by Magan Vernon
“I’m sure you’ll find something,” he said, screwing the cap on his thermos.
“Or I’ll be a professional barista while you’re running the country.”
He shook his head, setting the thermos down and slowly walked toward me. He wrapped his arms around my waist, pressing his forehead to mine. “What’s with the negativity this morning? It’s your first day of work, and even though it’s not your dream job, keep your chin up. It’s a tough economy out there and we both just graduated. You’ll find something you love eventually and until then you have me to love you.”
I smiled, putting my hands on his shoulders. “Did anyone ever tell you that you have a way with words,” I whispered into his lips.
“I think my gorgeous fiancée may have told me that once or twice.” He placed a quick kiss on my lips as if he was sealing the words. “I’m never going to get tired of calling you that. Fiancée. Fiancée. Fiancée.”
I leaned back before he could kiss me again. “I think it will be better when it’s ‘wife’. We do need to get a date planned. It’s been a few weeks now.”
He sighed, letting go of me and stepping back. “I know, I know. Things are just crazy right now with the campaign. It’ll be less stressful after November, or maybe more so when Dad gets elected.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “So, we just keep putting it off until January if he gets elected? By that time everything will be booked. Half the places I’ve seen online book their location almost two years in advance.”
He smiled that charming, dimpled smile. “Monica, you worry too much. Maybe this job will take your mind off of things instead of trolling wedding websites all day.”
I scoffed. “I do not troll wedding websites all day.” Okay, that was a total lie. My search engine was full of them. I never thought I’d be the type of girl to gush over a wedding, but there was something about the allure of planning a wedding that had me giddy. Especially since my best friend, Melanie, was marrying Trey’s fraternity brother, John, in a month and I’d been planning her bachelorette party for that weekend since her sister was too pregnant to even thinking about binge drinking and dancing.
He placed a chaste kiss on my forehead before grabbing his briefcase and thermos off the counter. “You can say whatever you’d like, but I’ll be the first admit that I’m excited to be married to you as well.” He squeezed my hand. “And I promise we’ll sort out the details soon, okay?”
“Promise?” I asked.
“Promise.” He kissed me again. “I’ll see you tonight, okay? I have to get to the office and you probably need to get to work as well. You don’t want to be late for your first day.”
I let out a puff of air through my nose. “Yeah. I know. I’ll see you tonight.”
“Bye, Monica.” He kissed me again and then was out the front door, leaving me alone, again, in our expensive kitchen where I’d spent way too much time.
Resentment was too strong a word for how I felt about living in a very nice apartment in downtown Chicago. Hatred wasn’t right either. Maybe indifference? It wasn’t mine. Trey’s parents got it for him and reluctantly agreed I could live here even though having their golden boy son living with his liberal girlfriend sort of ruined the whole image. My parents were against it until he put a ring on my finger then they really couldn’t protest.
I walked through the living room and stared out the French doors to the street below. The apartment was everything that decadence should be and I felt like a stranger in my own home. I’d put my own personal touches in it with some framed pictures Trey and me and I was able to put my old comforter and bedroom stuff in the guest bedroom, but it wasn’t the same. I was hoping maybe it would start to feel like a home eventually. But I couldn’t dwell on it anymore. After a month of being unemployed I was finally working and I was going to be late if I didn’t get my ass in gear.
The coffee shop that hired me was in one of fancy hotels on the Magnificent Mile. It was a few blocks walk from the apartment and I barely made it in five minutes before I was supposed to be there. The lobby was all marble with a grand staircase that had an older gentleman playing piano on the second floor landing. Too much grandeur for me. I was used to slinging coffee to hungover college students.
I made my way through the lobby and was ready to approach the coffee bar when a wave of nausea hit me. Shit, I couldn’t be getting sick. There was something about the smell of grounds and the milk that had been sitting out for customers, that turned my stomach. I stopped and took a step back, covering my mouth.
No. No. No. Don’t throw up, Monica. Don’t throw up.
I took a deep breath in through my mouth. Maybe I was just hungry. I’d skipped breakfast because I was busy getting ready. Yeah. That had to be it. I’d try to scarf down a muffin or something on my break and I’d be fine.
I exhaled, shook my shoulders and marched over to the counter where a guy who looked about my age with a full sleeve of tattoos, gauges in his ears and spiky hair, was staring under the counter. On closer inspection it looked like he was trying to hide his phone.
“Ahem,” I said, clearing my throat.
He gasped and quickly stuffed his phone into his pocket, looking up at me with bright blue eyes that could have been contacts they were so blue. “Sorry, how can I help you?”
“I’m the new employee, Monica Remy. Here to start..” I said.
He let out a deep breath, shaking his head and smiling. “Geez, you scared me. I’m Nate. Sorry about that. I was...uh..”
“Checking your Facebook?” I cocked an eyebrow. The one that used to be pierced and still hadn’t fully closed up. Part of me wanted to put the ring back in it, but I didn’t think Governor Chapman would appreciate that at all the political functions.
“Actually it was Instagram, but close enough.” The smile broadened on his face.
“Ah, an IG fanatic. I think I can roll with that.” I smirked.
“All right, you seem cool. I guess I can get started with training you.” He motioned for me to come behind the counter.
I followed his directions and walked around a gelato case until I was standing next to him. He was definitely taller than I expected, even in a pair of Chuck Taylors. He handed me a green apron like the one he was wearing over his black t-shirt and khakis which still made him look punk, instead of the preppy way mine made me feel.
“Ever made espresso before?” he asked.
I nodded. “Yeah, I worked at a coffee shop all through college.”
“Ah, so this should be a cake walk for you then.” He laughed and pulled out a large bag of coffee beans.
I sucked in a deep breath as he opened the bag and the smell wafted up to my noise. Bile rose in my throat and I swallowed it back. “Yeah. Should be.” I forced a nod and a weak smile.
He raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? You got really white all of a sudden. Are you that nervous about working in a coffee shop?”
I swallowed hard, trying to gain my composure but my stomach was still doing somersaults. “I’m fine. Just a little queasy. I’ll just eat something on my break and I should be fine.”
“Okay, whatever you say. Just don’t vom on the job, okay? The bosses wouldn’t like that and those uppity customers would probably have a fit.”
I gave him a thumbs-up. “Can do. If I have to blow chunks, I’ll find the rest room...which I should probably find soon.”
He bit his lip. “Yeah. You should take a breather before we start.” He pointed to the right. “Go past the gift shop and mailing center and it’ll be on your right.”
I nodded. “Okay. Thanks. I’m so sorry. I really am. But I’ll be back and ready to work.”
“Okay, dude, no worries. I’m not here to judge you. Just hurry back.”
I tried not to look back as I ducked my head in embarrassment and darted around the counter, making my way toward the bathroom. I had to get my shit together. I couldn’t afford to be unemployed much longer, not that Trey was making me pay rent even when I insist
ed, but I couldn’t depend on him for everything. I was always fiercely independent, even when I was struggling. I couldn’t let some stomach issues get to me.
***
By my lunch break I was feeling a little better. I’d managed to go a few hours without upchucking at least. I planned on just grabbing a sandwich or something by myself, but then Melanie’s sister texted me and said she’d buy me lunch. I couldn’t refuse a free meal and I loved Valerie.
I walked out of the hotel lobby and inhaled the fresh air. It was nice to be away from the coffee smells and walk down Michigan Ave. Valerie was a publicist and usually worked from home, but since she was meeting a client downtown she said she’d have some time to hang out.
“Monica!” she squealed, her face lighting up as soon as she saw me approach the cafe. The girl was glowing, literally, in her bright yellow maternity dress and her long blonde hair framing her face. Melanie used to worry about her sister, especially after finding out that the chick woke up married to a male stripper in Vegas, but after three years and being on their second kid together, nobody worried about them anymore.
“Hey, Val!” I gave her a hug, holding my breath to not inhale all of her perfume. My stomach protested and I gently pulled away.
“Are okay?” She cocked an eyebrow.
“Yeah. I think I’m just coming down with something,”
“That sucks, especially on your first day of work.”
“Tell me about it,” I grumbled and took the seat across from her. “Every time my co-worker opens a bag of coffee I have to run to the bathroom.”
“That sounds like me when I was pregnant with Sophia. Is there something you want to tell me?” She cocked an eyebrow.
I shook my head, grabbing my menu. “If you’re asking if I’m pregnant, the answer is hell no.”
“Hey, I was just asking. You didn’t have to get snippy.”
“I’m not being snippy!” I glanced over the menu but nothing sounded appealing at all. I’d already thrown up the oatmeal I had on my break and didn’t want another repeat. Maybe lighter was better.
“You even have the attitude of a hostile pregnant woman,” she muttered.
I scowled. “Seriously? Are you going to do this all through lunch?”
“Probably.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Well, prove me wrong and take a pregnancy test then,” she said.
“What the hell? No, I’m not doing that.”
“Why?” She raised her eyebrows. “Scared it’s gonna be positive?”
“If I take the damn test will you shut up?”
She smiled. “Maybe.”
***
Going into a pharmacy to get a pregnancy test is akin to sneaking into your parent’s liquor cabinet: you feel like you’re doing something wrong and going to get caught at any moment. It would have been better if I could have been stealthy but I had a waddling pregnant woman with me and every time her flip flops made a noise I thought it was someone else following me. It was a stupid idea to get the test, but the only way she would shut up.
“How do I even know what kind to get?” I whispered, staring at the array of different kinds.
“Get a multi-pack,” Valerie said.
“Why? I only plan on doing this once.”
She grabbed a box of three tests and handed it to me. “Just trust me. You’ll want extra.”
I exhaled. “Whatever you say. Let’s just get this over with so I can scarf down some lunch before going back to work.”
We went up to the register and I paid before getting the key to the restroom. I guess they didn’t trust people in pharmacies in downtown Chicago, so I had to unlock it.
“I’ll be right out here,” Valerie said, leaning against the wall.
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” I asked.
“Does it?”
I shrugged. “Whatever. I’ll be out soon.”
I opened the door to the tiny bathroom. At least it was clean, if outdated, with the beige laminate floor and yellowing white walls. There was a toilet directly to my left with a tiny sink and mirror to the side.
I pulled out the pregnancy test out of the bag and opened one of the sticks, reading the directions on the box. Okay, now all I had to do was pee on the stick and wait.
I unzipped my pants, pulled them down with my underwear and sat on the toilet. I really should have covered it with something, I realized only after I felt something wet on my butt. What the hell was with hoverers? People shouldn’t hover unless they could aim their stream.
I ripped the package open and took the cap off the little pee stick, holding it underneath me. I had to pee so bad that morning, but now there was absolutely nothing. Shit.
“Water. Oceans. Waterfalls. Shhhhh. Shhhhh. Running water. Shhhhh,” I whispered to myself. Still nothing.
I used my free hand and turned the water on in the sink, listening to it hit the basin and prayed for something. Anything. I just needed a little pee to get it going and then after two minutes I could prove I wasn’t pregnant. Then I could take some Tums or something for my stomach.
When I felt the first trickle of pee I wanted to jump for joy, but that wouldn’t have worked since I had to aim for the stick. Finally. I put the cap on and set it on the sink. I wiped, flushed and went to wash my hands. While wiping my hands I thought I’d take a peek. The test said to wait two minutes, but surely I’d waited long enough. I threw away the paper towel and then stared at the stick. One word flashed back at me from the tiny screen.
Pregnant.
My breath caught in my throat and my heart beat in my ears. No. That had to be a mistake. The “Not” just needed another minute to come in.
I grabbed the box and grabbed another little pee stick. Maybe the first was a faulty one. Yeah. That’s all it was. I peed, set it on the counter and waited again.
Pregnant. Pregnant.
Two positive tests stared back at me. Maybe third would be the charm.
I sidled back on the toilet, did the pee dance and set the test on the sink. I prayed harder than I had in a long time. Harder than the last time I was in a hopeless situation in a bathroom. I closed my eyes hard, stood up and stared at the three tests. All of them said “Pregnant”.
Every hair on my body stood up, a cold chill running through me. How could this happen? We were always so careful. Trey always wore a condom.
Except the night we got engaged.
I covered my mouth as a sob escaped, the tears running down my cheeks. I knew I’d want to have children with him someday, but not today. Not before we were married. Not in the middle of his father’s election. What the hell were people going to say? Oh god, what was Trey going to say?
Eff both of them, what was I going to do? I didn’t have a real job. My insurance hadn’t kicked in yet and...and...
I looked in the mirror, staring at my tear streaked face. Then my eyes trailed down to my stomach. The stomach that was now holding the next baby Chapman. I slid my hand off of my mouth and ran it down to my stomach, placing my hand right over my belly button. Could the baby feel it?
No. No. It wasn’t a baby. I didn’t think it was even technically a fetus yet. My head was throbbing, my stomach hurting and nothing was making sense. I was in a haze and couldn’t comprehend reality. I didn’t know how long I stood there, staring at myself in the mirror before Valerie knocked on the door.
“Are you okay in there? It’s been like twenty minutes.”
I wiped my face, swallowing hard to try to regain my voice. “Yeah, I’ll be right out.”
I washed my hands again and wrapped each of the pregnancy tests in a paper towel. I picked them up, fully expecting to throw them in the waste basket, but my hand stopped. I froze, staring at those little tests in my hand. They told me what I wanted to hide was real. No matter how much I wasn’t sure I wanted it to be.
Instead of putting them in the trash, I found myself slipping them into my purse, tucking them in the pocket next to my cell p
hone. Then I sucked in a deep breath before I finally opened the door to see Valerie standing there, eating a Snickers ice cream bar.
“Really, Val?”
She shrugged. “You were taking awhile. I would have gotten you one too, but I wasn’t sure if you would be eating for two and would want more or—”
I cut off her words, grabbing her by the shoulders and pulling her around the corner by the hair dye. “Shhh!” I put my finger to my lips, even though there was no one around.
She widened her eyes. “Holy shit. It’s positive isn’t it? Your eggo is preggo!”
“Shut up!” I hissed.
She blinked, taking a bite of her Snickers. “Are you excited? Scared? What the hell is running through that red head of yours?”
“First off, it’s auburn, not red, and second off, I don’t freaking now what I’m thinking. I’m just...I don’t know.”
“Well, I have a good midwife if you need her info, and a pediatrician. Oh and we could do play dates and—”
I held up my hand, cutting off her words. “I don’t want to talk about any of that right now. I just need to get my head on straight...and get back to work.”
“Well, are you going to tell Trey? You should call him now. Or better yet, go by his office. This is probably something you should tell him in person.”
Trey.
My conservative fiancé. The one who had a freak-out the first time I bought condoms. What the hell was he going to say about all of this?
“Monica? Monica? Are you okay?”
I snapped my head back toward Valerie. “What?”
“You kind of looked like you went somewhere else there for a moment.”
I wished I could have been anywhere else.