by J. Bengtsson
Although I really didn’t want her help, I also wasn’t in a position to refuse. Hollywood was all about who you knew, and prior to Emma, I knew no one. Besides, if this were her way of making amends, I guessed I could accept with gratitude. This, I’d already decided, would be my final stand. If I couldn’t break into the business now, with all the power and connections behind me, I never would. These next few months would hold the key to my future and hopefully give me the clarity I needed to move forward in both my career and life.
When all was said and done, Emma had changed me for the better, and despite the heartbreak, I wouldn’t change our time together for anything. And even though moving on was proving more difficult than I’d ever imagined, at least I now knew what to look for in a companion. For the first time in my life, a woman had put me first, and I’d never forget that.
21
Emma, Present Day: Two Percent Chance
“Well, hey there, J-Lo. I almost didn’t recognize you with that hair. You went the brown with highlights route… okay… I can dig it,” Frannie said, pulling up a seat opposite me in the cafeteria.
“I just needed a change,” I confessed to my friend.
My words were slow and methodical. Since Finn’s midnight visit a few weeks ago, I’d felt crushed by the weight of the decision I’d been forced to make. We clearly loved each other, and the reasons for keeping him away seemed harsh even for my standards. Wanting something I couldn’t have was nothing new for me, but leaving someone I clearly loved was a whole new ballgame. I started rethinking my marriage and child ban. Would it really be so terrible? Maybe I could have all those things if it meant Finn staying in my life. And clearly being with me was something he still wanted, if his early morning confession had any meaning behind it at all.
“What happened to ‘blondes have more fun’?”
“Yeah, they don’t, trust me.”
“Well, I like it. You look pretty however you wear your hair. Besides, this is a new start, right?” she said, in a fabricated cheerful tone. Frannie was never jovial, so I knew what it took for her to fake it for me.
“I love you, Francesca. Have I ever told you that? You’re the only person in this place who gives a shit about me.”
My friend shifted in her chair with a worried expression on her face, before leaning in and whispering, “You’re not suicidal, are you?”
“No, I don’t have to be hopeless in order to like you, Frannie. Maybe if you showed your warm side more often, you wouldn’t have people scurrying away in terror every time you cut across a room.”
“Well, what would be the fun in that?” She smirked. “Anyway, this conversation is not about me and my lack of social skills. It’s about you and the whole yawn-fest you’ve got going on over here. I mean it’s not that you’ve ever been high speed Internet but, honey, you’ve been downgraded to a 2G connection.”
“I know. I think I’m just depressed,” I moped, laying my head on the table.
“Is this about the studly stuntman? Not exactly sure why you broke up with that piece of meat in the first place, but I’m guessing it’s none of my business, right?”
I nodded emphatically. Another reason I loved her. She knew her boundaries.
“Well, look on the bright side – there’s always Dr. Schlong.”
A slow laugh escaped me, which quickly turned into a case of hysterics. It wasn’t even funny, but I was so out of whack lately that I couldn’t control my emotions. Francesca sat there with a confused smile on her face until I’d finally completed my unusual burst of enjoyment.
“Are you on something?” she said, cupping her hand over one side of her mouth, to prevent the people next to us from hearing.
“No. What, I can’t laugh without you thinking I’m on opiates?”
“I’m not really sure what’s wrong with you, but I’ll tell you one thing, if you don’t stop this giggle shit, I’ll be forced to trade you in for a less enthusiastic model… someone like Barb, the front desk volunteer. Now there’s a miserable shrew.”
“Nooo,” I continued laughing. “Not Barb. I’ll do better. I promise.”
My lunch over, I said my goodbyes to Francesca and stood to leave. An unexpectedly sharp pain shot up the back of my leg and into my left butt cheek. I inhaled audibly.
“What’s wrong?”
“Sciatic nerve. I’ve been having all kinds of issues with it lately.”
Francesca’s mouth dropped open and she grabbed my wrist, pulling me back in my seat. Confused, I glared at her. If she was going to get all touchy-feely with me, I’d have to rethink that love I’d just offered her.
“Could you be pregnant?” She asked.
“What?” The question was so stupid I didn’t want to give it a bit of leverage. “No. Why would you say that?”
“My sister had really bad sciatica pain during all three of her pregnancies. It happens when the hips widen. Add that to your fatigue and all that emotional weirdness…” she said, flicking her hand over me in distaste. “I don’t know, Emma, maybe you should take a pregnancy test.”
“No, it’s impossible,” I said shaking my head. I was so not pregnant. We’d used protection every single time.
“The only way it’s impossible would be if you were a good little virgin,” Frannie explained, and then in a childlike voice, she added, “Have you been a good little virgin, Emma?”
I sank back in my chair, my mouth still hanging open as I shook my head back and forth.
“Exactly. I didn’t think so.”
Frannie and I hurried to the supply closet and I snuck a pregnancy strip and a plastic cup off the shelf before disappearing into the bathroom. Francesca pushed her way in before the door shut all the way.
“No, Frannie, it’s okay, you don’t need to.”
The last thing I wanted was her blabbing my business to the entire hospital.
“I’m not leaving you here by yourself.” And as if she could read my mind, added, “I would never do that to you, and you know it.”
Suddenly I felt bad for thinking the worst of her. She’d always been nothing but a friend to me.
“I know,” I said, then grasped her wrist in fear.
We exchanged a knowing glance before she handed me the cup and said, “Now pee.”
The five-minute wait was agonizing. Frannie leaned against the basin studying her shoes as I sat on the closed toilet seat, gripping my newly colored hair. Jesus, wasn’t that bad for a baby? And the glass of wine I had last night… and the night before. That was definitely bad for a baby. But I was almost sure it would come up negative. I had no signs. No weight gain. No morning sickness… although Finn’s little puke parade the last time I’d seen him had turned me all shades of green. And besides that, after the festival weekend with him, I’d immediately gone on birth control pills. Oh, god, if a baby managed to get through all that protection, its little head would surely be whacked after all the crap I’d been feeding it.
The timer went off on Francesca’s phone.
“You ready?”
There was no excitement or encouragement in her words. Instead she adopted a professional tone, free of judgment. I closed my eyes as Frannie checked the results. It would be negative. There was no way. No way at all. But when she didn’t say anything after several seconds, I knew. The sob that I’d been holding back broke free. Francesca knelt beside me rubbing my back, repeating “Breathe” over and over.
“I don’t, I don’t… what am I going to do? I can’t be a mother. I can’t.”
“And you don’t have to be, Emma. You have options.”
Yes. Options. I had options. But the moment Finn’s face formed in my mind, I knew I didn’t have options. I could never, would never do that to him.
“No. Finn… it’s his child too. Never.”
“Then have the baby.”
“I don’t want to be a mother,” I said, snarling out the words. “Have you not been listening for the past four years?”
Thankfully
, Frannie took no offense.
“Let me finish,” she said, calmly. “Have the baby. Give it to Finn. Problem solved.”
I blinked back my shock and wiped away the tears.
“Yes. Okay. That would work. I could do that.”
“See? Everything will be fine. You’re in shock right now. Just give yourself a chance to process. Do you want to see the stick?”
Frannie held up the test with a very clear pregnancy confirmation. And that seemed to do the trick. The shock subsided as reality kicked in. This was happening, whether I wanted it or not. Every fear I’d ever had… every relationship I’d fought so hard to avoid and every excuse I’d given for not wanting to be a mother was all for naught because that baby I vehemently professed I didn’t want, the one I’d given up an amazing guy to avoid having, was now growing inside my belly.
“I need to go to labor and delivery,” I said, standing up and smoothing down my wild hair.
“I think you have time, Emma – at least a few more months.”
Was she trying to be funny? I glared at Frannie.
“Okay, yeah, that was not appropriate, was it? Sorry, I’m rusty with random acts of sympathy. I’m trying.”
I knew she was. I softened my tone as I cleared my throat, and said with as much control as I could muster, “I know you are. You’ve been a great friend. Now go back to work. I’ve got it from here.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I wish I knew.”
Once Francesca left, I took a few moments to pull myself together before exiting the bathroom and walking down the sterile hallways in a daze. The moment I entered the ward, I could hear babies crying, and panic gripped me. I used the walls to steady myself as I searched for Dr. Kapoor. She was new to the hospital, but I’d seen her with one of my patients a few months before, explaining to a car accident victim that her baby hadn’t survived. The compassion I’d seen in her eyes as she comforted the woman had stuck with me. I needed a little of that empathy right about now.
“Dr. Kapoor? My name is Emma McKallister. I’m a nurse in the ICU.”
“Yes, I remember you. Although your hair is…”
“I know. Horrible. It was a mistake,” I said, attempting to explain away something so insignificant as colored strands when I had another, more gigantic issue to address. But when that all-important moment arrived, and it came time to ’fess up, the words would not form as I dissolved into a puddle of tears. Dr. Kapoor led me into an empty room and sat me in a chair. She pulled one up herself and waited, laying a hand gently on my knee. Once I’d pulled myself together enough to speak, I told her about the positive pregnancy test, the condoms, the birth control pills, the wine, and all the other things I’d done to ruin this baby before it was even born. “And not only that, but I colored my hair… I mean, what kind of monster am I? This baby isn’t even born yet, and I’m already the world’s shittiest mom.”
Dr. Kapoor allowed me one more shortened cry before she put an end to the waterworks. “First, pregnancy happens even with 100% compliance to birth control methods. Nothing is ever foolproof. As a nurse, you should know that. And second, you haven’t ruined your baby. Plenty of mothers engage in the activities you’ve described before knowing they were pregnant. You haven’t sentenced your baby to a fiery hell. They’re a lot tougher than you think.”
“Yeah, well, this one’s a goddamn superhero if he managed to get through all those layers of protection.”
She laughed, but I wasn’t joking. Leave it to Finn to impregnate me with a near statistically impossible baby!
“I tell you what – why don’t we go into another room and do a quick ultrasound? Maybe that will ease your mind and give you some answers.”
This was good… a plan. I liked plans so very much.
“Okay,” I sniffled. “Are you sure you’re not too busy?”
“I’ve got a fussy womb in room four. It’s moving slower than a teenager crossing the street,” she said, chuckling to herself.
I guess even doctors who stuck their hands up vaginas all day could find humor in their profession. More power to them. A few minutes later, the doctor was rolling a goopy ball over my lower abdomen, and I was hit with a shot of remorse. Finn should have been here for this… the first look at his baby. He would have loved this. Picturing his face, I frowned. What was I going to do about Finn?
“There. Do you see the heart beating?”
Oh, yes, I saw it. My eyes could not have been wider or clearer if they tried. A contented ache attached itself to my own rapidly beating heart. I listened as the doctor described to me all I was seeing, and waited as she measured its little head and limbs. I could not tear my eyes away from the screen. Slowly the realization of what I was seeing registered in my shocked brain. That fluttery heartbeat belonged to me… to Finn. It was then I knew I would love this baby until the day I died. And, just as my mother had done before me, I would protect his or her tiny life with everything I had in me. Suddenly I couldn’t remember why I’d ever wanted to deprive myself of something as beautiful as a child. A smile so wide and so genuine transformed my weepy, frightened face. The tiny life growing inside me was more than I deserved, but all I never knew I wanted.
In no emotional shape to resume my shift, I let the charge nurse know I wasn’t feeling well and went home. I didn’t even remember making the drive or opening the front door or snuggling with Cynthia until I passed out on my bed. But I did remember the nightmare.
He was so beautiful, a tow-headed toddler with hair that bounced as he ran. I chased after him, laughing. Finn was there with us, the proud smile on his face telling me he was here for us, always. I never knew I could feel so alive and happy. Cradling my son in my arms, I kissed that perfect face. He was a gift, a beautiful perfect gift. Finn and I watched as he fell asleep in my arms. Quietly, I transferred him to his crib and watched the little body tense as a groggy cry escaped those rosy lips. Gently I ran my finger back and forth from his forehead to his nose to soothe him back to sleep. Those sweet eyes fluttered shut once more and I leaned down to kiss him.
“I’ll see you when you wake up, angel baby,” I cooed. Warmth and love, that’s what this was. My little family.
I’d fallen asleep myself, exhausted but blissful. Just a quick nap for Mommy. I awakened with a start and checked the clock. Too much time had passed. Was he still napping? Why hadn’t he cried for me? A crippling terror gripped me as I ran to his room. The crib was empty. Finn! I screamed. ‘Where is he? Where’s my baby?’
Jolting upright, gasping for air, sobs wracked my body. This was why I couldn’t be a mother and a wife. This was why.
“Answer your phone, Keith,” I begged, my hand shaking miserably. Why was it when I really needed him, Keith was never around – but when I wanted him to leave, I could never get rid of him? After several more phone calls went unanswered, I gave up and dialed another number.
“Hello?”
“Jake? It’s me, Emma.”
“I know,” he chuckled. “What’s up?”
“Oh, well, I…” my voice broke. Man, I was really trying to control it, but there was no suppressing the emotions this baby was tugging out of me.
“Are you okay?” There was immediate concern in his tone. Bless him. Jake cared. Not like that weasel Keith.
“I tried to call Keith, and he wouldn’t pick up… four times, Jake, four times I called him,” I wept into the phone. “I mean, he doesn’t do shit. Why can’t he pick up the damn phone? And so I called you… not that you’re a second choice, but I need… I need… I don’t know what I need.”
“Where are you?”
“At home.”
“Okay, I’m coming.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to bother you if you’re busy,” I sniffled pathetically. Actually, I really did want to bother him, and he only lived twenty miles away.
“I’m sure. I’m leaving now. I’ll be there in an hour.”
This was LA, after all.
By the time Jake arrived, I’d calmed down. He’d slipped in wearing a baseball hat and hoodie but promptly removed it all the minute he stepped inside.
“Is that get-up because you’re going incognito or because you’re afraid to catch something in these parts?” I asked.
“Definitely the latter. I read somewhere that chlamydia was now airborne over the Valley.”
“Oh, ha ha, because of the porn industry. Good one,” I replied sarcastically.
“It’s nice to see you back to your grumpy old self. Did I just rush over here for nothing?”
“That was rushing?” I teased. “It took you well over an hour.”
“Not for lack of effort. Is it my fault your emotional breakdown happened during rush hour? You better have a good reason for making me drive all the way over here in bumper-to-bumper traffic.”
“Trust me, you’ll be duly rewarded for your effort. I’m pregnant.”
Jake’s head snapped to attention. Yep, you heard me right. I ripped that Band-Aid clean off. My brother didn’t react exactly as I’d hoped. Instead, his lip curled up and he laughed. I waited, arms hugging into myself, and grimaced at his idea of funny.
“Wait, are you serious?” he asked, after getting an extended look at my somber face.
“I’ve never been much of a joker.”
Jake finally closed his wide-open mouth and said, “I just… I never… Sorry. That’s not funny at all, is it? Are you all right?”
“Um,” I bit my lip as the stuttering breaths opened the way for more uncontrolled sobbing. I was really starting to hate this new me. “Not really.”
Jake swathed me in his warm embrace, and I sank into him with no shame. I’d offered him enough support over my lifetime. Now it was his turn to give back.