by Gail Haris
“The best. I hate that it wasn’t longer.”
“At least it was something.” I wrap my arms around her and hold her tight.
“Yeah. I appreciate all the effort he made to get the time we had. Thank you for helping out.”
I pat her back, before releasing her and putting her at arm’s length. “Let me see it?”
“See what?” I smile, and she bursts out giggling. “I knew you helped him!” Alice holds out her wrist with the charm bracelet that Noah had gotten her for her last birthday. Now, added to the Alice in Wonderland theme charms, is a little dog collar.
“It’s so cute!” I shriek.
“Thank you. He said he promises to make the next time he gives me jewelry to be more romantic.”
“Next time?” I can’t help the grin that spreads over my face.
She giggles like a little girl and then sighs. “I love him, Rachel. If he’d asked me right now, I would’ve said yes in a heartbeat.”
“I’m sure he wants to wait until he’s out of the military. But no doubt, that boy is crazy about you.”
“Well, for now, we’re just committed to each other.”
“Committed?” I can’t help but laugh.
“Yes. We’re promised to each other.”
“Stop. I’m going to be sick. My stomach has not been feeling the best, and this is way too sweet for me.”
“Still? You said yesterday your stomach was bothering you. Feel like eating?”
“Heck yes, I still have to eat. Just nothing fried.”
“Think you caught a virus? Stomach bug?”
I walk over and grab my purse. “Not sure. Hopefully, I’ll get over it soon.”
A few nights later, I throw my legs over the side of my tiny twin bed and fumble through the darkness to get to the trash can next to my desk. I throw up all of the pizza from the late-night supper Alice and I shared.
“Rachel?”
“I’m fine. Go back to sleep.”
“I don’t think you are…”
“I think I’ve been eating too many greasy foods is all.”
“Let’s go to the campus clinic. Or better yet, the emergency room.”
“Because I threw up? Alice, I’m pretty sure the hospital would be overrun if every college student came in for puking.”
Alice pauses for a moment, and then says, “But you haven’t been out partying. You’ve not been feeling well for a while.”
“If I throw up again, I’ll go. At least let me get through my classes.”
“If you have something, then you don’t need to spread it.”
Always the practical one. “That’s true. When the campus clinic opens, I’ll go there. Let’s get some rest until then.”
“Fine.”
I close the trash bag, so our tiny room doesn’t stink. In the morning, I’ll take it down to the dumpster. Speaking of, I check the clock on my phone. 5:45 a.m. I guess it is morning.
Quietly, I get dressed and take the trash to the dumpster downstairs. I lift the lid and sling the bag over. Before the lid closes, a bright small pink box in the far corner catches my attention. A pregnancy test. My heart stops. I feel all the blood drain from my face. When was my last period?
Vomiting. Sensitive to smell. Tired. Emotional. I feel my breasts, and they’re tender. Could I be…
No.
I allow the lid to fall shut with a bang and numbly walk back toward the dorm. I don’t even remember getting back to my room. In a zombie-like state, I sit on my bed and stare at the wall. Alice has already fallen back to sleep. There’s no going back to sleep for me. I don’t even waste time with a bra; I throw on a hoodie and leggings. Then I hurry to my car and drive to the nearest drug store. I won’t be able to focus until I put an end to this crazy idea that’s planted itself in my head. I can’t be pregnant! I haven’t even had sex since…No.
Not going down that road. A humorless chuckle escapes me. “As if this couldn’t get any worse. Wouldn’t that be the icing on the cake?” Great. Now I’m talking to myself out loud. I’m officially losing it.
Once inside the small drug store, I immediately feel guilty and ashamed. It’s as though every eye is staring at me, and they know what I’m there to get. Feeling self-conscious, I grab a nightgown from a nearby rack and throw it in my basket. Then I place several pregnancy test boxes under the nightgown. I use the self-checkout lane, so I can slide one box at a time out from under the nightgown and quickly place them in the plastic bag. I hurry and insert my money and rush out the door.
When I get back to the room, Alice is gone. Thank goodness. I find a sticky note on the mirror:
After my class, you’re going to the doctor! Feel better!
I have a sinking feeling that I’m about to feel worse. Discarding the nightgown on the bed, I take the bag filled with pregnancy tests to the bathroom. I rip open the first plastic package and quickly pee on the stick. Gently, I place the stick on the floor, like it’s a grenade. The cold tile numbs my skin. I rock back and forth, struggling for my next breath. I leap when the shrill sound of my phone timer goes off. Slowly, I lean over and my heart drops.
Positive.
I perform the same process several more times. Each time, more careful than the last, to perform each step as instructed. It’s a simple process, really. However, I must be doing something wrong.
Positive.
I grab a cup and pee in it. I rip the next package open and place the stick in the cup. Then, I carefully lay it down to wait for the results. Anxious, I grab another stick and place it in the cup. And another.
Positive.
Positive. Positive. Positive. Can you have a false positive six times? At this point, the answer is clear. Evident as two bold pink lines. This can’t be. Yet, after so many tests, the answer is undisputed. A sob rakes through my body. A tentative knock on the bathroom door makes me only cry harder. How? Well, I know how, but how? A knock sounds again, louder this time. What do I say? The knob turns, and the door opens. Slowly, Alice peaks inside. Her mouth hangs open as her eyes scan over the pregnancy tests scattered over the floor.
“Rachel?” She crouches down next to me. My hair creates a curtain over my face as my head drops forward. “Hey, sweetie. I’m guessing you’ve got some big news, huh?”
“Don’t.” I hiccup. “Don’t make jokes now. Don’t even think about trying to be positive.”
“You’ve had enough positives-”
“Alice.” I raise my head, and she pushes some of my hair behind my ear. She looks so much like Landon. Except, her eyes are the wrong color, but the same compassion is there. I cry harder.
After a few hiccups, I whisper, “I—I think I do need to go to the clinic. Will you drive me? I still want confirmation that this is really happening. Also, I want to know how far along I am—if I really am.” These could still all be wrong, right?
Alice nods and helps me up. We’re silent as we leave the dorm room. We don’t speak, even after we get inside the clinic. I check myself in, feeling like all eyes are judging me. They don’t know what you’re here for—I remind myself. When they call my name, I turn to Alice. Before I even have to ask, she offers, “Want me to go back there with you?”
I nod, grateful that Alice is here with me. She might very well find out she’s an aunt. She hurries to my side, and we follow the nurse through the door to the exam rooms.
Alice turns her back, to allow me some privacy to disrobe and put on a gown. The nurse enters and begins asking health questions. She leaves, and the doctor enters the room. The doctor is young with a pleasant smile. Her makeup is minimal and I’m pretty sure her lashes are naturally that long, and her hair is in a neat, smooth bun. She greets me with bright brown eyes. “Hello Ms. Abernathy. I’m Doctor Johnson.” Her voice is low and soothing. She explains that since I appear to still be in the early stages, she will have to do an ultrasound vaginally.
I block out everything she does as my mind races. I have gained some weight, but I thought that
was the norm for freshmen in college. It’s the norm for pregnant women as well. As soon as I hear the swooshing and the steady rhythm of a heartbeat, the flood gates open. This is real. There’s a life growing inside of me. I’m only seventeen!
“You’re roughly about sixteen weeks along. You might have a New Year’s baby.”
All oxygen leaves my body. I feel so stupid! How did I not know I was pregnant, all this time? My mind races with all that I’ve eaten and drank while carrying a baby. Is he or she healthy? What damage have I already done to this new life? Am I even fit to be a mother? I’m off to a spectacular start.
The doctor gives me instructions on what to do from here on out. My next appointment is scheduled, and I’m given some vitamin supplements.
“You’re going to be fine. If you need help, here’s a list of local classes, programs, and clinics.”
I take the print out from the doctor. She smiles and takes a step toward the door.
“Wait. Excuse me, I’m sorry. I—I’m worried,” I stop and look at my feet. Inhaling a deep breath, I find the courage to meet her eyes. “I drank…a lot. Two weeks ago. Is my baby…” I can’t finish the question.
Doctor Johnson wraps her hand around mine. “Your baby is going to be fine. We’re going to take good care of the baby and Mama from here on out, all right?” I nod, working to fight back the tears.
How? How am I going to do this?
“Honey, you’re going to be fine,” she says.
“Did I ask that out loud?”
She nods and then takes my hand. Her skin is so soft and smooth, but her grip is strong. I look up to her eyes and try to fight my bottom lip from trembling. “I’m only seventeen. I can’t do this.”
Doctor Johnson levels me with a stare. “You can do anything. I’m going to tell you what my mother told me—you can do and be anything, as long as you don’t quit on yourself. You hear me? A black girl, from a poor neighborhood in a small-town with nothing to offer, graduated at the top of her medical school. I didn’t give up on myself. I listened to her, and now, you listen to me.” Her kind eyes and strong grip give me some renewed strength. She smiles again. “Rest, take care of yourself and baby. I want you to check out some of these programs. You have the clinic’s number, and we’re here if you need us.” Before she walks out of the room, she turns to me, and, once again, levels me with a stare. “Never say you can’t do something.”
Her words are powerful, and I probably am not fully appreciating them because, right now, my head is a mess. Book smarts I have in the bag. I can study hard and work even harder—but this, this is a life growing inside of me. What am I supposed to do? How do I tell—oh God. I force my mind to shut down.
I get dressed in a zombie state, and we leave the clinic in silence. Once we’re in the car, I mumble to Alice. “Can you please…” I suck in a breath. “…drive me to Trent’s?”
Alice doesn’t question me. She just drives. Once again, I’m so grateful for how she’s been here for me, not asking me a million questions. She really is the best.
Trent opens his front door, as soon as Alice’s car pulls into the driveway. As we walk toward the door, two things happen simultaneously: his smile falters as do my steps.
God, I need Landon. You took my strength when you took him. How will I ever accept losing him? Please, I need strength right now. Give me strength.
I wait, but my prayers go unanswered. Inhaling a deep breath, I continue to walk on wobbly legs toward the door. My watery green eyes meet his hard-set blue ones. He opens the door wider for us to enter. We sit down on the couch. The room is unusually warm, but maybe it’s just me. Everyone seems fine, while I can feel myself getting sticky with sweat, making me want to crawl out of my skin. I fidget with my hands, but stop when I feel Trent and his sister’s eyes on me. Gosh, they probably think I’m suffering from drug withdrawal based on my behavior. Alice smiles and gently places her hand over mine. I hadn’t realized I was also slightly rocking back and forth. I’m so nervous. Even though my stomach is empty, I feel like I’m about to vomit. I can’t do this. Doctor Johnson’s words come back to me—don’t say you can’t do something. Might as well get this over with then. My voice trembles as I say, “I just came from the clinic. I’m pregnant. Around four months.”
Silence.
Then to my horror, Maggie enters the room from the kitchen doorway. “Oh my gosh…Are you pregnant with Landon’s baby?”
“Yes,” I confirm.
I tempted fate by asking what else could turn my life upside down. And that bitch delivered. Now I’m sitting in Trent’s living room, telling him that I’m pregnant. We’re having a critical moment—a family moment—when the flawless Maggie enters. What is she doing here? Are they back together? Probably. Grrreeat. Just great. She just might have helped me, though, by automatically assuming that I’m pregnant with Landon’s baby. Quickly, I calculate how many weeks I am in accordance to Landon’s death. I would’ve had to have gotten pregnant before. A minor technicality. I can do this. I can do this… Doctor Johnson probably didn’t mean this when she said I could do anything, but I’m running with it. Saying that Landon is the father would solve one of my problems—Trent.
Landon wouldn’t mind me claiming him as the father, and now, I don’t have to deal with any awkwardness from Trent. Not to mention, I’m protecting Trent from my parents. If they find out he got me pregnant while I was in high school… I don’t want to finish that thought. All eyes are staring at me. I straighten in my seat and meet each of their gazes. Alice stares in disbelief. Trent’s eyes are wide with evident shock. Maggie stares in anticipation. A weight has been lifted. Thank you, Lord. Actually, this was probably a test, and I’m, mostly likely, now going to hell for this lie. I clear my throat and whisper, “I must’ve gotten…” I clear my throat again, “I must’ve…I mean, we…right before…” The words get caught in my throat.
I chance a glance at Trent. Landon never told his brother that our relationship was fake, and he was gay, but I’m sure Trent suspected it. I feel Alice’s gaze burning through my peripheral vision. She knows the truth about their brother. I can feel her questioning look. If we made eye contact, right now, I know she’d see the truth in my eyes.
Maggie places her hand over her heart and is on the verge of tears. “Have you told his parents yet?”
I shake my head, and she moves to stand next to Trent and begins rubbing his back and says more to him than me, “I bet Melissa will be thrilled.” My chest tightens at watching her long delicate manicured hand touching him so freely. I’ve touched him, too, all of him. Just not like her. I’ve never had that privilege to run my hands along his arm so freely in front of other people. Every touch we’ve shared has always been hidden like a secret, evident by the one I’m carrying now. She notices me staring and asks, “Are you feeling alright?”
I snap out of my thoughts and focus on her. “Yes, sorry. What’d you say?”
Her perfect pink lips stretch into a smile, as she says, “Melissa. I’m sure she’s going to be thrilled. A little part of her son will live on. You’re carrying a part of Landon.”
Well, Landon and Trent share the same DNA, so I guess she’s right. Oh God. I can’t do that to Melissa. I can’t lie to her face and tell her that I’m carrying Landon’s baby. She’s been through too much. A silence fills the room. Maggie idly caresses Trent’s muscular arm, and I watch his strong muscles tense, under his tight fitted maroon shirt. I can’t sit here, and now say I’m carrying his baby. I won’t force him to be mine. Plus, I’m underage. What a scandal this would cause for the Randalls. I know Trent; he’d feel obligated to be with me. He’d always be there, but would he be there with Maggie by his side? Would I have to go through life, always watching them? Her pawing him. I’ll go to my grave swearing this is Landon’s baby. I’m done with Trent. I won’t force him to be with me. I sure as hell am not going to sit back and watch this for the rest of my life. Not being able to handle any more, I stand. Alice and Trent
watch every step I take toward the door. Maggie runs over to hug me. Her delicate arms wrap around me, and I smell her expensive perfume and hair salon shampoo. I gently pry myself from her and give her what I hope comes off as a smile.
“I’m feeling tired. Alice, can you take me back to the dorm, please?”
Alice hurries to my side as I open the door. I look over my shoulder at Trent, who is still motionless, other than a tick in his strong jaw. I hurry out the door and to the car. I slam the door shut and look up through the windshield to see Maggie standing in the doorway waving bye.
As soon as Alice shuts her door, she’s in my face. “Okay, I’m sorry, I want to give you your space—”
“Then do it.”
“I want to, I really do. But I can’t, Rachel. That’s not Landon’s baby. Trent’s the father, isn’t he?”
I open and close my mouth a few times. Finally, I huff and snap at her, “how do you know that Landon didn’t experiment a little? Don’t knock it ‘til you try it so to speak. You’ve heard the expression.” I slap my hands down on my lap and turn to face her. “And why would you think Trent, of all people, is the father? His head is so far up Maggie’s ass. You haven’t noticed?”
She searches my face, and then, slowly, shakes her head. “I’ve noticed plenty. Especially between you and Trent. I noticed you leaving his room the night of the funeral. Not sure what all went on after prom either. And it didn’t go unnoticed that the first person you wanted to go see after leaving the doctor was him. If Maggie hadn’t suggested Landon was the father, what would you have told him?”
“I don’t have any brothers or sisters. I told you, didn’t I? So,” I shrug, “I felt I should tell Trent as well. He’s the uncle.” I cross my arms and look out the windshield. “I’ll tell my parents and the rest of Landon’s family soon.” I throw my head back against the seat and try to fight back tears.
Alice starts the car and pulls away from Trent’s place. She doesn’t drive us back to the dorms, but instead, we ride around for a while. I welcome this time of quiet.