by Robyn Carr
Well, dum-dum, clearly your daughter lied to you, that mocking voice in her head told her.
We lied to our mother, she thought. But Maggie hadn’t been fifteen, for God’s sake!
But Sarah had been just fourteen. How had that girl kept from getting pregnant all through her teenage years? And Maggie had actually been only seventeen.
Maggie drew herself out of her chair and went back to Lindsey’s room. She was hoping to find her daughter crying, but she was, more predictably, talking on the phone. “I’m going to run an errand. Do not go out. Keep an eye on Hillary. I’ll be right back.”
She drove to the drugstore and hunted through the aisles for the home pregnancy tests. Reading the backs of some, she made a discovery—you could now determine pregnancy at about four minutes after conception. She held the pack in her hand for a long time. The news might not be good. She could be throwing away the last good night’s sleep she would have literally for years. Oh hell, she thought, who’s going to sleep?
She purchased and took it home. Lindsey was still on the phone. “I need you to hang up now.” For the first time in her memory, Lindsey said goodbye and hung up without so much as a peep of protest. She handed her the bag. “Read the instructions, pee on the stick. I’ll be in my room. Please do it right now.”
She turned and left her daughter. Back in her room, she slumped onto the bed, still wearing her coat. “God,” she said out loud. My daughters are both in crisis, she was thinking. One is terrified of losing her best friend to cancer and the other might be pregnant. “God,” she said aloud again.
A few moments passed and then she was jolted upright by a piercing scream. Oh, God, she thought—it’s positive! On her feet and racing down the hall, she saw Lindsey standing in front of the open bathroom door with a stricken look on her face. She’d gone completely pale. Maggie peeked into the bathroom and then she screamed. There stood Hillary, her head completely shaved.
“My God, what have you done?”
Hillary’s eyes met her mother’s in the mirror. All of her glorious long blond hair lay in a heap on the floor around her feet and on her face was the most serene expression she’d worn in a few weeks. “I did it in support of Lucy.”
“Couldn’t we have talked about it first?”
“Oh, like you’d’ve said yes.” She rubbed her pale bald head. “It’ll grow back. And so will Lucy’s.”
Maggie looked at the ceiling. “Am I being punished for something?” she asked the higher power beyond her roof. “Okay, get out of the bathroom right now. You sister has peeing to do.”
“You are a serious whack job,” Lindsey said to Hillary.
“And you’re a butt hole,” the little bald one said, brushing past her older sister.
“They’re going to come after me with a net,” Maggie muttered to herself as she went to her room.
She threw herself facedown on the bed, still wearing her coat. She beat the mattress with her fists for a little while. Where the hell was Bob? Carson City—legislature was in session. That’ll teach me to come home early. I should have found somewhere to hang out until I wasn’t the only adult in the house.
What am I going to do if this child is pregnant? She thinks she’s in love with this big lunkhead, Christopher, who apparently is walking around with all his brains in his dick. Don’t worry about that, she told herself. He’ll run like his ass is on fire. But what about Lindsey? Girls her age, even incredibly smart girls, have all these romantic illusions about having a baby. Oh, God, Lindsey had been talking about medical school! There was a good chance she’d be valedictorian! She’d been in accelerated classes since she was seven.
“Mom?”
Maggie was lying in the shape of a crucifix, feet hanging off the bed, arms stretched out wide. She lifted only her head. Lindsey was smiling. “It’s okay, Mom. One line, not two.”
“When was the last time you had sex?” Maggie asked from her tortured position.
Lindsey shrugged. “A week or so, I guess.”
“Well, I hope we’re all right. I’ll take you in the morning.”
“It’s probably okay, Mom.” Lindsey sat in the chair facing her mother. Maggie lowered her head. “I’m sorry, Mom. It’s just that, you know, I really love him.”
“I can’t talk about that right now,” Maggie said, not looking at her daughter.
“Now do we have to tell Dad? I mean, it’s okay. And this is a girls’ thing. Huh?”
Maggie lifted her head and glared at Lindsey.
“Jeez, you’re acting so weird,” Lindsey said.
“Go to your room. Study something. You are grounded for life!”
By the time Bob came home it was after nine. Maggie had finally discarded her coat and was wearing a comfortable sweat suit, sitting in her big comfy chair, working on her second scotch. “Hi, honey,” he said. “Have you eaten?”
“I don’t have much appetite. Have you seen the girls?”
“Not yet. I just barely got home.”
“Well, you might want to go downstairs, fix yourself a very large drink and come back up here to talk to me before you talk to them.”
“This doesn’t sound good,” he said.
“Large drink,” she advised.
Not terribly far away in another bedroom, Sarah was looking at a pregnancy stick, except on hers there were two lines. How was this possible? she asked herself. She’d been on the Pill forever, even when she didn’t think she needed it. And since setting her hopeful sights on Sam, she’d been very diligent about her pills. But she had only had a bit of spotting her last period, and lately she’d been feeling queasy in the mornings.
She had managed to remain in denial for a few weeks, but the queasiness had persisted. Disbelieving, she bought the home pregnancy test and was blown away by the results.
In a near panic, she called her doctor the first thing the next morning and after begging, pleading, they found a way to sneak her in.
When she walked into the waiting room, who did she find but Maggie and Lindsey. For a moment she was embarrassed, then remembered that pregnancy wasn’t the only reason to visit this doctor. “Hey, you two. What are you doing here?”
Lindsey looked away and Maggie said, “Checkup,” but she didn’t say it happily. “You?”
“Ah…checkup.” Sarah sat down next to them, and then she remembered. Fourteen. She’d been only fourteen when she’d lost her virginity. She looked at Maggie, her mouth opened slightly in shock, her eyes wide. Maggie’s eyes dropped slowly closed and she nodded grimly. “Shit,” Sarah said.
“Oh, this is great,” Lindsey huffed.
Lindsey was the first one into the exam room, Maggie waiting outside with Sarah. “I don’t even want to ask,” Sarah said.
“No, you don’t have to ask. You know.”
“Damn. I thought if anyone was on top of that, it was you.”
“I was,” she returned. “Apparently it was falling on deaf ears.”
“How’d Bob take it?”
“Better than I did. When I told him our daughter was officially having more sex than we were, he said, ‘It was bound to happen someday, honey.’ He’s lucky to be alive. And if you think this is interesting, you should see Hillary. She has shaved her head in support of her best friend who is losing her hair through chemotherapy.”
“Aw. That’s kind of sweet.”
Maggie’s eyes teared. It was something one never saw. She was so tough and strong, she never cried. “All that beautiful long blond hair, lying on the bathroom floor.”
Sarah squeezed her sister’s hand. “It’ll grow back, Maggie. At least she’s not having sex.”
“Yeah. That bald head might buy us some time.”
Sarah laughed in spite of herself.
“Go ahead. Laugh. Great Aunt Sarah.”
She gasped. “She’s not…” A sudden, horrible image of she and her fifteen-year-old niece going into the maternity ward together suddenly flashed before her eyes.
Maggie
shook her head slowly. “I don’t think so. But we’re here to find out for certain and rectify what we can.”
“Did you do one of those home tests?”
“Immediately. It was negative.”
“Well, that’s something. I guess.”
The nurse stuck her head into the waiting room. “Mrs. Traviston? You can come in now.”
Maggie leaned toward Sarah. “They should just call me Mrs. Travesty.” Then she went with the nurse.
Dr. Corvis was a lovely woman of about forty. She seemed made up of comforting lines, safe brown eyes, unpanicked mouth. She was behind the desk and Lindsey, dressed again, was sitting in one of the two chairs in front of it. Two chairs. They should be for the husband and wife, hearing the happy news. Not for the mother and daughter.
“Have a seat, Maggie. I think we’re all set here. I did a thorough exam and pap and told Lindsey that once she becomes sexually active she’ll need to be examined annually. I also tested for STDs and we’ll have those results back right away. I’ve prescribed emergency birth control that will take care of any pregnancy that may have occurred during the past few days, and a prescription for a very reliable contraceptive pill. However, and I can’t stress this enough, Lindsey, so I hope you hear me. Condoms are necessary—these pills will not prevent sexually transmitted disease and people do die of them. It’s not worth it to do without. Not worth it.” She started writing on the chart. “Now, you’ll need about two weeks for these pills to become effective, so if you please, no unprotected sex.”
“Believe me,” Maggie said.
Dr. Corvis folded her hands on her desk and looked at Maggie, then Lindsey, then said, “Ladies, you cannot unring this bell. This happens to most women at some point in their lives. We like it not to happen to women who are too young, but the only thing we can do is act responsibly. The best situation is to have children you plan. Are we all on the same page here?”
“Yes,” Lindsey said.
“What about a little lecture on Lindsey being too young for sex?” Maggie wanted to know.
“I believe she is,” Dr. Corvis said. “And I said so. But we’re beyond Just Say No. We’re right up against, Do Not Skip A Pill. And, thankfully, Lindsey appears to be completely healthy.” The doctor stood up. “It would be in your best interest to tell your daughter that if she ever feels nervous talking to you about a medical issue like birth control or a sexually transmitted disease, she can always call me. Any questions?”
Maggie didn’t have any. Case closed.
But in her heart she was sick that her daughter had crossed this threshold so young, and she knew the doctor was right, there was no going back. She might have celibate periods in her young life, but once the nectar had been tasted, it was drunk whenever it seemed right. Much as she hated this, to Lindsey, this young high school senior seemed right. Bllllkkkk!
“Lindsey, give me a second with Dr. Corvis? Please?”
“Don’t plot behind my back,” she said sternly. And left.
“What’s up, Maggie?”
“God,” she said, rubbing her forehead. “I don’t know how to do this.”
“Something I should know about Lindsey?”
“No. Something you should know about me. Bob and I haven’t…It’s been…I don’t know if it’s me…? I don’t know…”
“How old are you?”
“Forty-three. And coming into my prime, they say.”
“And Bob?”
“Forty-sex. Forty-six.”
Dr. Corvis chuckled. “Get him to the doctor, Maggie. He needs a physical. And if there is a problem, it’s probably easier to fix than you realize.”
“I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head. “It isn’t that he can’t. It’s that he just isn’t in the mood. He works so hard, gets too tired…”
“Oh bull. Men can do it in their sleep. Make a doctor’s appointment.”
Sarah sat on the exam table, whimpery though she wished to be strong. “How can this happen?” she asked the doctor.
“Ninety-nine point nine percent effective, Sarah. It’s extremely rare.”
“Why couldn’t the point one percent be some nice married lady?”
“You have many choices, but let’s talk about that later. For now, let’s do an ultrasound. Lie back down, dry your tears. It’s not the end of the world.” She revved up the machine, punched a few buttons and gelled up the probe. Dr. Corvis inserted the wand slowly and carefully; the machine bleeped in harmony. “Sarah, turn your head. Look,” she said softly, almost reverently. “There he is. This little mass here has a beating heart.”
She saw this little tadpole moving around inside of her and gasped. “It’s a boy?”
“We can’t tell yet. But what I can tell is that you’re actually about six weeks. Six weeks and change. At three months you’ll see arms and legs.”
Sarah, in awe of the squirmy little creature, did the math in her head. Dear God, she probably got pregnant that first time. She hoped that meant something—like it was kismet or something. “My God,” she said, reaching a hand out toward the monitor.
“We’ll print out a copy of what you see on the screen. Everything seems perfect, Sarah.” The doctor looked at a chart. “How does August twenty-fifth sound?”
“Like a million years from now.”
“You won’t believe how fast it will come round.”
“Right now, I’m a little more worried about the next couple of days.”
For once, time played on Sarah’s team. Sam worked overtime on Saturday, so she only saw him briefly when he stopped by the shop. There was only a little kissing in the back room. Sunday he took Molly to the slopes. Monday was ski day, after which they would meet at the inn.
All afternoon as Sam patrolled and Sarah skied, he was randy and playful. He’d sneak up on her and whack her on the butt, grab her and pull her behind a tree and plant a deep kiss on her, treat her to that dimpled grin, and the twinkle in his eye said that, as usual, he couldn’t wait. Couldn’t get enough. Oh boy, did she hate to throw a wet blanket on this party.
Sam didn’t seem to notice that she was somewhat preoccupied. But then, probably all the blood had drained from his brain to keep that powerhouse between his legs serviceable. They rode the lift together and he licked her ear and said, “I am dying for you.”
“Well, stop it. You’re no good to me dead.”
When she got to the inn, she didn’t wait in her usual inviting lack of attire. She was fully clothed. When Sam entered, he seemed not to notice. He rushed to her, grabbed her, lifted her up into his arms, whirled her around and devoured her with kisses that were hot and strong. He fell with her onto the bed and asked, “Want me to undress you with my teeth?”
“We have to talk,” she said.
He froze. “When a woman says that, it is almost always unpleasant.”
“I have absolutely no idea how you’re going to take this, Sam. I had an accident. I’m pregnant.”
Again, he froze. Shock registered on his handsome face. “How?”
“I was on the Pill. It didn’t work. I don’t know why.”
“Well…how long have you been on that pill?”
“Years. But…I wasn’t putting it to the test.”
“Okay, you said it had been a while since your last boyfriend, but—”
“Years, Sam. Years.”
He swallowed hard. “How far along, Sarah?”
“As near as the doctor can determine, it might have happened that first night.”
Sam sat up on the bed. His feet were planted on the floor and with his elbows resting on his knees, he dropped his head into his hands. “Well, that figures. I think we set some kind of record. I think my biceps are actually bigger.” She touched his back. He glanced over his shoulder at her. “This sucks.”
“Yeah. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not like you did it on purpose. Just give me a second to absorb this.”
“Take your time. I’ve had a couple of days.�
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“Why didn’t you tell me right away?” he asked. “The minute you knew?”
“Because I wasn’t going to tell you on the phone, and when I saw you on Saturday, you were on the job. Today you were working. I didn’t want this on your mind, with what you do—you just can’t afford to be distracted. I thought we could probably use some time alone.”
“Jesus. Let me think.” He put his head back in his hands. “Let me think why it never occurred to me to use a frickin’ condom!”
“Well, it was pretty spontaneous. And I doubt you could have carried enough of them in your wallet for that particular night.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I was like a runaway train.” He turned and looked at her. “Do you want to have it?”
Now it was Sarah’s turn to look shocked. Before she answered, she asked, “Do you want me not to?”
He shrugged. “Well, it’s an option. It would give us a fresh start.”
She put her hand on her flat stomach. “I saw it. On the ultrasound. I saw it moving around inside me. Its heart is beating. I’m thirty-three and I really didn’t think I’d ever have a baby. Yes, I’m having it.”
“And that’s another option,” he said. “Not real convenient, but hey.”
Well, that was a relief. She sighed audibly; it almost sounded like “whew.” “Tell me something—how would you feel if I’d said I wanted to have an abortion?”
“I wouldn’t feel good about it,” he said. “But at the moment, I don’t feel good, period.” At the look on her face he said, “I’m sorry, baby. I know you don’t feel good about it, either. Do you want to get married?” he asked.
“Is that what you want?”
He raised one leg onto the bed, turning toward her. “Sarah, what I want isn’t exactly a factor here. We have a situation.”
“You haven’t said you love me,” she pointed out.
He smiled and touched her hair. “I will love you every night, until you beg me to stop.”