by Hannah Ford
Her hands were shaking as she sat and dipped the test strip into the urine. She counted to three and then took the strip out and laid it across a folded up piece of toilet paper on top of the sink to let it dry.
The instructions had said that she could get results in as soon as forty seconds, but the entire time of three minutes should be allowed for full results.
So Nicole got up and stared at the strip lying on the sink and watched it. It was sort of like watching paint dry, she decided, only a whole lot more interesting. Her entire life was going to change depending on the results.
It occurred to her that she hadn’t truly thought about whether or not she wanted a child. Obviously it would be crazy to have a baby in the current situation, but what if Red was still in the picture?
They’d talked about having kids and Nicole knew she wanted to start a family someday, preferably when she was young enough to have two or three children without worrying about her age and reproductive capabilities.
As she was thinking about all of this, as her mind spun round and round the different what ifs and possibilities, her eyes suddenly registered what was happening to the test strip. First the one line appeared, which she knew could mean a negative. But then quickly thereafter, the second line began appearing, as if by magic.
Nicole swooned a little, watching the tiny purplish line slowly (but faster than she’d ever expected) appearing on the little stick.
“Oh my god,” she whispered. “Oh my god.”
She was pregnant.
Nicole didn’t know what to do next.
She sat on the toilet and held the pregnancy strip in her hand and marveled at how such a tiny, flimsy little thing could have such an enormous, earth-shattering impact on her future.
No matter what happens from here on, I’ll never be able to say I’ve never been pregnant. I’m pregnant with Red Jameson’s baby.
Even thinking the words didn’t make it seem real. The realness of it only served to make it more…unreal.
That was the word that should be used to describe her life now, Nicole thought. If someone made a movie about her or wrote a book, it would be called Unreal: The Nicole Masters Story.
She smiled a little at her crazy, jumbled thoughts, but then the smile died when she again stared at the test strip. Okay, possible false positive? She wondered.
Time to try again.
She ripped open the second test (a totally different brand) and also dipped that in the cup of urine.
Minutes later, it too had come up positive.
And not long after, she did the third one (because everyone knew three times is a charm and three strikes your out, etc. etc.).
They all said the same thing. Nicole Masters was incontrovertibly pregnant, and now she needed to figure out what to do next.
***
Nicole wasn’t sure exactly when she’d decided that she needed to talk to Red. Everything was happening so fast. And yet, at other moments, time seemed to have slowed to a crawl and the seconds were like hours.
She removed all evidence of her pregnancy from the bathroom, threw it all in a trash bag and then dumped that trash bag into the bottom of another bag full of garbage that Danielle would be very unlikely to sift through (unless she was secretly working for the FBI or something).
With that piece done, Nicole took out her phone and sat in the living room, staring at Red’s cell number.
Danielle had already gone off to work, so she had the apartment to herself. Nicole sure as heck wasn’t going to the office today. No, today was a day she definitely needed some “me time.” Time to figure out how the hell she was going to deal with this issue, time to decide whether she could manage this on her own or whether Red might actually step up to the plate and help her to work through things.
But she was scared. She was scared first and foremost that Red had already moved on, put her in the past. Maybe he hadn’t really loved her the way she’d loved him—he certainly hadn’t played the part of a loving fiancé when he’d dumped her unceremoniously after his brother’s visit to his mansion.
Nicole didn’t believe that was the real Red who’d dumped her, who’d told her that he was protecting her from himself. Nicole thought that Red had been overcome by fear and self-doubt and self-loathing. He truly believed that she would be better off without him in her life.
Still, there was an echo of doubt reverberating in her mind. Maybe it was her mother’s voice, so sure of the fact that Red Jameson was nothing but a scoundrel, the worst kind of man you could meet—an undependable man.
Would Red even want to know that she was pregnant? She wondered.
Finally she forced herself to dial his number.
And her call went right to voicemail.
The mailbox was full, so she couldn’t even leave a message. After so much tension had built up inside her, struggling about even making this call, she was crushed to realize that Red’s phone was basically a nonworking number now.
The next step was even worse.
She had no choice but to show up at his home and demand to see him.
Changing into a decent outfit (a sleeveless blue dress and sandals), Nicole left the apartment and took the train out as far as she could, and then grabbed a taxi to take her the rest of the way to Red’s mansion.
She tried to keep herself calm as they got closer and closer. When they finally arrived at the front gate, the taxi driver turned to her. “You sure this is the place?” he asked.
“I’m sure,” she said, a horrible feeling coming over her.
The guard at the gate was someone she didn’t recognize. An older man with a bald head and white mustache, he glanced inside at her and then spoke to the driver. “Can I help you?”
“This girl asked me to take her here.”
“Name please?” The guard said, now directing the questions at her.
“Nicole. Masters. It’s an emergency.”
“What sort of emergency, ma’am?”
“I need to see Red—I mean, I need to speak to Mister Jameson as soon as possible.” She tried to keep the neediness and fear out of her voice lest this stranger assume she was one of Red’s groupies, a stalker who’d carried out some delusional fantasy of seducing the powerful executive.
Red had told her such things happened from time to time and the security guards would all be well aware of it.
Nicole hated that she fit the profile, and she hated Red for putting her in a position of having to beg to see him.
The guard retreated back to his booth and picked up the phone. He had a brief conversation.
Nicole’s heart was pounding again. When the man came back to the taxi, he was stone faced and unapologetic. “I’ll relay the message ma’am.”
“Is he here?”
“I’m not at liberty to say. But I’ll do my best to make sure he knows you’ve stopped by and that the matter is urgent.”
“I promise you, he’ll really want to know—“
The guard held up a hand. “I understand ma’am. This is the best I can do.”
The tears were in her eyes as she nodded and sat back in her seat. “Okay. Thanks.”
The taxi driver glanced in his rearview mirror at her. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah. Just take me back to the train station,” she said softly.
***
There was nothing to do but go back to the apartment and sulk and fret and pace.
She couldn’t sit still and watch TV or read a book. There was nobody she trusted enough to call or talk to about this, other than Red. And apparently he didn’t want to talk to her. She couldn’t even be sure he was home or knew she’d come by.
After all, the word around town and in all the gossip sites was that Red had lit off for unknown territories; they had him looking like Tom Hanks in Cast Away. Bearded, perhaps wearing nothing but shorts and a tattered old t-shirt, stumbling about on some faraway beach and drinking Coronas, eating clams, getting that beer belly he’d always sworn he’d
never get.
If Red were in such a place, doing those things, then perhaps it would disturb him to know that back home he had a pregnant ex-fiancé who desperately wanted to have a word with him. Or maybe not. Maybe Red had specifically run away in order to never again be confronted with a needy chick asking something of him that he could not give.
But even if he was trying to get away from her entirely, Nicole knew she had to have this conversation with him, even if it was the very last one. It was her duty to tell him she was pregnant with his baby, and then it would be up to Red whether he wanted to shirk his obligations or not.
How can I get in touch with him? She wondered.
Nobody seemed to know where he was, his work email was nonfunctional since he was no longer at the company, and she couldn’t get past the front gate of his house.
If only she knew some of his friends or family members that might have spoken with him recently, someone who might have a sense of where he’d be staying right now.
His mother was a nightmare, and Nicole doubted they’d spoken at all since he kicked her out of the house. Even if they had somehow talked since that horrible day, Nicole doubted that mean old crab would tell her anything helpful. She’d probably just take the chance to throw in a few of her vicious digs about why Nicole wasn’t worth her son’s time.
Pacing back and forth in the kitchen, chewing her bottom lip, Nicole suddenly thought of Red’s younger brother, Jeb. Jeb had been nice to her and they’d even had a pretty warm conversation the very last time she’d spoken to him.
She didn’t have his number, but she knew his name and also knew he had a family practice just outside of Chicago.
Nicole ran to her laptop and quickly did a Google search for Jeb Jameson, family practice, Chicago. A website came up that she knew had to be his. Her heart racing with excitement but also fear—if Jeb didn’t know how to reach Red than she would be at a total dead end—Nicole picked up her phone and quickly made the call before she could second-guess herself.
A moment later, a friendly sounding woman picked up. “Jameson Family Medical Group,” she said perkily.
“I need to speak with Doctor Jameson,” Nicole said, trying to steady her voice.
“Are you a patient, ma’am?”
She debated lying. But what would be the point of that? Instead, Nicole said: “I’m a friend of Dr. Jameson’s brother, Red. There’s been an emergency and I need to speak with Dr. Jameson as soon as possible.”
“Oh.” The woman sounded confused momentarily. “Can I get your name please?”
“Nicole Masters.”
“Let me go check and see if the doctor is available. Hold one moment.”
After a brief click, the muzak started up and Nicole waited, chewing on her lower lip and circling her kitchen, sometimes walking heel to toe, sometimes on her tiptoes. She was thrumming with energy, nervous, trying to allow herself some hope even though she knew this was a long shot at best.
Finally, after what felt like hours, Jeb picked up the line. “Nicole, what’s happened? Is my brother okay?”
Instantly, she felt horrible for saying it was an emergency and frightening him.
“I think so,” she said. “I don’t know for sure.”
“Tell me what’s happened.”
“Well, you know that he got fired from his company and then he sort of disappeared on everyone.”
Jeb sighed heavily into the phone. “I know. I haven’t heard from him either.”
Nicole’s heart sank. “The thing is, I really need to talk to him. It’s something very, very important that he’d want to know about. But I can’t find a way to reach him.”
“When’s the last time you spoke to him?”
“The same morning you left. He sent me away and that was it.” She tried to hold back her tears but they were about to break through. Especially now that it looked just as hopeless as ever for her to get in touch with him.
“Well, he certainly hasn’t been in contact with me. As you saw, we didn’t leave things on the best of terms.”
“I know. I’m sorry about that, Jeb.”
“Is there something I can help with, Nicole? Are you okay?”
She let out a shake exhalation. She so badly wanted to share her news with someone, and Jeb was a doctor, he’d understand. But she couldn’t tell Jeb before his brother even knew. “I’m okay. But I do need to find him. Is there anywhere he might be, anything you can think of—someone I can call?”
“Nobody I know personally. Red has always played it close to the vest. There’s no one I can think of to call that would know where Red is. You’d have been the one that came to mind, but clearly he’s treated you badly as well.”
“I just…I wonder if there’s a place that he might retreat to. Maybe somewhere away from the media,” she said. “Some people say he’s on a tropical island with a new face, drinking and fishing and living like a beach bum.” Nicole tried to laugh.
“You know, there is a place, come to think of it.”
Nicole’s face lit up. “There is?”
“I have no idea if he still even owns it, so take this for what it’s worth.”
“Anything, anything!” She cried, grabbing a pen and piece of paper. “Tell me.”
“A few years back, he took me for a weekend getaway to this tiny little ramshackle cabin out in the middle of nowhere.”
She felt the shorthairs on the back of her neck stand up as he said it—knew that this must be the place. “Where exactly was it?”
“Somewhere in Vermont. Let me think…” he hummed. “I think the town was Bristol. Bristol, Vermont.”
“If you were me, how would you find the cabin again?” she asked him. “Do you know what road its on?”
“God, it was so long ago.” He thought for a while. “It was way off the beaten track, but I do remember that there was a beautiful lake close by, and a little farm that had apple picking and that sort of thing. It was called Beaumont Farms, I believe.”
Nicole wrote everything down as fast as she could. “There can’t be too many cabins in that area, right?”
“Right.” He didn’t sound as excited as her. “Nicole, please don’t take this the wrong way.”
“I won’t,” she said, anxious now.
“Just be careful with your expectations. Like I said, I don’t even know if Red still owns that cabin. And even if he does, that’s just one place he happened to bring me years ago. He’s a very wealthy man who could just as easily have flown to Australia and be doing a walkabout right now.”
She nodded. “I know, I know.”
“If you’re lucky enough to find him, the chances are low that he’ll greet you with the kind of reception you’re hoping for. I know my brother, and if he’s trying to get away from all his pressures and disappointments—then I imagine you might be the very last person he wants to see right now.”
Nicole nodded but couldn’t bring herself to respond to his comments. They hurt. She was scared, pregnant and alone. And now one of the people who knew Red best was telling her that this was a fool’s errand.
“If you need to call me for anything,” Jeb said, “just let me know.” And then he gave her his personal cell number, once again asking her to call him for anything, at any time.
Grateful for his kindness, Nicole thanked him profusely before they got off the phone.
Once she’d hung up, Nicole studied the piece of paper with her chicken scratches on it. It looked like pure desperation; nothing on that paper would lead her to Red.
Vermont. Beaumont Farms. Cabin near a lake.
This was all she had, her only hopes of finding the man she loved, the man who’d left her, a rich man who had the ability to fly anywhere in the world on a whim. What were the chances he’d gone to this one place—this silly shack stuck out in the middle of nowhere?
Nicole decided she was going to find out.
***
Packing a small overnight bag with toiletries and some clothes
, Nicole left a brief note for Danielle saying that she was going home to her parents’ house for a day or two. This was another lie in a steadily growing list, but who was really keeping track anyway?
After leaving her apartment, Nicole went to the nearest Hertz location, and rented a red Ford Fiesta.
It was a five-hour drive to Bristol, Vermont. The day was warm and dry, the sky blue and almost cloudless. Nicole missed driving—in New York, there was little reason to have a car, and flying down the road at her own speed made her feel a little more in control.
She kept her windows down, put some cheesy pop music on, and sang along with the songs—even the ones she hardly knew.
It was important to get to Vermont as early in the day as possible, so Nicole stopped only once at a rest stop, where she got a couple of cheeseburgers from McDonalds and went to the bathroom.
Finally, she was just a few miles outside of Bristol. The landscape had changed to one that was very familiar to her from her childhood in upstate New York. She was used to seeing long stretches of farmland, trees, barns and tiny houses, pickup trucks parked in the driveways.
Once she entered Bristol, Nicole felt a pang in her chest. It was a beautiful little town, like something from a Norman Rockwell painting.
The first thing she thought when she drove down quaint little Main Street with its Cup a Joe café, and Danny’s Barber Shop with the spinning pole out front:
This would be a wonderful place to start a family.
And then the tears were in her eyes and Nicole let them stream down her cheeks. She was being silly again, but her hormones were probably going crazy after all.
She pulled into the tiny little two-pump gas station and a girl that looked around seventeen or eighteen with strawberry-blond hair, jeans and a halter top, came over to the car. “Hi,” she said to Nicole with a simple smile.
Nicole noticed the girl had one of those tribal tattoos on her left bicep.
“Hi. Could you fill up the tank with regular, please?”
“Sure.” The girl started the pump and then stood beside it, whistling an unrecognizable tune, until the tank was full. She put the nozzle back in the pump and came over to the window. “That’ll be twenty two, thirty.”