Embittered Ruby

by Nicole O'Dell

  Tiffany inched around. “Carmen. Shh. She’s just very pregnant. You’ll look just like her one day soon.”

  “Gross.”

  The grandmother type in front of them scooted out of the way, still using the countertop to rest her purse while tucking her insurance card into her wallet.

  “Go on. Tell her your name.” Tiffany gave a gentle push on Carmen’s arm.

  Couldn’t Tiff have done it? Carmen stepped forward. “I have an appointment. Carmen Castillo.” Hopefully her whisper sounded confident enough.

  “Well hello, dear. This is your first time with us?” The bubbly nurse in the rubber-ducky scrubs at the front desk grinned and slid a clipboard beneath the sliding-glass partition. Why glass? In case some rogue pregnant mafia bride went postal on them?

  Moving toward the waiting area, Carmen flipped through the papers and reached for the pen dangling by a two-foot length of fuzzy green yarn.

  “Just fill those out as best you can, dear. Be sure to calculate the first day of your last period correctly so we can give you an accurate due date.” The nurse bit back the smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth but shot a quick glance out at the few patients in the waiting room.

  The whale-like woman gasped and clutched her stomach.

  Carmen froze. Had that nurse actually done that on purpose just to get a response out of the other patients? Wasn’t there some kind of patient confidentiality law that she just broke? Maybe Carmen could sue after she got over her humiliation. If she ever did.

  The card fluttered from the old lady’s hand and landed on the floor. She clucked her lips and shook her head as she stooped to pick it up. “Ridiculous,” she muttered and glared at Carmen.

  “I know, can you believe it?” Tiffany sighed at the elderly woman. She touched the woman’s arm like they were coconspirators witnessing some kind of teen tragedy.

  What? Carmen thought Tiffany was on her side. In a weird sort of way, anyway.

  Tiffany gave the horrified woman an I’ve-got-a-secret grin. “Years of fertility treatments, and the poor girl is finally talking due dates.”

  The woman clucked her tongue and shook her head, the disapproval oozing from her wrinkles.

  Did she say fertil—? Ha! Nice one, Tiff. Carmen giggled then glanced at the nurse who’d been watching from behind the glass.

  The disapproval sailed from the nurse’s face, and her eyes twinkled. Humor won out over disapproval.

  Carmen filled out her papers—what she could answer anyway. That was where a bio mom would have come in handy over the home-wrecker girlfriend. Tossing aside the issues of Fit Pregnancy and Parents from the stack of magazines on the side table, Carmen settled back into a chair with a copy of Cosmo Bride. Time enough for the mom stuff later. She had a wedding to plan.

  A nurse in panda scrubs opened the door to the inner sanctum. She wrinkled her nose at the chart in her hand. “Carmen Castillo?”

  Castee-yo. Not Cas-till-oh. Come on. Did people really not get the double L pronunciation? “That’s me.” She gathered her things and followed.

  “Want me to come or stay here?” Tiffany rose from her chair.

  Did Carmen want to go alone? Not really. But was this experience something she wanted to share with Tiffany? Not really. Still, alone was worse. “Yeah, come on if it’s okay.”

  Tiffany nodded. “Right behind you.”

  The carpet was brown. That’s all Carmen could think about on the long walk past the women in the waiting room and the nurses at the bustling nurses’ station. She couldn’t possibly look them in the eye. Better to stare at the ground and just follow the feet in front of her. One day soon she’d be waddling behind that same nurse like a duck on steroids.

  The feet stopped at an intersection where the nurse stood in front of a scale with a digital readout hanging on the wall.

  “Okay. Hop on. Shoes on or off—doesn’t matter. Just do it the same way next time.” She held the chart with her pen poised to record the info.

  A public weigh-in? Horrifying. Carmen stepped on the platform. The digital display began flashing numbers. What was this, The Biggest Loser? Yep. That’s me.

  “Okay. Looks like you’re at 124.”

  Seriously? “What, the flashing neon lights weren’t enough, so you had to announce it to the world?”

  “Huh?” The nurse’s eyebrows furrowed.

  Tiffany nudged Carmen with her elbow. “Be nice.”

  The nurse frowned. “This way.” She stopped in front of the restroom. “We’ll need a urine sample. You can use this cup and then slide it into the little cubby there behind the toilet.”

  “Oh. A pregnancy test won’t be necessary. I know for sure I’m pregnant.” The positive EPT, the morning sickness, the expanding belly…proof enough for Carmen.

  Nurse Panda looked down her nose. “I’m quite sure you do, dear. That’s not what we’re testing for. Just leave your sample there. We’ll collect a new one at each visit.”

  Lovely.

  Carmen pulled the door closed. Would have been nice if they explained what they were looking for before just expecting her to follow orders. Maybe she should have said no.

  “We’re waiting right outside.”

  Perfect.

  Urinating on plastic seemed to have become a habit of Carmen’s lately. At least this time she didn’t have to wait three minutes for the results. Screwing the cap on tightly, Carmen followed instructions and set the cup in the proper place. She washed her hands and opened the door. Tiffany and Nurse Panda were leaning against the wall waiting for her.

  “Right this way.” She gestured into a small examination room. “Go ahead and undress completely. Put the gown on with the opening in back and then have a seat on the exam table. The doctor will be right in.”

  Naked in a paper dress, Carmen tried to hold the back closed as she got onto the table like climbing onto an amusement-park ride. She could almost hear the announcer. “Buckle your seat belts, and get ready for the next ride at The Most Humiliating Day in History.”

  Tiffany smiled. “Seafoam green is definitely your color.”

  “Oh? You like?”

  “Belt that thing, and you could wear it to the prom.”

  “Funny. But now you’re pushing it.” The prom. Would Carmen ever get to go to the prom now? She would have gone with Nate last year, but she’d been sick with pneumonia. The year before, she couldn’t go because the school didn’t allow freshmen to attend even with a date who qualified. This was supposed to have been her year.

  If the online due-date calculators were accurate, the baby would come in the middle of June. No prom for Carmen.

  Nurse Panda opened the door and pushed a metal cart into the room. “I’m going to take some measurements, and then the doctor will come talk to you.”

  Blood pressure. Temperature. Pulse. “Okay, now lay back on the table and lift your gown. I’m going to measure the height of your fundus.”

  My what? I don’t think so. “Uh, can I have a sheet or something before I lift my gown?”

  The nurse sighed and yanked open a drawer. She handed Carmen a sheet and waited.

  Sorry to bother you, lady.

  Tiffany cleared her throat. “You know, I think I need to speak up here. Is there someone else who could take over? Your disdain for Carmen is clear, and it’s making us both uncomfortable.”

  Go, Tiffany!

  “You’re saying you’d like to have a different nurse?” Panda’s eyes were wide.

  “I think that would be best.”

  “Fine. One will be in shortly.” The nurse huffed from the exam room without bothering to close the door.

  “I have a feeling we’ll be waiting for a long time.” Tiffany checked her watch.

  A light knock sounded on the door frame. A young nurse flashed deep dimples as she soared into the room. “Hey. I’m Shelly. Glad to meet you.” She shook Carmen’s hand. “I feel like I need to apologize for Carol. Please don’t be offended. It’s especially hard
for her to deal with teen pregnancies for…personal reasons. But I think you and I are going to get along great.”

  Shelly helped Carmen lay back on the table then lifted her paper gown, careful to cover her with the sheet. “Let me get a quick measurement.” She stretched the tape from Carmen’s pubic bone to a spot on her stomach. “This tells us if your uterus is the size it should be at this point in your pregnancy.” She consulted a chart. “Yep. You’re eleven weeks pregnant and measuring at ten weeks. That’s well within range. Especially since it’s a bit early for these measurements anyway.”

  “Let me help you sit up.” She grasped Carmen’s hand and pulled. “Okay, now the fun stuff.”

  Prenatal vitamins. Do this. Don’t do that. Weight gain. Movement. Sure hope Tiffany was taking notes. Next time Carmen would bring Nate to the visit. Wonder when they’d hear the heartbeat? Can’t ask the nurse because she probably already said it. Carmen could Google it later. So far Google had been as helpful as the medical professionals.

  “So if there are no more questions, I’ll send the doctor in for your exam, and then you’ll be free to go grow a baby.”

  Sounded easy enough.

  “I wanted you to know I’m going to have a talk with my mom after dinner tomorrow night.” Nate’s voice had a hopeful ring.

  “I don’t care if you do talk to your mom. It’s not like you’re going to convince her we’re doing the right thing.” Carmen gripped the cell phone. Sunday nights after leaving him to come back to Hackensack were always the hardest.

  Nate sighed. “Listen, I know you’re not a big fan of hers. And I get why—I’m not a huge supporter right now either. Just…um…just try to be a little more forgiving. She’s a good person, deep down. She only wants the best for me. And she’s my mom. We’re stuck with her.”

  “Honestly, I just don’t think it’s worth trying to open her eyes right now.” Lest she get to Nate in the process. “I want to make sure we’re good and aren’t going to be swayed by her words.”

  “Us? No way. We’re fine. I’m just trying to give her the time she needs to come around.”

  “Something tells me you’ll be waiting past the time this baby starts kindergarten.”

  Nate sighed. “She’s my mom.”

  “I understand. But I think we could be married for twenty years and have four kids and she’d still see me as the Mexican girl from the slums.” Carmen swiped away a tear. Don’t cry—or at least don’t let him know you’re crying. “I’ll never be good enough for her, Nate.”

  “No one would. Trust me.”

  He hadn’t denied what she’d said though. Carmen had no hope of ever meeting Hillary McConnell’s approval. At least the judge didn’t seem as opposed to Carmen as his wife was. If only Hillary didn’t have so much influence over him, it might not be so bad.

  “Hey, I have a surprise for you this weekend—it will prove to you just how solid we are.”

  Now he was talking. “A surprise? What is it?”

  “Yeah. I’m going to tell you. I can see that happening. You’ll just have to wait. But I promise it’ll be worth it.”

  The lilt in Nate’s voice conjured his smiling face in Carmen’s imagination. Now there was the Nate she’d known all these years. Phew. “It’s a deal. I can’t wait.” Cosmo said to end phone calls on a high note. “I have to go now…dinner’s about to burn.”

  Chapter 14

  MEET ME AT THE CORNER OF MAIN AND EAST CAMDEN AT NOON TODAY.

  Carmen stood at the kitchen counter and spooned Cheerios into her mouth. She read the text message from Hillary McConnell for what had to be the hundredth time. It wasn’t even a question. More like a direct order. Who did that woman think she was to order Carmen around? If she weren’t so curious about what Hillary had to say, Carmen wouldn’t even consider going.

  Would Nate know what was going on? And if he did know, why hadn’t he clued her in last night? Carmen looked at the time on her cell phone display. Oh man. She couldn’t even ask Nate about what his mother was up to because he was in class until two o’clock. Six more hours until she had any hope of speaking with him. And the meeting would be long past.

  Had Hillary timed it to coincide with Nate’s schedule on purpose, knowing he was unreachable during class time? Or was it a lucky coincidence? Knowing her, it was no accident. She calculated every move she made. And she always came out on top. That meant Nate had no idea what his mother was doing. She was up to no good.

  Carmen’s stomach rolled. More morning sickness, or pure dread? Probably both. She hurried to the bathroom and pulled the door closed. How many hours had she logged in there that month? Carmen perched in her usual spot on the edge of the tub. Too bad Mom hadn’t left for work already so Carmen could stay there until the meeting if she had to.

  She didn’t have far to walk. Hillary could have picked an address on the other side of the tracks where the neighborhoods weren’t quite as dicey. But instead she’d chosen a location too close to where Carmen lived for it to have been a fluke. Hey, where had Hillary gotten Carmen’s address anyway? Hillary would come face-to-face with the truth about Carmen’s new life. She’d prove her worst suspicions to be fact.

  Now Carmen had to decide if she’d show up or not. It would require ditching school, but school didn’t matter much to Carmen anymore. They couldn’t do anything to her now. She’d probably go meet Hillary out of simple curiosity—she had to know what Hillary wanted. But Carmen would have to be on guard. Hillary McConnell didn’t do anything without a well-orchestrated plan that resulted in her coming out on top. And she was the type who would stop at nothing to get what she wanted. Carmen couldn’t let that happen.

  A light rap on the bathroom door jolted Carmen from her thoughts. “You okay in there? You’re going to be late for school if you don’t get moving.”

  Carmen flushed the toilet and stood up from her posture of worship at the throne of morning sickness. “I’ll be right out.” She flipped on the water and scrubbed her hands then reached for her toothbrush and toothpaste. Yuck. Barfing every morning was sure getting old.

  As she brushed, Carmen inspected her splotchy face in the mirror. She’d have to raid Mom’s Mary Kay bins before she left the apartment so small children didn’t shy away in horror at her ghostlike appearance. Maybe it was time to ask for her own set of the good makeup—not that cheap stuff she sometimes used. Mom would jump at the chance to see Carmen all glammed out.

  Poking her head out the doorway, Carmen looked both ways. Best to avoid Mom if at all possible because, unless Carmen was imagining things, Mom had been looking at her funny lately.

  Now, where was Mom?

  Click. Click. Click. The stove’s gas flame must have caught. Someone flipped on the faucet in the kitchen and let the water run. Sounded like Mom was bustling in there, which meant Carmen could sneak out of the bathroom without any conversation. She slipped from her spot in the doorway and hurried into Mom’s bedroom then jogged to the dresser where Mom put on her face every day.

  Falling to her knees, Carmen lifted the lid on a Rubbermaid bin and fumbled through more bottles of promise and tubes of hope than any one person could use in a lifetime. Got to love the Mary Kay discount. Carmen knocked over the one tub missing a lid, and a cloud of powder puffed to her face. Sputtering, she swiped the plume away and reached for the foundation. Where were those little wedge spongy things?

  Ah-ha. Carmen reached into a Ziploc bag, pushed aside the gunky used sponges, and grabbed a clean one. She tried to squirt the makeup onto the edge, just like she’d seen Mom do, but nothing came out of the almost-empty tube. Carmen rolled the end like a tube of toothpaste and held the hole up as she squeezed.

  In a quick spurt, the makeup shot out over the wedge, dripped down to the avocado countertop, and splattered on the gold rug.

  Oh no. Not now. Nothing ever went smoothly for her.

  Carmen grabbed a handful of cotton balls to tackle the oily stains on the rug. No. She’d have to deal with the mes
s later. Sopping the sticky makeup off the Rubbermaid lid with one hand, she shoved the tubes back into the bin.

  Perfection was way too much work. It didn’t matter. Nate liked her better without a lot makeup anyway. But he hadn’t seen her in a while. Would he still feel the same now that she’d taken on that pregnancy glow—which didn’t seem as lovely as people always claimed it was? What about when she got all fat? Would he still think she was beautiful?

  On the street in front of the nail salon below their apartment, Carmen glanced in both directions. She could turn right and walk toward Giant Farmers’ Market, or she could turn left and make her way toward the assigned meeting location to scope it out.

  She had no money for food, so the market would be depressing. She felt through the pockets and crevasses in her Gucci bag. Her fingers closed on a handful of coins. Plenty for a cappuccino at Java’s Brewin’. Should she even drink stuff like that right now? Wasn’t there some rule about pregnant women not drinking caffeine? Well, one cup couldn’t hurt anything. Could it? Besides, a lot of girls didn’t even find out they were pregnant until they were much further along. Surely they had coffee and did all sorts of things before they knew.

  The cracks in the sidewalk passed by under her feet, and Carmen took no care to avoid them. It wasn’t like she wanted to break her mother’s back or anything, but those days of reciting rhymes and thinking some silly move would affect some sort of big change in someone else’s life were long over. Took more than stepping on a crack to get anyone’s attention these days.

  Carmen spoke into her phone, “Call Nate.” Argh. Right to voice mail. He must still be in class. “Hey, I need to ask you something. If you get this between classes, call me, okay? All I need is a minute, and it really can’t wait. Thanks. Love you. Bye.”

  Cool. Carmen spied an ornate stone structure across the street. Johnson Public Library. Cool-looking building, but it probably survived on nothing but castaway books from other libraries—like the one in Briarcliff. At least she could get books there though. She could always hang out in there if she needed to kill more time after her coffee. But for now the Java’s Brewin’ sign beckoned to her from the next block.