Cliché

by Ryleigh Sloan

  “Oh, right. That’s interesting.”

  I folded my clothes and came out of the change room wondering how the heck I was going to get to the procedure room with my whole backside exposed due to the back of the gown being barely held together by two ties. I soon had my answer when Davina patted the bed.

  “Hop on, darlin’, let’s get this show on the road.”

  * * *

  I tried not to shiver but the room was so damn cold and the flimsy hospital gown really wasn’t cutting it. Getting from the bed onto the table without flashing everyone in the room my goods was a challenge, but I think I managed. I realise how ridiculous this all was since in a couple of minutes everyone was going to see my intimate bits anyway, but still, I was hanging onto my modesty for as long as I possibly could.

  Davina walked over to the bed and squeezed my hand, her hair peeking out of her scrub cap.

  “You cold, wee darlin?’” Her kind voice made my throat squeeze tight as I fought back emotions that had suddenly overwhelmed me on the short elevator ride up to the procedure room.

  I swallowed and crammed all those thoughts to the back of my mind. “I’m okay.” I knew it was a weak smile, she must have known too because she squeezed tighter and rubbed my arm with her free hand. “It’ll all be over soon, wee hen. Just think about why you’re doing it.”

  I looked over at Kim, standing with Dr. Baker next to the microscope. She was listening to what he had to say, nodding her head in rapt attention, then she peeked into the lens of the microscope. A small straw containing the embryo rested in a dish under the microscope. I knew from our appointment with Dr. Baker a couple weeks ago that Kim was required to confirm that the embryo was in the straw as well as that it was her embryo. This she would do by checking the serial number engraved on the petri dish. When she straightened up, her eyes were moist and her fingers were shaking.

  A cocktail of nerves, fear, and dread stirred within me and I felt my breathing increase. What if I failed? What if after all this I couldn’t carry her baby and her only hope of having a child died? I felt the oxygen leak from the room with every panicked breath I inhaled and pins and needles crept over my hands. I clenched and unclenched my fists and tried to tell myself to breathe slowly instead of gasping in gulps of oxygen. I felt Davina rub soothing circles onto my arm and watched Kim’s brow furrow and she made her way across the room.

  Davina turned to her and raised a hand, stopping Kim in her tracks. I watched Kim take a moment, indecision creasing her brow, but then Davina gave her a thin-lipped nod and she remained where she was.

  “What’s happening here?” Davina’s gentle face came into my line of sight, blocking me from the anxious looks I was getting from Kim.

  My heart was pounding, my hands turning cold and clammy. “I need to get out,” I whispered. “I can’t do this.”

  I looked to the exit less than ten feet away, thinking if I could just have a few minutes to myself I could get my racing heart and mind under control.

  “This is the easy part, wait till you’ve got to get it out again.” Davina’s eyes twinkled with her attempt at a joke and I felt the tears sting my eyes. She smoothed the hair back from my face and, pulling a pink lace hanky from God knows where, wiped at the tears escaping down my cheeks. “Look at me, Claire.” Her deep brown eyes met mine and the lines around her mouth deepened as she grew serious. “Fifteen percent of normal pregnancies fail, not from anything the mother does, it’s just nature. With IVF, the stats are in reverse. This, what you are doin’, is a lot to ask of your body. It’s a lot to ask of yourself. If this fails, it won’t be because of anything you’ve done. It will be that it’s not meant to be. Now I know that’s hard to hear, but you need to give yourself a break. Focus on the here and now and that no matter what, you tried. That’s more than can be said for a lot of sisters.”

  “She’s right.” Kim breached the gap to my bed and Davina startled a bit and turned to face her.

  “I apologise if I was out of line there.” Davina took a step back to allow Kim closer to the bed.

  “Not at all. I needed to hear it as much as she did.” Kim smiled at me, her eyes glistening. “I’ve been so self-absorbed that I didn’t fully understand how much I was putting on you.” Her voice strained against the words. “I’m so sorry, Claire. You agreeing to do this gives us a chance, no matter how slim. And I’ll be forever grateful to you.” She hugged me then, a tight crushing hug that calmed the tremors and stilled the panic. Her tears mixed with mine and each shuddering breath she took allowed me to fill my own lungs. Slowly she moved back, wiping my tears with the palm of her hand. “Whatever happens here today, I love you for doing this. Thank you for doing this.”

  I nodded, unable to speak past the overwhelming emotions stirring in me. Kim and I had never been close, and maybe we never would be, but in this moment I felt like a bond was forging—even if tentative.

  A gentle voice reluctantly interrupted our moment. “If you’re ready, we’d like to start the procedure now.” Dr. Baker made his way over to the foot of the bed. Another brief moment of panic surged but Kim squeezed my hand and mouthed, “Thank you,” once more.

  Davina gave my shoulder a reassuring pat and I realised she’d been there the entire time. The way she looked at me stayed my embarrassment though and I smiled at her, grateful to her for more than the comfort she’d offered and the kind words. She made her way to where the doctor was standing and shot me a mischievous smile, a moment later I realised why.

  I spent the next ten minutes in utter mortification. Once my feet were in the stirrups, my legs splayed and everything God held sacred on display for the entire room, Davina pressed a lever and the bottom of the bed fell away. Heat crept up my body like steam and I had an overwhelming urge to start giggling—a terrible habit of mine when I was uncomfortable. Looking around the room to distract myself, I watched the nurses bustling about their daily duties, none of them seeming to care about the fact that I was spread wider than a porn star. That of course made me want to giggle even more, and when I caught Kim’s eye and noted her biting her bottom lip, the dam broke. A chuckle escaped my lips and in an attempt to stifle it, I let out a mix of a donkey bray and a snort. This set Kim off and we both burst into fits of laughter. Everyone in the room turned to us with puzzled looks on their faces, all except Dr. Baker and Davina, who looked on with smiles on theirs.

  “Anyone object to some music?” Dr. Baker asked. No one did and when someone hit play, “Confident” by Demi Lovato filled the room and the atmosphere felt more like a beach party than a medical procedure.

  The microscope was moved over to the doctor’s left elbow, right next to where the ultrasound machine was set up and Kim was called for one more verification. When all was confirmed, the straw containing the embryo was attached to a large syringe full of saline.

  Before I knew it, I was watching the needle on the ultrasound. I can’t say it was painful at all, just slightly uncomfortable (not a doctor’s idea of uncomfortable when it’s south of excruciating) but an honest to goodness mild discomfort that I think was more about the pressure on my full bladder than anything else. A white splash burst across the ultrasound screen and for the first time in weeks I felt at peace. Knowing that it was out of my hands now; that I’d done all I could and that I had to just let nature take its course was a massive relief. Tears flowed freely down Kim’s cheeks and I tugged at her hand that never left mine during the whole procedure, then pulled her to me for a reclining hug. Words failed me in that moment and I hoped my embrace could convey to her how much it meant to me that she trusted me to do this for her.

  Davina called Kim over to verify that the embryo was no longer in the straw and someone put the bed up and let my feet out of the stirrups. The last few words of “Confident” rang out and I was surprised that the procedure had lasted less than the time it took to play an entire song. When they told me I could get changed I hesitated, looking to Davina for confirmation.

  She ch
uckled. “No, it’s not gonna fall out of you.” I flushed crimson as Davina walked over with a form. “This is for your pregnancy test. You can do it any time on or after day twenty-six.” By the look on Kim’s face, we’d be at the lab a minute after day twenty-five ended but I didn’t care, her enthusiasm was infectious.

  I moved off the bed, trying to take Davina at her word. I felt like I should be lying down with my legs up or standing on my head to increase my chances. Kim linked her arms with mine. “Come on, let’s go find Adam and we’ll take you to breakfast.”

  We walked out of the room to a pacing Adam, his questioning gaze flicking from Kim and I. Kim walked over to him and he pulled her in for a hug. Unable to control her emotions, she once again burst into tears.

  “How can we ever repay you for this, Claire?” Adam asked as he held Kim tighter.

  “Well, I’d say you owe me your third-born but since I’d have to carry it, let’s just say we’re even.” For a moment they both just looked at me and I was afraid my attempt at humour had gone a bit far. Then Adam started chuckling and I swear it was the first time I’d ever heard him laugh. Full of smiles, we made our way to the exit, happier than any of us had felt in weeks, none of us dwelling on the what ifs but content to just be in the moment.

  For now.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “Can you hand me a wall anchor?” I wiped the wall with the rag resting on the top rung of the ladder and traded Alison the rag for a wall anchor. Inserting the wall anchor in the hole, I climbed down from the ladder. “Last one.” I wiped the sweat from my brow with my sleeve and took a long drink of my water.

  “It’s looking so great!” Alison jumped up and down, clapping her hands and beaming. I looked around the studio. We’d spent the last three days painting the old office building which Alison had bought with the inheritance money she received from her childless uncle and turning it into a ballet studio. Alison had been dancing since she was five years old and her dream was to pass on her love of dance to other children. It was her passion but she hadn’t built up big enough classes to allow her to teach fulltime. She spent her evenings and weekends teaching and now she had her very own studio to do so in.

  “Shall we get this last one up?” I put my water bottle down and reached for one side of the mirror. Alison grabbed the other side and with the utmost care, we lifted the mirror and positioned it against the wall. Holding my side one-handed, I reached into my pocket for the screws and placed them on the ladder then pushed one through the hole in the mirror and into the wall anchor. I reached for my electric screwdriver and fixed the screw into the wall, repeating the process with the screws on the other side. I was up the ladder securing the top row of screws when my phone buzzed.

  “Your ass is vibrating,” Alison said.

  I laughed. “Would you get that for me?”

  She reached into my back pocket. “I kinda feel like I should buy you dinner or something first before I feel you up.” I laughed some more. God, it was good to laugh.

  “It’s Kevin.”

  “Put him on speaker phone.”

  Alison did and I fixed another screw to support the mirror.

  “Hey, Kev. You’re on speaker phone and Alison’s here.”

  “Hey, Claire. Hey, Alison, how’s it going?”

  “Hiya, Kevin. Claire here is playing handyman and is kindly fitting the mirrors in my studio. I even roped her into painting this weekend.”

  “Yeah? You guys didn’t think to hire a handyman to do all the work for you?”

  “Hey, I’m insulted,” I answered, my tone playfully indignant.

  His chuckle made me smile and made my heart ache at the same time. “I apologise, I know you can do a better job than any handyman out there.”

  “Damn straight,” I retorted. Kevin and I were both being overly jovial because we had an audience. We’d been speaking to each other every couple of days but the conversations were far from the easy, relaxed conversations we’d shared on a daily basis before I went to America.

  Alison placed my phone on the ladder and whispered, “I’m gonna pop next door for a milkshake. Do you want one?”

  I knew Alison was giving us privacy and despite the fact that she didn’t have to, I appreciated the gesture. “I’ll have a lime.”

  “Lime it is. Bye, Kevin.”

  “Bye, Alison and congratulations.”

  Alison left to get us milkshakes and Kevin and I chatted about what we’d both been up to over the last few days. Life on set was never boring and I loved hearing about his day but there was this giant elephant in the room and no matter how much I tried, I couldn’t bank the lingering unsettled feeling. The moment the call ended, a weight dragged me down like an anchor to a seabed. With the final screw secured, I stepped off the ladder and started packing my tools away. I suddenly felt drained of all energy and I sat on the floor, supporting my head in my hands as I wondered how long it would take before having a conversation with Kevin wouldn’t hurt.

  “Are you okay?” Alison startled me but I managed not to launch off the floor.

  “I’m fine.” She handed me the takeaway cup with my milkshake and I took a sip.

  “Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” Alison gathered the newspaper we’d laid down to protect the floor from paint splatter and stuffed them in a garbage bag.

  I knew exactly what she was talking about but played dumb. “What do you mean?”

  “Do you want to tell me why you were all smiles and rainbow dust when Kevin was on the line but the minute you cut the call you looked like your best friend died?” She looked sheepish. “I wasn’t eavesdropping, okay, shit, I was but I didn’t mean to. I thought you’d be done and then you weren’t and I wanted to give you time to compose yourself. Except I see now that telling you I wanted to give you time to compose yourself sort of negates giving you time to compose yourself.”

  One of the things I loved about Alison was her honesty. Even if she tried to stretch the truth, her bullshit meter wouldn’t let her. “It’s complicated.”

  “What isn’t?” She was right of course, and I felt myself desperately wanting to talk to someone about this.

  “I love him.” I cleared my throat and drank more of the milkshake but the crack in my voice was still evident when I spoke. “I’m trying. I really am. I keep telling myself that things will get better. That they’ll get back to the way they were…well without the…y’know…sex. But it’s not the same. There’s so much about my life that I can’t tell him. I used to tell him everything.”

  Alison remained quiet, allowing me my thoughts and I appreciated it.

  “I had IVF treatment two weeks ago. Kim can’t have children and she asked me to carry her baby. I’ve wanted to tell Kevin so many times but it’s like the words are locked in my throat and I can’t get them out.” I stood and helped Alison pick up the newspaper, needing to do something with my hands. “I’ve known Kevin all my life. All those years we did everything together, I confided my deepest secrets to him. I cried on his shoulder when guys broke my heart and now…now he’s the one who broke my heart and it wasn’t even his fault. I’m the one who fell in love. I’m the one who changed the game.” We both stopped collecting newspapers and Alison silently listened to me, her face etched with sympathy. I dumped the papers in the garbage bin and wiped the black ink stains on my paint splattered dungarees.

  I kept talking, now that the floodgates were open and everything I’d been holding in spewed out. “When I talk to him all I want is for him to tell me it will be okay but I know it won’t. How can I tell him that hearing his voice tears me apart? How can I tell him I feel like I lost my everything? Because that’s what he was to me—everything. He used to be my everything and now he’s not even my person anymore. How am I supposed to tell him I might be carrying my sister’s baby when I can’t even tell him I miss him?”

  I choked on a sob, covering my face with my hands, my chest feeling like it had gone ten rounds with a nail gun. Ali
son’s arms wrapped around me and we sank to the floor. Her arms held me tight and she rocked me gently while I cried all my tears dry. She didn’t tell me it was all going to be okay, she didn’t promise me that it would get better, that time would heal my wounds, or offer any other advice that people often felt compelled to issue in times like this. Her silence was all the comfort I needed. Relief at having gotten all that off my chest left me emotionally exhausted.

  “C’mon.” Alison stood and held her hand out to me. “We can finish this tomorrow. For now, what do you say to binge watching The Originals? If Jackson doesn’t distract you from your troubles, then nothing will.”

  “You know he dies, right?”

  Alison covered her ears. “Don’t remind me. For now, we forget that and revel in all his glorious hotness while we can.”

  I laughed and it felt good. “If we’re going to binge watch, you may as well sleep over.”

  “I’m counting on it. I’ll be having your share of wine since you might be knocked up.” She wrapped her arms around me again. “You know you’re incredible, right? I don’t know many people who would do what you’re doing for Kim.”

  I blushed. I didn’t feel incredible. I felt slightly terrified and a lot unsure.

  “Let’s go! Jackson awaits,” Alison declared, saving me from answering. I may have felt unsettled and unsure about a lot in my life right now, but one thing I was sure of is I was damn lucky to have Alison in my life.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Of all the times I’d wished to be a guy, this occasion would forever come out tops. Perched on the loo, head between my legs and the pregnancy test in hand, I tried to position the absorbent tip in my pee as per the instructions. Sounds simple enough, right? Except I soon realised that I had absolutely zero control of my stream which left me chasing my pee around while praying I didn’t actually wee on myself.

  It served me right. If I’d just stuck to the plan I’d have saved myself the trouble, but I just didn’t have the guts to sit in the waiting room of the pathology lab to await the results with Kim. My sister was on her way to pick me up. She’d called the previous evening to say she’d be here around 11 a.m. so we could go to the lab together and while I felt bad—this was her baby and she should be the first to know if she was going to be a mom or not—I just couldn’t bring myself to go into this blind.