, unlike the other times we’ve come.

  “It’s packed in here, huh?” Lisa says, reading my mind.

  “Yeah, it is,” I tell her as we spot two open seats. We head over and sit down.

  “I want to go to IHOP after this, if you’re free. I’m starving all of a sudden,” she whispers in my ear.

  I ignore how my skin warms up when she’s so close to me. “I’m always free for IHOP.”

  She smiles as if she’s hit the lottery.

  “You two are so cute together,” a woman across from us says, rubbing her stomach. She has to be in her late thirties, and her stomach looks like a giant beach ball. “Are you two expecting?”

  “We’re not—”

  “You’re fiftee
n weeks, right, babe?” I ask, putting my arm around Lisa.

  She stiffens at first, then relaxes and I ignore how right it feels to have her in my arms. We get asked this question at every appointment, and it’s always awkward when she has to answer. Today’s a good day, so I’m not letting difficult questions throw us off.

  “You’re so cute together,” she squeals.

  “Lisa Gregory?” the nurse calls.

  We get up and walk to the door.

  “You’re heading all the way to the back for the ultrasound. Are you excited?” she asks.

  Lisa smiles weakly.

  “She’s ecstatic,” I answer for her, and Lisa grins back at me.

  I wait outside the room as Lisa changes into her gown. She calls me in once she’s changed. She’s lying on her back, and I can see her small bump. Most people who don’t see her every day wouldn’t even be able to tell she’s pregnant though. Grams hasn’t noticed, but I do, I’ve started to notice everything about her. Her pregnancy doesn’t just show in her stomach. It’s in her eyes, her glow—she’s beautiful.

  “Are you nervous?” I ask, because my heart’s beating fast. I’m excited. I know something’s in there, but to see it is a totally different thing.

  She cracks a small smile. “Sort of.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I tell her playfully, and she laughs.

  She hasn’t said it, but with how things have been going and how she’s growing closer to Willa, I know she’s decided to keep the baby, and I’m going to do whatever I can to help her. I’ve even been thinking of suggesting she look at places in Chicago. I’m sure Willa will be going back and forth a lot since the Scotts will be helping Chris and Lauren. I know Lisa will need help when the baby comes. I’ve never made a bottle or anything, but it can’t be too hard. I might even change a diaper or two.

  “Knock, knock.” The door opens and a middle-aged guy who sort of looks like Santa Claus comes in. “I’m Greg Brake. I’ll be checking on your little one today. Lisa Gregory?” He glances at the chart, then at us.

  “Yup, that’s me.”

  “Great! I’d hate to end up in the wrong room again,” he kids. He boisterously sits down near three large monitors. “This is your first ultrasound, right?”

  “Yup. Well, for this pregnancy,” she answers quietly.

  “They’re always exciting. I think I get to do the fun part . . . well, aside from delivering the baby,” He laughs.

  I like that Greg is funny and has an easiness about him. He makes small talk and cracks jokes while he fires up his equipment and preps Lisa by pouring some weird goo on her stomach.

  “This will probably be a little cold,” he tells her.

  “She smiles anxiously.

  “Let’s see what we’ve got here,” he says happily as he starts to move the instrument across Lisa’s belly.

  The speakers attached to the machine are loud with white noise. I watch him move the wand across her belly as she looks at the ceiling, her eyes darting across each tile as if she’s counting. I try to peek at the screen but it’s angled so that Lisa and I can’t see it.

  “So do you get a picture with this one?” I ask.

  Lisa looks at me and smiles. I look at Greg, but his whimsical expression has changed. His brows are furrowed together, and he’s concentrating intently. Lisa glances at him, obviously expecting for him to have answered as well.

  “It’s probably based on hospital policy or something, right, Greg?” I ask, wanting to hear him say something.

  “Um, it always depends.” He clears his throat, squinting at the screen.

  My eyes dart to Lisa. She’s now looking at him instead of the ceiling tiles.

  “Greg, buddy, everything okay? Do you need your glasses?” I joke.

  He clears his throat again. “Just double-checking some things.”

  His double-checking goes on in silence for fifteen minutes. I count each minute on my phone.

  “I’ll be right back. You both sit tight,” he says, his voice higher than before as he pushes off the stool. He smiles, but it’s empty and seems forced.

  Then he rushes from the room. I look back at Lisa, who seems completely still. When he closes the door, I ignore the tightening in my chest. Lisa sits up and rests on her elbows. She looks at me but doesn’t say anything.

  “Is that normal?” I ask.

  She only shrugs, scratching her head. I fight the urge to frown, and I swallow all my nerves. To end the silence eating up everything around us, I talk about IHOP and how I’m going to demolish some hash browns and eggs.

  About ten minutes later, the door opens. This time it’s not smiling Greg; it’s one of the nurses.

  “Hi, Lisa, we’re going to bring in another sonographer just to check things out,” she says quickly.

  “Is everything okay?” Lisa asks with a sharp edge to her voice.

  A short woman with thick glasses comes in, and the tension increases. She sits where Greg did and gives us a weak smile.

  “Who are you?” I ask.

  “I’m Malory Edwards, a diagnostic sonographer. I just wanted to go over some things that Greg didn’t.” Her voice is still and unwavering, not giving a hint of warmness.

  She stares at the screen and moves the wand over Lisa’s stomach. Lisa’s eyes are closed now, and her lips are pressed tightly together. After what seems like the longest time, Ms. Edwards stops.

  “Is something wrong?” Lisa’s voice breaks the stillness in the room.

  “The doctor will be coming in to speak with you in a bit, but we’re going to move you over to the waiting room for right now, okay?”

  Lisa’s eyes lock on mine, and my stomach drops several floors.

  “Um, okay,” Lisa answers hesitantly.

  EVERYTHING WAS NOT okay. The doctor explained it as disappearing fetus syndrome. She said that Lisa no longer had a fetus, but just a sac. It all sounded foreign to me. How could a baby just disappear? How could they not be able to do anything about it? The doctor did her best to explain to me how these things happen, but it seemed as if she was only explaining it to me. Lisa sat there, completely still with no expression on her face, like a mannequin. Dr. Morris went over everything in detail and what would happen next. It brought knots in my stomach that I hadn’t felt since being in Iraq. She explained that Lisa would have a procedure to finalize everything. Her words, not mine. Finalize, as if Lisa’s baby was a bad business deal coming to a close.

  “Lisa?” Dr. Morris asks.

  She gives the slightest nod to let us know that she’s heard us. Dr. Morris looks at me, and I’m at a complete loss. Lisa hasn’t said a single word since we left the ultrasound room. Dr. Morris stands and places a hand on Lisa’s shoulder.

  “Is it . . . is there any chance he’s wrong?” Lisa’s voice is so weak, it doesn’t even sound like her.

  Dr. Morris puts her head down. “I’m sorry, Lisa.”

  I clench my fist, wanting to hit something, but this isn’t a problem I can fix.

  “Take all the time you need,” she says quietly before leaving Lisa and me alone.

  Lisa’s vacant eyes look past me. I let out a long breath. I don’t know what to say to her, what would be the wrong thing or right one. I don’t know what she’s thinking. I can’t imagine how she’s feeling. I wish I had someone else here, someone who could get through to her. Who could say something profound and tell her convincingly that she’ll get through this.

  She was just starting to be okay, starting to convince herself that she could be a good mom. The Lisa before all of this happened was peeking through, the Lisa who laughed and didn’t seem as if she was carrying a weight around her neck, who used to be happy and optimistic. Right now, it looks as if that girl’s gone, and I don’t know who this one is.

  I lean forward, setting my arms on my knees. “Leese, what do you want to do?”

  She’s still, and brings her eyes to mine to let me know that she hears me. I see her hands are shaking on her lap, but she hasn’t s
aid anything.

  “I can’t go through seeing it . . .” Her voice is barely more than a whisper. “I’m not strong enough to handle . . .” She stops, her shaky voice on the cusp of breaking, but she presses her lips together and a single tear leaves her eye.

  I nod, letting her know I understand.

  “I’m so sorry.” Her eyes are watery, but I think she’s doing everything she can to not let them fall. I notice she’s looking at her stomach, her hands cupping it.

  “Lisa, the doctor said it wasn’t your fault,” I tell her, commanding my own voice to steady.

  “I’m so sorry,” she says again. This time, her voice breaks and tears pour from her eyes.

  I run over and pull her into me. She’s limp in my arms, and it’s not just her hands trembling now. It’s her whole body. She keeps repeating those words over and over.

  I want to tell her it’s going to be okay, but after my father passed, everyone kept telling me that and it was as useless as toilet paper to a dog. They didn’t know if my family would be okay. After the funeral, no one even came to make sure that we were.

  So instead, I just hold her and tell her, “I’m here. You’re going to get through this.” My words aren’t empty; it’s a promise. No matter what, I’m going to make sure she gets through this.

  They schedule the procedure for Lisa that evening. After we leave the clinic, we go straight to the hospital, and Lisa barely says a word before the procedure. Afterward, barely turns to nothing.

  Dr. Morris said that she’d be a little out of it due to the drugs she was given, and she let me know the things Lisa would need. So while Lisa is in surgery, I go to the store and get everything Dr. Morris wrote on the list. I’ve never been in this aisle before and it’s confusing, but one of the workers helps me out. I’ve never been so thankful for help in my whole life.

  Our ride home is quiet except for the music on the radio. I keep it on her favorite station, but this time, there’s no humming or singing. I help her into the house and to her room. I try to think of something to say, something important enough for her to respond to, but everything seems so trivial. I wish she’d say something, but then I remember she probably wishes that what happened tonight never did. Nobody’s wishes are coming true tonight.