Except I was doing calculations in my head and had to admit, if only to myself, that it was at the very least plausible. I had missed my last period and hadn’t even noticed. We both looked at each other in silence for a few more minutes before I felt panic creeping in.
“I think I need to go home,” I said, my voice full of anxiety. Char nodded once.
“Okay,” she said in a very agreeable tone of voice. She ditched the empty cart and put her arm around my shoulders, leading me to the store exit. “Okay, let’s go.”
She drove me home, but stopped about a block down the street. She didn’t say anything, just left the car running while she ran inside the drugstore. A few minutes later, she came back out with a bag clutched in her hand, then continued driving me home. When we got there, Jane was elbow deep in cleaning supplies. It was our “scrub down the apartment day” and she had promised she would wait until I came home to help, but Jane was not the type of person to sit around idly when there was something to be done.
“I know I said I’d wait, but….” She turned to us with a smile that was wiped off her face as soon as she got a look at me. Charlotte stepped in behind me patting my shoulder comfortably and leading me to the couch. “What happened?”
“Nothing.” I said, my voice sounding oddly far away to my own ears. I sat on the couch and tried to laugh. “I mean, we were joking around, and I think I freaked myself out.”
“About what?” Jane looked confused.
“She might be pregnant.” Charlotte said bluntly. Jane’s eyes widened, and I found myself reacting to the words as if the idea was just as fresh for me.
“I’m not.” I shook my head, looking from one to the other as if they could help me. “I can’t be.”
Jane sat down on the couch next to me, putting an arm around my shoulder. “Well,” she said hesitantly, “have you had sex recently?”
“Yes,” I said miserably.
“Did you miss your period?” she asked.
“Yes,” I repeated with even more gloom.
“Then, you could be,” my sister said gently. I felt tears stinging my eyes.
“I can’t be,” I argued stupidly. “Jane, I don’t want to be pregnant.”
“Well, look, maybe you aren’t,” Charlotte said with a bit of optimism. She pulled a box out of the bag she had been clutching. “We can find out in…three minutes.”
I stared at the home pregnancy kit like it might grow legs and attack me. Since I wouldn’t take it, Charlotte began opening it up and reading the instructions. Soon, I found myself alone in the bathroom.
“Come out when you’re done.” Jane said on the other side of the door. “We’ll wait together.”
Numbly, I followed their instructions. After I came out of the bathroom, Jane set the timer on the stove for three minutes, then she and Charlotte began trying to distract me with idle talk about absolutely nothing important.
Neither mentioned men, even Charlie or Richard; they also managed to steer clear of work discussion, I guess because they were pretty sure the guy I was sleeping with also worked with us. They needn’t have bothered, I didn’t hear a word they said; all I could think about was what I was supposed to do if I turned out to be pregnant.
Three minutes later, the timer went off. It was the longest three minutes of my life.
I didn’t move, so Jane went into the bathroom for me. When she came out, I could tell what the answer was by the look on her face. I immediately started bawling.
Charlotte stayed for a long time, but eventually she had to leave. I made her swear not to breathe a word of this to Richard.
“Of course I won’t,” she said with unusual softness in her voice. “Call me anytime, okay?”
“You won’t tell Charlie, will you?” I asked Jane after Charlotte had left. “You know he won’t be able to keep it from Darcy, and…” I stalled for a reason I wouldn’t want Darcy to know but she was already rubbing my back.
“I won’t tell Charlie,” she soothed me. “Lizzy, I know this wasn’t planned,” she began cautiously, “But, it’s not exactly the end of the world.”
“It is,” I began crying once more. I don’t think I had ever cried more in one night. “Jane, we’re not even really dating, and now I’ve just ruined both of our lives,”
“Lizzy, ruined?” she admonished lightly.
“It’s true.” I took a shuddering breath. Finally, I broke down and told her, so she could see how terrible of situation I was in. “It’s Will Darcy, okay?”
Predictably, she looked shocked.
“You think Darcy is the kind of man who wants to knock up some girl who works for him?” I said fiercely. “His reputation will be damaged and his family will probably all think I was just after his money.”
“I thought his sister and Richard was his only family,” Jane argued. “Richard, at least, knows you.”
“He has aunts and uncles. He’s old money; there are always relatives around to look down on penniless hussies who get pregnant and say he’s the father,” I said despondently.
“Lizzy,” she was admonishing me again. “That’s enough. Besides, Will is not that kind of man. He will protect you, he’ll do the right thing,”
“I know,” I said putting my head in my hands and bursting into tears once more. “That makes it worse.” Poor Jane looked like she had just been dropped in the middle of a warzone and had no way of telling what the right thing to do was, or which step would be made in error.
Still, she stayed with me for the rest of the weekend. When I told her I was too sick to go in Monday morning she called Judy and told her neither of us would be in that day. When Charlie found out and checked in to see that we were okay, she even sent him away at the door without really telling him why, other than I needed her and she couldn’t leave me.
Around ten o’clock Monday night, I was lying in bed pretending to sleep when I heard Darcy try to force his way in.
“Is Elizabeth here?” he asked.
“She’s not feeling well,” I heard Jane say hesitantly. There was a silence before I heard Darcy sigh.
“She told you about us,” he finally said with no question in his voice.
I had no idea how he could tell, but I suspected it might have something to do with her not being surprised to see our boss knocking on our door late at night inquiring after my sudden absence. I didn’t hear Jane answer, but she must have given him an indication that he was correct.
“I know something is wrong,” he said, his voice a mixture of determination and concern. “She won’t answer my calls or texts. If I did something…”
“You didn’t… It’s not your fault.” I heard Jane say, and I winced. “She just doesn’t want to see anyone right now. I’m sorry, Will.”
“We can’t work this out if she refuses to speak to me,” he said, with more frustration in his voice than anything. “Tell her I need to talk to her. I deserve to know what happened, what I did.”
“I’ll tell her you came by,” Jane said gently, but firmly. I knew she was leading him out.
∞∞∞
It was Tuesday before I finally got up the courage to talk to him. I knew I was on a slippery slope, that the longer I waited, the harder it would be to tell him, and the easier it would be to never tell him.
“Whatever you decide,” Jane told me that morning with uncharacteristic inflexibility, “he deserves to know.”
That night, I told her go see Charlie. I figured even a secure man would be worried about being completely cut off from his girlfriend for so many days, and that she needed to reassure him that everything was fine between them.
“Darcy said he would come by so we can talk,” I said. She looked surprised at this revelation, but I hurried on. “If you want to tell Charlie what all this has been about, that’s fine with me. He’s going to be my brother soon, after all,”
“We’re dating, not getting married,” Jane replied with a blush and a barely concealed smile.
“Yet.” I
teased, then sobered. “Seriously, Jane. Thanks for all this.”
“You’re my sister,” Jane hugged me fiercely, and I felt tears stinging my eyes again. “I will always be here for you, no matter what.”
“I know,” I sniffed. “Thanks, Janey.”
She left and I sat on the couch, my stomach twisting in knots. With surprise I wondered if maybe it wasn’t from nerves, but then I realized it was still too early on to feel any real symptoms. Still, I laid my hand on my stomach, and felt something other than panic at the thought that there might be a baby inside of me.
It wasn’t long before Darcy knocked. I let him in wordlessly, then led him to the couch. Now that he was here, of course, I had no idea what to say. My arms were crossed defensively across my chest; should I just blurt it out? Ease into it? How was I supposed to ease into it?
He looked me over for a minute, then clutched his hands together.
“Elizabeth,” he started, which threw me off even more. “I know something has been bothering you this past week or so, and I know you’ve been avoiding me. I think after all this time I at least deserve the chance to defend myself against… whatever it is I’ve done.” He paused, but I had no idea how to counter that speech without telling him, so he went on. “I know I was a bit aggressive when you were supposed to have dinner with George.”
“It’s not that,” I shook my head dismissively. “That didn’t bother me.”
He eyed me, trying to work out, I suppose, if I was being truthful. “Well, I know I didn’t ask you to accompany me to the Gala last week….”
“Gala?” I echoed, and then shook my head again.
Did he really think I would get this upset because he hadn’t asked me out to go with him to some fancy high-society party with him? Unfortunately, this just depressed me more. I was about to have a baby with a man who barely knew me.
“Darcy, you didn’t… It’s nothing like that.” I see now why Jane hesitated in the same manner I just did. He did knock me up, after all, managing to do so even as I was on the pill.
“I did do something, though,” he said quietly.
I shook my head again. I realized now that he had probably been trying figure out this whole time what had set me off running, and I felt, if it were possible, even worse.
“Don’t,” he sucked in a bit of air, wiping an escaped tear away from my cheek. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I did, but I would never intentionally hurt you…”
“I’m pregnant,” I finally blurted out, perhaps a bit harshly.
I just couldn’t hear his apologies for doing nothing wrong one second longer. He was shocked, I could tell. I pulled the stick out of my pocket and laid it on the coffee table face up, so he could see the two pink dashes.
“I’m sorry, Will.” I felt the tears well up again, but after a stunned moment he put an arm around me and pulled me close, still in a bit of a daze. That, of course, set off even more tears and I spent a good portion of time crying into his shoulder and telling him how sorry I was.
“Stop apologizing,” he said when I finally got a hold of myself and pulled back slightly. He handed me, of all things, a dark blue handkerchief. “Lizzy, you did not get pregnant on your own.”
“I know but… Will, our lives will never be the same now.” I said miserably. “Whatever happens.”
“Lizzy, whatever happens, I will take care of you and the baby,” he said seriously.
“I know,” I said, a few more tears leaking out. “But a year from now there might be a baby Darcy in the world and I know how important family is to you. Did you really think your first born was going to come into the world like this? To an unwed girl who works on the third floor of your company?” I didn’t give him a chance to answer before adding, “I’ve ruined your life.”
“You have not,” he said firmly, frowning at me. “I will love our child, no matter what the circumstances are.”
Of course, that set me off again, but he just pulled me back into his embrace and ran his hand soothingly up and down my back.
“Lizzy, please don’t get so upset,” he pleaded softly.
“I’m sorry,” I said, gaining control of my tears once more. “Look, my parents got married because my mom was pregnant with Jane,” I said, wiping my eyes with the handkerchief he had slipped into my hands. “I guess they had some good years, because four more of us came along. But…”
I bit my lip, looking down. “Eventually they grew apart, and I know they both regretted getting married. I don’t think they meant to, but they both let us know in their own way how much better their lives would have been if they hadn’t felt like they had to be together because they had a baby.”
“Lizzy,” he looked a bit stricken. “Just because it didn’t work out with your parents, doesn’t mean—”
“I know,” I whispered. “But if we have this baby, we’re going to be connected for their rest for our lives, whether we’re together or not. I never wanted to be responsible for screwing up some guy’s whole existence like that.”
“Stop saying that,” he said, almost angrily. “You didn’t ruin my life, you didn’t get yourself pregnant, and this baby,” he made an effort to soften his voice. “This baby doesn’t have to be the affliction that you think it will be.” I sat quiet for a minute, processing. Eventually, he said, “Forget the future for now. Let’s talk about the next step. Do you want to have this baby?”
I swallowed, even though I had asked myself that question an innumerable amount of times over the past few days. “I don’t think I could get an abortion,” I finally said.
“Adoption?” he prompted next. I immediately shook my head.
“Whether you had him, or strangers did, I could never live knowing my baby was out in the world without me somewhere.” I hugged my stomach.
“Him?” Darcy questioned with a ghost of a smile. I shrugged, and then leaned my head on his shoulder.
“So,” I sighed. “Now what?”
Darcy told me he was going to make an appointment to see a doctor and get an official diagnosis. If I had been presented with this scenario before now, I would have said it would bother me that he was taking charge and making plans, but as it was, I was still frozen in panic mode and it felt good to have someone else making the decisions.
The next morning we got work that, because of my age, medical history, and the fact that I’d received a positive home pregnancy test, my doctor suggested I waited until I was between eight and ten weeks along before coming in. Of course, if I experienced any negative effects, they told me to either call them immediately or go to the ER, depending on what I had happen.
Darcy insisted on coming to the appointment with me when the time came. I agreed. He also insisted on coming over to my place every night to cook me dinner after work, but not before telling me he wouldn’t take it personally if I told him I needed my space at any time. As it was, I liked the distraction of him being there, and I agreed to this as well. Jane had disappeared to Charlie’s to give us, I think, space to talk and process.
“Are you really not mad at me for getting pregnant?” I finally asked the second night he’d come over. We were sitting on the couch, because my place was too small for a real dining room table. He turned to me with surprise on his face.
“No, Elizabeth. I’m really not mad at you. How could I be?” He asked.
“Well, you trusted me to be taking my birth control.” I pointed out.
“And I still trust you,” he said seriously. Then, an ironic smile tugged at his lips. “No one who reacted the way you did could have been trying to get pregnant.”
I kind of winced. “Are you mad that I got so upset?”
“No,” he said, reaching over to caress my knee briefly. “I understand. You weren’t ready.”
I didn’t say anything, and he took his hand back and continued eating. Soon, I put my plate down, ignoring his look of disapproval at my barely half-eaten dinner. I took his hand.
“You’re a good man, Will,
” I said. His expression slipped to a surprised sort of pleasure. “If this was going to happen, I’m glad it was with you.”
I saw a bit of tension leave his body, and he put his own plate down, then switched my grip to his other hand and slid an arm around me. He brought our entwined hands up to his lips, kissing my knuckles softly.
“Thank you, Elizabeth.”
Despite the harmony between us, and how gentle we were being with each other since I told him the news, we fought that weekend. He brought up the idea of getting married, and when I flatly refused, amended it to moving in together.
When I wouldn’t even discuss the idea, his stubbornness began battling mine, and in his attempt to persuade me, or possibly at that point to win the argument, he brought up how much better of an environment he could provide for us than my small apartment in the middle of a questionable neighborhood. Of course, I took this to mean he thought I couldn’t or wouldn’t be able to provide well enough for our child on my own, and reacted as such.
We had fought since the day we met, but of course this fight was the worst. We were more intimate, we knew more personal buttons to push and we were both in a vulnerable place because we cared about the other and were already committed to the baby, but weren’t ready for such a leap forward in our relationship. At least, I wasn’t and I knew he wouldn’t be bringing up marriage and living together if it weren’t for the fact that I was pregnant.
Personally, it had taken us sleeping together three times before I would even admit I was attracted to him; being pregnant with his child when we hadn’t even really dated was too much too soon.
He eventually left, though he had stuck it out for quite a while before doing so. I ignored his call and the few texts he sent the next day, more out of exhaustion and fear of making things even worse than hurt or anger over the fight.
The day after that, I showed up on his doorstep.
“Hey,” he said with a bit of relief in his voice. He ushered me in, asking if I were hungry, or thirsty.
“Will,” I hesitated. He tensed slightly at my serious but gentle tone and use of his first name. “I’m… not pregnant anymore. I got my period yesterday.”
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