Before we sat in the waiting area, Chelsea peed in a cup, which the receptionist lady informed her she would do every time she came, however often that would be. I could tell by the way she walked she needed to go again. “Chels, why don’t you use the bathroom again?”
“I don’t need to. I’m just excited.”
I didn’t believe her, but followed her toward the nurse waiting for us anyway.
“I’m Sandra, and I’m Doctor Koenig’s nurse. It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?” The middle-aged woman in her blue and pink polka dotted scrubs motioned us into a room. In such a short time, I heard that phrase twice. Twice! Come on, people, say something original, and if you can’t think of anything original, then anything but the weather.
I took a seat on the bench while Sandra took vitals from Chelsea. “What an exciting time!” Sandra wrote down information on Chelsea’s chart. Chelsea only smiled, and I couldn’t blame her. Her …. I don’t know what to call him, jerk would do, knocked her up. How exciting could it be, honestly? This lady needed to get her head out of her ass and smell the roses. Not every pregnancy resulted from a committed, loving relationship, and she could make things worse for an expectant mother if she kept spewing words out of her mouth without even thinking.
She pulled a blue paper sheet out of the drawer. “You can take off everything, but feel free to leave your bra on. Place this over your legs, and Doctor Koenig will be in shortly. Would you like your friend to step out while you change?”
Please, yes. “No, she’s fine.” Great.
The nurse left us alone. I kept my focus on a shelf of pamphlets covering pregnancy, STD’s and breast exams while Chelsea stripped down. I never so much as caught a glimpse of side-boob, so seeing her cooch wasn’t on my list of things to see that day. Or ever. She hopped on the table and put the sheet over her lap.
The silent room drove me crazy. “So, you’re keeping it, huh?” I blurted out. Foot. In. Mouth.
Chelsea’s mouth dropped, and the color drained from her face. “Of course I’m keeping it! I didn’t ask you here to help me decide if I should abort this child for Christ’s sake. I asked you here to support me because Daniel doesn’t know yet, so he can’t.”
Of all the times stupid shit came out of my mouth, this topped the cake. “I’m sorry. It’s just that he’s engaged. Can you do this on your own?” This time I chose my words with sincerity. Chelsea needed to come terms with the fact if Daniel didn’t step up (he wouldn’t), single motherhood masked her future.
“Who said I planned to do it on my own? Even if Daniel doesn’t come around, my parents aren’t going to turn me away.” She placed her hand on her belly. “This is their grandchild. Their first grandchild. And I have you …. I hope.”
Could I be wrong about her? Did she have it all figured out? I needed to give her the benefit of the doubt. She wasn’t a teenager making horrible choices. Of course, in all honesty, her choices as an adult weren’t the best, either. Who was I to judge? I ended up with the same kind of guy. I dumped him right away, while she went into the relationship well aware the guy was a cheater. Did that make me better or smarter than her?
“I’m sorry, Chels. I guess I’m not sure how to handle all this.”
“And I do?” She pressed her hands against her chest. She made a point.
“You’re right.”
“Good. I like to be right.”
With that, the doctor entered the room, a tall, slender woman with blond hair just past her shoulders, and clearly in need of some work on her roots. If not for the grays, I would have guessed she wasn’t much over thirty, but probably was actually in her early forties. “I’m Doctor Koenig. Glad to meet you, Chelsea.” She glanced over at me. “Friend? Partner?”
“Friend. I’m Ally.”
“Hi Ally, it’s wonderful for you to be here to support your friend.” She then ignored me and started talking to Chelsea about her medical history, as well as the father’s, which Chelsea couldn’t be more clueless about. She promised Dr. Koenig she would get as much information as possible before the next visit, which would be in four weeks. “Let’s get to that ultrasound!”
Sandra rolled a large machine in, which to me looked like a computer from 1990. It had a humongous keyboard and what I could only describe as an outrageously large dildo attached to it, but that couldn’t be right. “Since you’re not too far along, the best way to measure how the baby is doing is with a vaginal ultrasound. I’ll utilize this and we should be able to see the heartbeat and all that fun stuff.”
This doctor annoyed me with her perkiness, but I sensed Chelsea was in good hands, which was the most important thing.
The nurse dimmed the lights and I flinched as the doctor shoved the wand up Chelsea’s hooha. The cringes in her face spoke worlds of Chelsea’s discomfort, but when the black and white picture came on the screen and Dr. Koenig pointed to a blob and a flashing light labeling it the heartbeat, Chelsea’s face loosened and tears began flowing. “There’s your baby.” The doctor’s long, slender finger pointed to the blob. I wanted to think it only as a blob, a measly little blob, but that flashing little light told me different. It was a baby … a baby grew in my best friend’s tummy, and soon, she would be a mom. A mom. Here I was, trying my best not to embarrass myself in front of a guy I just met, attempting to get a promotion at a job I didn’t like, and my best friend was growing a fricking person inside of her. If there existed a time in my life I felt a complete loser, this was it.
“Congratulations, Chels.” I said the words, not sure I meant them.
----------
After the appointment, we arrived at work at ten-thirty, to a surprisingly busy office. Did everyone pick today to do their banking? I rushed to my station and greeted the first customer. A few money exchanges and short conversation later, the next customer approached.
“Seth.”
“Yep. In the flesh.”
We hadn’t spoken since our date, or rather since I humiliated myself by being a total wimp on the rock climbing wall. Two days after, he sent me a text, but I never replied. Clearly, he had something, or someone, to hide from me, and I didn’t deal with that kind of drama. “How can I help you? I didn’t realize you bank here.”
“I don’t.”
His hair, combed back and neat, shined under the harsh office light, and his dark shirt brought out something in his eyes. Probably guilt. No matter how I tried to deny it, I wanted to kiss those lips. I couldn’t, though. After I ignored the first text, I made the decision to put the kibosh on it. Kaput. This thing between Seth and I, if anything existed, wasn’t going to happen. It was done. Over. “So why are you here?” I pretended to type on my keyboard.
“You never texted me back. You got my text, right?”
“Yes, I got it.”
“I’m not quite sure what happened. I hoped to go out again.”
Two choices presented themselves; I either lie through my teeth and make up some excuse about how I’m not ready for a relationship right now, or tell the truth and let him know I figured out his cheating game. I'm not a player. I stopped my fake typing and looked him straight in the eyes. “My ex-fiance cheated on me, and from your conversation with Mike, I gather you’re already involved. I’m not about to go down that road again. I don’t condone cheating.”
His dark eyes softened. “Ally, I’m not sure what gave you the idea I’m involved with someone, but I’m not. Anymore. I’m divorced. About two years now.”
Divorced. The possibility of a broken marriage never even crossed my mind. Yep, pin a sign with the word “IDIOT” on my back. “Mike started to say something and you cut him off. I thought you were hiding something. Can you explain that?”
He shook his head. “It’s complicated.”
“How is it complicated?” Things either were or weren’t. Complications didn't exist in my world.
He scratched his eyebrow with his index finger. “This isn’t anything I want to get into right now, and I’m not read
y to discuss it yet. I’m not with anyone, though, Ally. I’m single.”
“Oh.” Without even turning around, I sensed Daryl watching me. He hated when we socialized during business hours. I swore he got off on writing people up, but I never was yet, and didn’t want to start now. I needed to wrap up this conversation. “Well, I’m glad to hear that. I really need to get back to work.” I peered around him, ready to call “Next” to the person behind him.
“Wait. Don’t you want to go out again? I had a nice time.”
“You did?”
“You didn’t?”
“No, it’s not that. I did, well, until I thought you were a cheating jerk. But, didn’t I kind of screw things up when I freaked out on the rope?” I couldn’t imagine he wanted to date someone who couldn’t climb up a measly wall while securely strapped.
My knees buckled when he grinned at me. “Are you kidding? Despite what you think, you’re adorable when you freak out. Secondly, that would be a dumb reason not to go on another date with you.”
He considered my dread of heights amusing, cute. How should I take that? Calling me adorable was a compliment, I guess, and I did want to see him again. And again. And again. I figured he lost interest in me the second he realized what a chicken I was.
“So, what do you say? We can do something a little less risky if you want.”
Something more my style. I knew the perfect thing for us to do. “Fishing.”
“Fishing.”
“Yes, fishing. Is that weird?”
“Not at all. I just never figured you for the fishing type.”
“Surprise. I’ll meet you at the B&B Sunday morning at six.” I could go visit my dad after our fishing expedition.
His eyes widened. “Six in the morning?”
“Yeah. Problem with that?”
“No. It’s just a little early.”
“Well, I’ll be there at six to get you. If you’re not there, then I guess I’m on my own.” I peeked behind him at the next customer. “Excuse me, but if I don’t help the next in line, I’ll never hear the end of it from my boss.”
He tapped his knuckles on the counter. “Understood. See you Sunday.”
CHAPTER TEN
The rest of the workday I spent daydreaming about my date with Seth. Another date with Seth! Sure, he came to me, but I basically asked him out. I came up with fishing, therefore, my idea. Awesome. Still, his conversation with Mike confused me. Why did he act so secretive about his cache? What did it mean? I didn’t get the impression the cache replicated the ones I found so far, small containers with a simple log sheet. This held more meaning than the ones I found. My mind worked overtime trying to figure out the mystery. A completed Rubix cube? (Perhaps he belonged to Mensa.) A Chicago Bears jersey and he didn’t want me to have him arrested for being a Bears fan instead of Packers? Oh! I bet he loved One Direction as much as me and he stashed an iPod Nano (did people still have those?) with all their songs loaded in some place meant only for a super stealth spy. Doubtful, but how cool would that be? Possibly a thumb drive with a sex video? No, caches needed to be kid-friendly. My imagination went wild, until my idea well ran dry. I wanted to find out, but my resources were limited. No mutual friends connected us, and I didn’t exactly fit the profile of Nancy Drew. I didn’t know how to be discreet in my questioning. On our second date, I couldn’t come out and ask if he had a super-secret cache he hid from me. I already labeled him a cheater with no evidence to support my hypothesis, and accusing him of anything else risked damaging any potential relationship between us.
I logged on to the geocaching site and poked around for a while in the message boards, thinking a post or a user name would catch my eye. I hoped to find a user with a name that played on the term bed and breakfast or rock climbing, but nothing grabbed my attention. The only option I thought may work meant finding all the geocaches hidden in town. While doable, such a thing would take too much time, and even so, the cache may not even be in town. There were too many places to search. Of course, more of the possibility existed that I obsessed over this for nothing.
I decided to give it some time and naturally work my interrogation into a conversation. I still wanted to peek around online in case I came up anything. When I searched in my area, a lot of cemetery caches came up, among four cemeteries scattered throughout town. For such a small community, we sure buried a lot of people. What would someone hide in a cemetery? If not a simple container with a log sheet inside, what else could it be? People left things sometimes when they found a cache, but I couldn’t think of one thing I would want to leave in a cemetery. What if Seth were some sort of weird freak and hid something in a grave? No. That couldn’t be. I shivered the thought out of my mind.
The site showed a lot of caches around City Hall as well, with titles welcoming people to the community, or about discovering the town’s history. I knew Seth ran the bed and breakfast; however, what if he aspired to be a politician, and buried a deep, dark past in the cache? Probably not. Oh! Perhaps he moonlighted as a newspaper writer and he cleverly created a newspaper log. That would be pretty cool. Hm. Nothing to keep a secret, though. I just about drove myself insane trying to figure out this puzzle, when I realized there wasn’t any reason not to just ask him, when the doorbell saved me from my outrageous thoughts.
Chelsea headed to her parent’s house immediately after work to tell them about her pregnancy (finally), so I didn’t expect anyone, especially as it neared seven-thirty. Wow, when did it get so late? For most people my age, late didn’t roll around until the wee hours of the morning, but I loved my sleep. And, I spent so much time online, I completely forgot to eat dinner. I shut my laptop and hopped down the stairs. My stomach dropped when I pulled the curtain over the window of the door to the side and saw Josh standing on my porch.
I sighed and opened the door. His brown hair exploded in a mess, and stuck straight up with newly blond tips. Scruff outlined his cheeks and under his nose. His puny eyes were bloodshot. “What the hell do you want?”
“Ally, hi.”
Both frozen, our familiar eyes focused on each other, and every moment that passed, the past hit me again and again, punching me in the stomach, tearing through my heart. For a split second I wanted to check my hair, smooth my skirt since I never bothered to change out of my work clothes, and straighten my stance, but then I remembered who stood in front of me. Josh. The heartless jerk who cheated on me for months, maybe even years, planted himself on my porch, and he still didn’t tell me what he wanted. “It’s late, Josh. Out with it. There’s not one reason I can even remotely think of for us to speak to each other.”
He broke his eyes from mine, glancing behind my shoulder. “Can I come in?”
“I doubt it. Anything you need to say to me, you can say standing on my porch.” Despite what my sarcasm and up front attitude portrayed, my heart was big, and easily broken. Other people’s emotions and reactions tugged at me, and the obvious state of discomfort Josh drowned in even got to me. “Where’s Kandace, anyway?”
“We broke up.”
Can’t feel sorry for him, I told myself. Don’t show sympathy. “Oh, I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m sure she caught you in your cheating ways. I mean, you did meet her while engaged to me.”
His stare lingered, and his eyes clouded over. For a moment I thought he might cry, but, then I remembered, Josh never cried. “I deserve that.”
“No. You don’t deserve anything.” I wanted to say those words for the longest time. Shit, it invigorated me. After Josh and I broke up, I realized I should be more straightforward with my thoughts and feelings. Yes, my mouth got me in trouble sometimes, and, of course, some mistook my honesty for bitchiness or downright lack of emotion. The truth was, though, I cared too much, and I always got hurt, and now, I refused to be shy about my thoughts on Josh.
“Ally, she actually cheated on me.”
“That you deserve. Although I can’t see how it even would bother you.” It’s true. I imagined Josh
and his entourage of girlfriends plenty of times having orgies and inviting everyone they knew into them. Why stop with one fiancee and a girlfriend, when he could hook up with the entire block?
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Can I come in? I want to talk.”
I didn’t want to let him in, but I couldn’t look past the fact he pleaded to talk, and begging didn’t fit his normal behavior. Josh also, unfortunately, was my kryptonite. After dedicating so much of my life to him, leaving him terrified me. When I threw him out, I swore to myself to never let him step another foot into the apartment, deep down knowing I’d probably cave. I thought of my brother, Perry, who never liked Josh. He always made his hatred toward him loud and clear to be sure I heard them. My brother loved me, and only wanted the best for me. He’d never forgive me if I allowed Josh to treat me like shit and cheat on me, and I valued my brother’s acceptance more than Josh’s, so I gathered up all my courage the night I sent him packing, and it never felt better. I’d be lying if I said I never wished for one night of crazy sex after we broke up, and inviting him into my house may inevitably lead to that.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea, Josh. Please tell me what you came here for. I still haven’t eaten dinner.”
“You never eat this late.” I gave him the watch he wore. In fact, I spent a ton of money getting it engraved. I couldn’t believe he still wore it, unless he had the inscription removed, if that was even possible. Not a moment passes when I am with you. It always felt that way with him. Until I realized I wasted those moments.
“Maybe I do now.”
He cleared his throat, which always annoyed me. I didn’t realize it at the time we were together, but now whenever someone cleared their throat, I wanted to rip it out. “Kandace … well, I thought I loved Kandace.”
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