Cara scanned the list of errands, which included dropping some documents off to one client, picking up papers from a different client, buying some office supplies, and a couple of personal tasks for Angela. Normally Angela wouldn’t ask her to do those types of things, but Cara knew they were simply reasons to extend out the time she spent away from the office and didn’t mind doing them in the least.
“Actually, why don’t you text me when you’ve finished with those things, and I can let you know then if the coast is clear?” suggested Angela.
“Okay. And thanks again for understanding. I really appreciate it.”
Angela nodded. “It’s no problem.” Her eyes narrowed speculatively as she studied Cara more closely. “Hey, you’ve lost some serious weight, haven’t you? That skirt is practically falling off you.”
Cara’s cheeks pinkened in mingled embarrassment and pleasure. “Not quite,” she demurred. “And I’ve still got a ways to go until I reach my goal. And, um, I’ve actually started jogging a little, only on the weekends though, since it’s way too dark before I have to leave for work.”
“You look great already,” assured Angela. “And don’t try to overdo it with the jogging. Build up your mileage a little at a time. Otherwise, you’ll have shin splints or tight hamstrings or a whole host of other problems. But bravo for you, Cara. They say looking good is the best revenge.”
Cara chuckled. “That’s exactly what Mirai told me. After she finally dragged me out of bed and sort of shamed me into taking some pride in myself again.”
“She’s a smart girl, your friend.” Angela took a tentative sip of the tea Cara had placed in front of her.
“You’re sure that’s all I can get you?” fussed Cara. “Have you had anything to eat this morning?”
Angela visibly shuddered. “God, no! Even the thought of a saltine cracker makes me want to retch. Maybe I will have an early day of it after all, go home after the market closes.”
Cara eyed her boss skeptically, placing a hand across Angela’s forehead. “You’re positive you aren’t pregnant? Because you don’t feel the least bit feverish to me, and you don’t seem to be having chills. So if it’s just the nausea and fatigue, well - you can connect the dots as well as I can.”
Angela shook her head fiercely, taking another sip of tea. “It’s definitely just a tummy bug. Absolutely. There is zero, repeat zero, possibility that I could be pregnant.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“There’s got to be a mistake. A big one. No, make that a huge one. What you’re telling us is simply not possible.”
Marilyn Kimball gave her patient a sympathetic look. “I’m afraid that it is, Angela. And I know exactly what you’re going to say next – that you’re using what’s widely considered the most reliable, foolproof method of birth control on the market today. And that according to our mutual records, the implant isn’t due to be replaced for another six months, which is very much within the normal time frame. But despite all of that, there is no denying the fact that you are definitely pregnant. I would estimate around six weeks at this point, but we’ll need to do further tests and procedures to determine the exact stage.”
“Before we even start discussing any of that,” growled Nick, who was visibly struggling to remain calm, “why don’t you tell us how the hell this could have happened?”
Doctor Kimball arched a brow at him, clearly annoyed by the arrogant attitude he’d been displaying since the beginning of this appointment. “The usual way, I would imagine, Mr. Manning,” she replied sarcastically. “I assume your parents taught you about the birds and the bees quite a few years ago. Oh, my mistake. I expect you mean how could Angela fall pregnant while her implant was still supposed to be effective.”
“Nick,” admonished Angela, giving him a jab in the ribs when his eyes darkened angrily at her OB/GYN’s coy response. “Behave, okay? Dr. Kimball, I have to admit I’m wondering the exact same thing.”
Doctor Kimball nodded. “So am I, to be honest. And I would have to do some research, call the manufacturer to see if there have been other reports of the implants expiring early. It’s certainly not unheard of, though. And before you leave today, we should plan on removing that implant. We wouldn’t want it to have any adverse effects on the embryo.”
“Embryo?” repeated Angela, sounding shell-shocked even to her own ears. “Oh. You mean the baby. Sorry, I’m really out of it at the moment.”
“That makes two of us,” muttered Nick beneath his breath. “To say the least.”
Doctor Kimball ignored the glowering, noticeably tense Nick and focused her attention on her patient instead. “I realize that this is a shock to both of you, and that you’re going to need some time to process the news. But sooner than later, we’ll need to discuss your prenatal care, Angela. As well as schedule an ultrasound so we can determine exactly how far along you are.”
Angela blinked, staring at her doctor numbly. “Um, that - that might not be, well, necessary. I mean, obviously Nick and I need to discuss this, given that it’s so unexpected, but I’m not sure what we, well, plan to do about this.”
“Of course.” Doctor Kimball gave a brief, noncommittal nod. “Well, the two of you are certainly old enough to know what your options are in this situation. And whatever decision you make, it shouldn’t be made lightly.”
Angela’s stomach was churning in agitation now, partly from the almost constant nausea she’d been experiencing lately, but mostly from nerves. “How - how long before we have to make a decision?” she asked in a small voice. “Before it’s no longer safe to - well, you know.”
Silently, Nick slid his hand over her tightly clenched ones, giving them a reassuring squeeze.
“You can safely terminate the pregnancy up through the sixteenth week, and beyond that under certain conditions,” advised Doctor Kimball. “Though of course the earlier the better in terms of medical risks. So you have some time yet. And once again, the two of you should discuss this thoroughly, don’t feel that you have to rush into a decision overnight. Think about it for several days, then call my office with your decision and we’ll go from there. Now, unless you have any other questions, why don’t we go ahead and remove that implant? I’ll just call a nurse in to assist me. Nick, you’re welcome to remain in the exam room during the procedure if you’d like.”
Nick shook his head, surging to his intimidating height of six foot six. “I’ll pass, thanks. Believe it or not, that sort of thing makes me a little squeamish. I’ll be outside in the waiting room.”
He bent to press a kiss to Angela’s forehead before exiting the exam room, followed by the doctor as she went to summon one of the nurses. Angela was left alone in the stark white, sterile room filled with posters that depicted how to do a breast self-exam, illustrated common gynecological disorders, another about understanding menopause, and the last one that was a chart on prenatal development. She shuddered as her gaze fell on that one, and quickly looked away.
To say that she was in a state of shocked disbelief at this moment would be a gross understatement of fact. All of this had unfolded so rapidly over the course of the last twenty four hours that her head was spinning, and she felt overwhelmed by it all, despite the fact that Nick had been unwavering in his support thus far.
She hadn’t felt well for close to two weeks now, being plagued with nausea, dizziness, and an overall feeling of lethargy. She’d convinced herself that all she was suffering from was the same tummy bug her nephew had picked up, even though he’d evidently felt much better within a day or two while hers continued to linger. Next, Angela had tried unsuccessfully to assure Nick that she was simply rundown and overtired, probably from overtraining for the mountainous marathon she’d competed in last month.
But when she’d spent the better part of yesterday morning heaving into the toilet, shuddered at the very thought of food, and fainted dead away, he’d promptly bundled her into the car and whisked her off to her internist’s
office where he had bullied his way into an appointment. The doctor had given her a brief exam, asked a few general questions, and then handed her a specimen cup so that she could provide a urine sample.
And when the sample had revealed that she was indeed pregnant, the doctor had drawn blood so that a more accurate lab test could be done, and also advised her to get in touch with her OB/GYN. Nick had hovered over her while she’d dialed that number, not making even the slightest attempt to give her privacy, or disguise the fact that he was blatantly eavesdropping.
Doctor Kimball had been able to squeeze her in this afternoon, by which time the positive results from the blood test had come back. A brief pelvic exam had further confirmed the accuracy of the diagnosis. Why Angela’s previously foolproof method of birth control had suddenly failed still remained to be seen - just like the final outcome to this fiasco was anything but certain.
Nick had remained silent and brooding throughout, but then he often exhibited such behavior so she wasn’t too surprised at his reaction thus far. And he’d been remarkably supportive in his own bossy way, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze or offering to bring her tea and saltine crackers or simply holding her close. But he had yet to offer up an opinion - something that was almost unheard of for him - and Angela truthfully had no idea of what was going on in that handsome but stubborn head of his right now. When she’d tentatively broached the subject after leaving the internist’s yesterday, he had forestalled her and merely said they should wait until after today’s appointment before jumping to any conclusions.
Now that her pregnancy had been confirmed by both blood, urine, and physical tests, however, the moment of reckoning had definitely arrived. Like it or not, she and Nick were going to have to talk about this whole mess rationally - something that wasn’t always easy for the two of them - and come to the right decision.
She had never experienced an overwhelming desire to be a mother, probably because her own mother had done such a lackluster job in being a good role model. She’d liked spending time with her various nieces and nephews, and had even babysat them from time to time. And when her closest friends - Lauren and Julia, the McKinnon twins, whom she’d grown up with - had both given birth to twins earlier this year, Angela had felt the stirring of some very subtle maternal urgings. She was godmother to one of Lauren’s little girls – Daisy - and made it a point to visit her and her twin Summer whenever she was down in the Carmel area. They were admittedly gorgeous babies, unsurprising since both Lauren and her hunky husband Ben were so attractive. The twins were also sweet-tempered, placid, and rarely if ever fussed - traits that Angela surmised they’d received from their laidback father rather than their confrontational mother.
But motherhood had changed Lauren, too, had smoothed out a lot of her rough edges, and brought out a softer, more mellow side of her that Angela would have never imagined existed. It made her wonder now if by some miracle she, too, had some hidden maternal instincts that she would have previously denied existed.
The nurse bustled cheerily into the exam room then, running a disinfectant swab over Angela’s upper arm before injecting her with a numbing agent. It was on the tip of Angela’s tongue to tell the nurse not to bother with the shot, since her entire body was basically numb right now. She barely felt the prick of the needle, just like she didn’t even flinch when the doctor arrived a few minutes later to extract the tiny implant that had failed Angela so miserably.
“We’ll save this in case the manufacturer wants to analyze it,” explained Doctor Kimball as she dropped the device inside a specimen bag. “Your arm will probably feel a little sore for a day or so, but nothing major.”
Angela nodded, too dazed by everything that had happened to think of a reply.
The doctor placed a light hand on Angela’s shoulder, and when she spoke her voice was kind. “It’s going to be okay,” she assured. “Whatever you decide, you’ll be fine either way. I’ve had any number of patients who’ve had to deal with an unexpected pregnancy on their own, with no partner and no financial means of supporting a baby. Now, I don’t presume to know anything about the size of your bank account, but I’d guess raising a child wouldn’t be a problem for you in that respect. As for the other, well, your partner isn’t a warm and fuzzy one, is he? But he does seem to care about you a great deal, Angela, and I’m confident Nick will do the right thing by you. Give me a call when the two of you have made a decision and we’ll figure out the next steps. Until then, get as much rest as possible, and read over that booklet I gave you, at least the part about dealing with the nausea.”
Doctor Kimball exited the room then, leaving Angela to slowly pull on her clothes, and to ponder on one thing in particular that the doctor had just said - about Nick doing the right thing by her. Angela didn’t doubt that fact, didn’t believe for a minute that Nick would wash his hands of this whole mess and leave her to make all the decisions. This was Nick, after all, aka Mr. Control Freak, so there was no doubt whatsoever that he would definitely have some very strong opinions about the situation. And she could more or less guess what his solution was going to be.
If she had never envisioned herself as the motherly type, then there was no way in hell she could ever see Nick in the role of attentive father. He was gruff and temperamental, stubborn and arrogant, and had been used to doing things his way for most of his life. Living with him continued to be a learning experience - for both of them, if she was being totally fair - and try as she might, Angela simply couldn’t envision how either of them would handle raising a baby. They had both come a long ways in their relationship, and in learning to trust not only each other but family members and friends as well, but the issues the two of them still had to deal with weren’t the sort that just went away overnight. How in the world could they bring a child into such an unstable environment, at least without screwing the kid up big time?
Nick was silent as he drove out of the medical building’s parking lot, and Angela was too tired to strike up a conversation right now. She didn’t want to talk about the baby, about the decision they needed to make concerning this unexpected hand fate had dealt them. All she wanted right now was to change into her rattiest sweats, curl up in their oversized bed, and sleep for about eighteen hours.
But then it dawned on her that Nick wasn’t headed to the home they shared high up in the hills of Sausalito. In fact, he was driving in the exact opposite direction of the Golden Gate Bridge that they would need to cross in order to reach their house.
“Where are we going?” she asked crossly. “It’s too early for dinner, and I doubt I could eat a thing anyway.”
He shot her a sideways glare. “You’re going to have to start eating, Angel. It’s morning sickness, after all, not afternoon and evening sickness. The doctor said she could prescribe something for the nausea, so take her up on it. And we’re not going to a restaurant, at least not yet. Ah, here we are. And thank fuck there’s actually a parking space for once.”
Before she had a chance to protest, Nick was parking the Jaguar, inserting his credit card in the meter, and then tugging her out of the car.
Angela’s heart started beating double time as she recognized the store he was propelling her into. “Nick, why in the world are we here of all places? The last thing I need right now is..”
“Is to argue with me,” he finished commandingly. “Come on, Angel. We’re expected.”
The store he practically dragged her into was a very high end, very exclusive jewelers, and Nick had become one of their best customers since meeting Angela. Despite her protests that she really wasn’t a jewelry person, he continued to surprise her on a regular basis with a new bracelet or pendant or a pair of earrings. He had brought her with him a few times, mostly to help him choose a gift for one of their mothers for some occasion, but also so that she could actually select something for herself for once without Nick arrogantly doing it for her.
They bypassed the usual display cases of necklaces and
shockingly expensive watches, however, as Nick all but dragged her towards the back of the store to where a smiling salesman was waiting for them.
“You got what I wanted, Milo?” asked Nick gruffly.
The slender, meticulously groomed older man gave a brief nod. “Of course, Mr. Manning. I’ve had it set aside since you looked at it yesterday. Here you are, sir.”
Angela watched the scene unfolding in front of her as though she was in some sort of bizarre dream sequence. Milo the jeweler placed a small, square box of dark gray velvet in Nick’s outstretched palm before discreetly disappearing into a back room. Nick opened the box and withdrew whatever was inside before he turned and picked up her left hand.
“Don’t say a word until I’m finished, okay?” he warned her. “And I’m going to tell you right now, Angel - I won’t take no for an answer. I swear to Christ I would never in a billion years have envisioned myself doing something like this, but then I would never have been able to see myself as a prospective father, either. You and I both had fucked up childhoods, and I’ve rarely seen two people who have as many different issues as you and I do. God help this poor kid of ours, and let’s hope we don’t mess this whole parenting thing up big time. I know neither of us planned for this to happen – ever - but the fact of the matter is that’s my baby growing inside of you, Angel. And there’s no way in hell you’re going to quote unquote terminate it. What you are going to do is marry me, and then somehow, someway help me figure out how to actually raise this kid. Got it? Oh, and I picked this one out yesterday after we first got the news. It’s perfect for you, but I guess if you really don’t like it we can look at some others.”
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