Unplanned

by Sarah Biglow

  “I am, too.”

  “I know I should be thinking positively, but—”

  “It’s been so rocky to this point, you can’t help but assume it’s going to fail,” Lisbeth finished.

  “Exactly.”

  They sat in silence a moment, and Lisbeth watched the musicians at a distance.

  “Come on, let’s head back,” Candace said, tugging on Lisbeth’s arm.

  “Not just yet. I want to listen awhile.”

  They settled on a bench with the band in sight now. The trumpet player waved to the crowd before counting off a four count. The band plunged headlong into an improv number. Lisbeth tapped along to the beat for a while before her head began to droop.

  “It’s time to get back.”

  Lisbeth didn’t argue. They walked back up the Common and across the street. A few minutes later, the elevator deposited them on the seventh floor.

  “I hate that the meds make me so tired.” Lisbeth yawned.

  “Only a few more days.”

  “If all goes well, we’ll never sleep again.” Lisbeth attempted to sound positive.

  “Don’t say that.” Candace batted Lisbeth’s shoulder.

  Back in the coolness of their apartment, Lisbeth made a beeline to their bedroom and stripped off her sweat-soaked shorts and T-shirt, exchanging them for night clothes.

  “You coming to bed?”

  “In a little while,” Candace answered.

  “You know where to find me.”

  Lisbeth lay atop the covers for a while, letting the air cool her skin. The next thing she knew, the bed shifted beside her, and Candace appeared.

  “What time is it?” Lisbeth slurred.

  “Around ten.”

  Lisbeth burrowed beneath the layer of blanket and sheet, snuggling against Candace’s shoulder.

  “What time are we supposed to get the call tomorrow?” Lisbeth asked.

  “Around two or three. Don’t worry about it. You’ll drive yourself nuts.”

  “Good thing I’ve got a masseuse.”

  “Physical therapist. There’s a difference.”

  “I know that. You still give the best massages in the whole city.”

  Lisbeth rolled onto her side and felt Candace’s hands move over her neck and shoulders. She sighed as the muscles began to relax. The less tense her shoulders became, the more painful her lower back ached. She pulled away.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “The site hurts is all.”

  One of Candace’s hands dislodged from Lisbeth’s shoulder and moved to her lower back. The tips of Candace’s fingers moved over the sore spot.

  “Yeah, right there.”

  “I can put some ice on it, if you want. It might help.”

  “Yeah. That might be good.”

  Their lips touched, and Candace climbed out of bed, returning moments later with an icepack. Lisbeth pressed it against the ache in her lower back and side. She hoped the pain was nerves and not something related to the procedure. They curled side by side until Lisbeth drifted to sleep. The cold on her back eased the discomfort, but she woke with her nightshirt wet.

  “Damn,” she mumbled, still half asleep.

  She pulled the wet cloth from beneath her to reveal a big damp patch on the sheet. Disoriented, Lisbeth fumbled her way to the kitchen. Tossing the cloth in the sink, she stumbled back to her room for a dry shirt. Lisbeth saw a dim reflection of herself in the mirror as she stripped the other material from her body.

  Running her hands over the muscles of her smooth, taut belly, she shivered. If they were lucky this time, her body would be in for a change. She glanced over her shoulder at Candace’s sleeping form, but instead of climbing back into bed, Lisbeth grabbed a blanket from the linen closet and headed for the couch.

  “SWEETIE, ARE YOU OKAY?” CANDACE’S VOICE SOUNDED miles away as Lisbeth awoke.

  “You’re out on the couch,” Candace said.

  Lisbeth sat up and rubbed at her face.

  “I know that. I didn’t sleepwalk out here.”

  “Then what are you doing out here?”

  “The ice melted, and the sheet got wet.”

  “Oh.”

  Lisbeth ran a hand through Candace’s hair, so silky and different from her own. Candace sat down beside her and squeezed her hand.

  “Now, you’re absolutely sure you don’t want me here with you?”

  “I’m sure, Mom.”

  “Because I can do a half day.”

  “You have people to see. Besides, one of us needs to work if we have any hope of paying the bills. Even if this doesn’t work.”

  Candace held up her hands up in defeat. “Okay, you win. And try to stay positive.”

  Lisbeth threw aside the blanket and stood up. She wandered into the kitchen and set the coffee to percolate.

  “You aren’t supposed to have coffee,” Candace reminded her.

  “And you’re unbearable without your daily dose.”

  They moved around each other as if they’d been doing it all their lives. Arms and hands crossed without a falter. The toaster popped, sending a bagel flying across the room before Candace caught it. She set it on the table with a glass of juice. Lisbeth joined her with a plate of eggs, bacon, and a cup of coffee. They swapped seats and enjoyed a quiet breakfast together.

  “How many patients do you have today?” Lisbeth asked around a bite of bagel.

  “I think four. And maybe a few referrals when I get in.”

  “Sounds good. I might go for a walk down by the Common. Read a book in the shade for a bit to get out.”

  “Sounds like a good plan. Getting some fresh air is never a bad thing.”

  Candace downed her coffee and set the dishes in the sink. She grabbed a briefcase from a nearby chair and kissed Lisbeth goodbye.

  “I’ll see you tonight.”

  “Do you want me to call when I hear?”

  “Surprise me when I get home.”

  “Your self-control is overwhelming.”

  “Have a good day.”

  With that, she left Lisbeth to finish her bagel and juice. Lisbeth sat at the table, listening to the quiet of the apartment. She looked at the DVR clock—six hours at least before she got any news. Plenty of time to do a few loads of laundry and get out for some exercise. No going stir crazy with anticipation. She finished her meal and did the dishes, setting them out to dry. Stretching her arms behind her back, she went in search of a book. She walked past the second bedroom and stopped.

  It was mostly empty, save an antique rocking chair by the window. She walked in and sat in the chair, tucking her legs beneath her. Lisbeth leaned back and let the gentle rocking soothe her nerves. She could picture the items that would fill the room if they were successful.

  Subconsciously, her hands drifted to her lap. She’d waited so long for this. Sure, there were other options open to them, but it wouldn’t be the same. As the possibilities filled her thoughts and images danced in her head, sadness invaded her heart, constricting her lungs. She fought for breath until the feeling passed.

  “Get up and do something, Lissie.”

  A moment later, she dragged herself to her feet and continued her search for a book. She finally found one with a bookmark a third of the way through sitting on Candace’s nightstand.

  Down on the Common, she found a shady place to sit. The Starbucks across the street called to her. It begged her to go in and get a venti-iced coffee. Lisbeth shook her head and turned her back. No coffee today. She tried to focus on the book, but the people around her were distracting. An older couple wandered out of the outbound Boylston stop and toward the grass. A couple of college-age kids loitered just outside the inbound stop. She loved Boston, being right in the thick of it. She could be herself in the city.

  A half hour later, she got to her feet, legs stiff from sitting cross-legged for too long, and headed back inside. She relished the cold air as she made a frozen meal. Candace would have scolded her for all the processed
fats, but she wanted the little bit of comfort the junk food afforded her. Tossing the fork in the sink and the carton in the trash, Lisbeth gathered up a load of dirty clothes and headed down the hall to the laundry room. She got there just as one of the other tenants moved his load to the dryer.

  “Washer’s all yours,” he said as she dumped her clothes on top of the machine.

  “Thanks.”

  By the time she got back from swapping the load into the dryer, her phone buzzed. It skidded along the coffee table toward the edge before she caught it. Her fingers fumbled as she tried to answer the call. Her nerves were back in full force. Finally, on the sixth ring, she managed to hit talk.

  “Hello?”

  “Miss Marquez?”

  “Yes.”

  “This is Maureen from New England Medical.”

  “Hi.” Lisbeth immediately began to pace.

  “We have your results.”

  “And? What do they say? Did it work?” Her heart thumped against her ribs as an inkling of hope bubbled to the surface.

  “You’re pregnant.”

  Lisbeth let out a whoop of excitement. “Thank you, so much. You have no idea how long we’ve been waiting for this.”

  “Congratulations. We need to set up your next appointment.”

  Lisbeth waited while they set up her next check-up, ended the call, and fell onto the couch with the phone clutched to her chest. Another yelp escaped before she could stop herself. She was having a baby. They were having a baby. Her good mood faltered a moment later. They’d had one good round before, but it had ended in miscarriage.

  The next three and a half hours were torture as she waited for Candace to get home. To help them celebrate, she’d gone to the store and picked up a champagne substitute, even if it was still cautious optimism. At six fifteen, she greeted Candace with champagne flutes.

  “We’re going to be mothers!”

  Candace’s smile turned into a Cheshire-Cat-sized grin, and they exchanged fevered kisses before Lisbeth shoved the glass into Candace’s hands.

  “You shouldn’t be drinking.”

  “It’s sparkling cider.”

  “You think of everything, don’t you?”

  “Today, yes.”

  They toasted their good fortune and ended up curled together in the rocking chair in what would become the nursery.

  “I still can’t believe it worked,” Lisbeth said.

  “I think there’s someone watching over us. But we just have to be careful.”

  Lisbeth nodded. “I know. I’m terrified, but I’ve got you, so whatever happens, we’re going through it together.”

  3

  August 18th

  Renee Blackwell walked out of the employee bathroom. The aquarium swarmed with tourists and families trying to get a last visit in for the summer. She checked the time and headed for the entrance, where one of the tours awaited her. A small group of girls dressed in brown met her just beyond the ticket takers. Girl Scouts. Cute.

  “Hi, everyone.”

  “Hi,” a chorus of voices replied.

  “Has anyone been to the aquarium before?”

  Standard question to ask a new group. Inevitably, someone’s always been before. One little girl in the back with bushy blonde hair raised her hand.

  “It’s pretty cool, right?” Renee asked, flashing a smile.

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, it may look a little different right now because we’re doing some construction. But how about we get started?”

  She led them into the air-conditioned interior of the aquarium, taking them by the empty penguin tank. The girls stopped briefly to peer at the bluish water and sparse rocks.

  “Where are the penguins?” the blonde asked.

  “Well, right now, the aquarium is making changes to some of the habitats, and we had to move the penguins so we didn’t disturb them. But when we go outside, we can see blue penguins all the way from Australia.”

  The promise of exotic birds urged them onward around to the Tropical Gallery. They stopped and crowded around the Dangerous Species exhibits.

  “You wouldn’t want to meet these guys out in the ocean.”

  Gasps and squeals bubbled over as a pair of lionfish darted among the coral, peering at the group before disappearing again.

  They marched up the ramp, gawking at the Giant Ocean Dive Tank. Myrtle, the aquarium’s resident sea turtle, lounged just beneath a rock.

  “Anybody know how long Myrtle has been at The New England Aquarium?”

  Blank expressions waited for her to answer her own question.

  “She’s been here since 1970. I bet some of your parents remember seeing her when they were your age.”

  The troop leaders smiled amongst themselves. Apparently, they could relate. The ramp up to the next level continued, and they paused to get different views of the tank, pointing as enormous fish swam along. Just as they rounded to the back half of the second level, she spotted one of their largest stingrays.

  “Hey, everyone, take a look down there.”

  “Oh wow.”

  “How does it swim like that?” one of the girls asked.

  “See how it ripples along the edges. It uses its body like fins.”

  “Can we touch one?”

  “When we get to the touch tank upstairs.”

  Next on the agenda…the sea dragons. Before coming to work here, she’d never seen any. One of the critters popped into view, earning excited oohs from the tour.

  “What are they?”

  “They’re called sea dragons. There are only two types in the world, and we are lucky enough to have both of them. See if you can spot them in there. They like to hide to keep from getting eaten.”

  “Is it like a seahorse?” the blonde said.

  “Sort of. They definitely look like they are related.”

  Once satisfied they’d spotted as many dragons as possible, they rounded the last ramp up to the Edge of the Sea exhibit. The touch tank covered the length of the back wall, and three or four of her colleagues stood ready to instruct the kids on how to properly interact with the animals on display.

  “How come there aren’t any big starfish?” one girl asked as she peered down at a couple of tiny stars lounging in the left-most part of the tank.

  “Starfish are really sensitive. So we keep them in the glass tanks. You can look, but touching them will hurt them, okay?”

  The Scouts spread out along the tank, petting horseshoe crabs and hermit crabs. Renee waited near the next exhibit, glad to let her co-workers handle the group for a little while.

  “Can I touch that?” a shy brunette asked, pointing at the stingray.

  “Sure. Just don’t touch the tail. It might sting you.”

  The girl paled and started to pull her hand back. Renee gave her a reassuring smile.

  “It’s okay. It won’t hurt you if you’re gentle. Here, watch.”

  She stuck her hand into the tank and ran her fingers along the stingray’s back.

  “I think it likes it,” the girl said.

  “Now you try, Kelly.” One of the leaders nudged the girl onward.

  Kelly inched over the artificial habitat and touched the stingray.

  “Everyone had their turn? Make sure you wash your hands before we move on.”

  One by one, the girls washed their hands. When everyone stood waiting for her to lead on, she ushered them back down to the first level and outside to the larger pens. Hanging a quick right, they squeezed into the blue penguin exhibit. Ten noses pressed against the glass as penguins waddled with cautious steps down the padded ramp to the sand pit below. Several birds paddled in the shallow pool. The heat coming in through the windows hit Renee hard as they rounded the fur seal and sea lion enclosure. She was probably coming down with something. She tried to shake off the feeling as the girls watched the sea lions stretch out on one of the platforms. As the rank smell of dead fish assaulted her senses, she faltered. By now, she was used to the smell, but
it overwhelmed her today. Come to think of it, smells had been bothering her a lot.

  “Can we pet those?” one of the girls asked.

  Her friends giggled at her question.

  “Not today.” She checked her watch. “But we’re just in time for the Fur Seal Training Session.”

  Scurrying to get front row seats, the girls took off without their chaperones. One of the leaders touched Renee on the shoulder.

  “Are you all right? You look a little pale.”

  “I’m fine. Just spending too much time inside. The heat gets to you.”

  “The girls really love this. They’re earning their marine life badge.”

  “That’s great. I was a Scout when I was little. I think I made it a few years past them before I stopped.”

  “We’re hoping our girls go all the way.”

  Renee settled in for the show. Half an hour later, they made their way to the gift shop.

  “I hope everyone had a good time. You can look through the gift shop before you go. There are free brochures and post cards along that wall, so help yourselves.”

  “Thank you,” the girls said in unison.

  She waved goodbye to the group and checked her watch. Time to clock out and hit the T. If she didn’t leave now, she’d be late for her appointment.

  The ride seemed to take forever. The blue line was quick enough, but her transfer to the green line took entirely too long. It didn’t help that Government Center was extra crowded. By the time she hopped the red line at Park Street, she had ten minutes to make her appointment. A mass exodus erupted from the train as people disembarked. Thankfully, few people got on, and she snagged a seat. She glanced up at the map of the red line. One more stop, and she’d be there.

  “Come on.”

  The train screeched around a corner and finally came to a halt at the Charles/MGH stop. She leapt to the platform and nearly bowled over an older gentleman trying to get on.

  “Sorry,” she called over her shoulder as she raced through the exit and up to street level. Slowing her pace, she walked into the hospital and checked in with the clinic. Not two minutes later, a nurse appeared.