The Pregnancy Test (The Marin Test Series Book 3)

by Amanda Aksel

  I tensed my grip around the coffee cup and swallowed hard. “What?”

  “The closer we got to the wedding the more I felt the urge to have a baby, which you know is something I never wanted. And so I avoided conversations with you sometimes because I didn't want it to fuel this desire that is so out of character for me. But then Noom and I talked about it and decided that we wanted to have kids. I wish we had more options but it looks like adoption might be it. Which is great, but . . .”

  “But what?”

  “I know you haven't gotten pregnant as soon as you were hoping, but you've been to the doctor. There's nothing wrong with you. You will get pregnant eventually and . . . I, I never will.” She dropped her head.

  “Oh, Holly,” I said, placing my hand on hers.

  “Telly is one thing, but you're my best friend. And I'm so sorry that I'm saying this, but watching you on this pregnancy journey is harder on me than I thought. I'm jealous. Like legitimately jealous, and I've never had any begrudging feelings about you ever until now.”

  “I had no idea you felt this way. Plus, it’s not just you. I've been so busy at work that I didn't really notice how little we've talked until now.” I loved Holly so much that I almost wanted to stop trying for a baby just to stop hurting her. But we weren't kids anymore. And this wasn’t us disagreeing over who would marry JTT. Would having a baby put a permanent wrench in our friendship? “I’m sorry,” I said.

  “Look, don't be sorry. It's not your problem. It's my problem and I'm doing better now. It's just so hard when you want something so bad and it's impossible for you to have it.”

  I wanted to tell her that I could relate since we still had never gotten pregnant. Ever. But the difference was that all my parts worked and there was still a good chance that we could make a baby, even a chance that my body was home to a little fetus right now.

  “Did you get on the adoption list?” I asked, hopeful.

  “Yeah, it's a year-and-a-half waiting list.”

  My eyebrows rose to the middle of my forehead. “Really? In the States?”

  “Ethiopia,” she said.

  “Well,” I started, leaning back on the bench. “If all goes well, we'll be new mothers at the same time. And I need you around when I have a baby. I couldn't do it any other way.”

  She placed her arm around my shoulders and pulled me in. Her hair smelled of homemade juniper and mint shampoo.

  “I swear this is heart-to-heart day or something,” I said.

  She loosened her grasp, letting me go. “What do you mean?”

  “James and I had one this morning too. I thought that he was pissed at me about last night, but it turns out that he’s pissed at David. So much that he's taking time away from him.”

  Holly faked a gag. “Ugh. Don't get me started on him. I'm sad that my sister's marriage didn't work, but I'm kinda glad he's not gonna be in the family anymore.”

  Depending on how things went with David and James, he might still end up being Uncle David to my child. I shivered at the thought.

  Holly let out a deep sigh.

  “What?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “Nothing. I'm just thinking that maybe I shouldn't go to Thailand for so long when Rachel's smack in the middle of her divorce. I've already been a bad sister.” Holly looked devastated at the idea. As much as I wanted her to stay, I could tell how badly she wanted to go.

  “No, you need to go,” I said, trying to convince both of us.

  She leaned back, giving me a funny look. “Really?”

  “Yeah,” I let out, a little too high-pitched for honest. “It's important to you and even though we didn't react well to the news, we want you to do what's best for you. Rachel will be fine. I'll be here for her.”

  She nodded. “Thank you for saying that. I don't want to be away from you girls either, but I appreciate your support. I really do.”

  “Just bring me back some more of those rayon harem pants. I love those!”

  She rolled her eyes and giggled. “Sure.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Telly Tells All

  Telly didn’t answer any of my calls the following week. Instead she’d text me saying that she wasn’t avoiding me and was crazy busy with two huge divorce cases. I begged to visit her, even if it were only during her lunch break, and she offered a couple hours on Friday night at her place.

  That Friday, she opened the door, a dishrag thrown over her shoulder and a smearing of something spit-up colored on her black sweater. “Hey, come in!” She waved me on and I followed her into the kitchen, where Leo sat in his high chair bubbling food with his mouth and smacking his hands on the plastic table. The chatter of the newscast streamed on her tablet, which was safely propped up on the counter across from her.

  I slipped my purse off of my shoulder and pulled out one of her kitchen chairs. “Are you sure this isn't a bad time?”

  “No, no. I'm glad you're here. I just need to feed him and get him to bed.” She wiped his mouth with his bib that read, Don’t drop me, my mommy’s a lawyer.

  “Where did you get that bib?” I asked.

  “Oh, this mediator who thinks I’m a ballbuster,” she said, brushing it off.

  “Isn't it a little late for him to be eating? It's seven p.m.” I did my best not to sound like I was judging her parenting style. Sometimes she sought advice and other times she hated any suggestion on how to raise her son.

  She sighed. “Yeah, but I feel like I never see him and eating dinner is a really important part of being a family. At least, that's what my dad taught me.”

  Telly rarely spoke of her father and even more seldom spoke of her mother who was hit by a car when Telly was not much older than Leo. “So where's your dinner?” I asked.

  She pointed to a glass of wine on the counter next to the tablet. “You want some?”

  I waved my hand, then placed it on my belly. “I think I'm okay.” While she stuffed soft orange baby food in Leo's half-closed mouth, I got up and went to her coffee cabinet. “Do you have any herbal tea?”

  “I have some chai tea.” She didn't take her eyes off of her son.

  “Nah. The caffeine will keep me up.”

  She laughed. “Remember when we could grab coffee at nine p.m. and still go to sleep that night?”

  Telly and I had been buddies for nearly a decade. I shook my head, remembering how much fun we used to have. “Yeah, I had to drink so much coffee in grad school just to stay up and study. Now one cup of green tea keeps me up. Green freaking tea!”

  “I’m thankful it keeps me up. I have so much work, and with Leo, I hardly sleep anymore.”

  There wasn’t even a hint of a shadow under her eyes. “Well, you look well rested.”

  “I have good genes and a fabulous beauty routine.” She scooped the last of what was in the small glass jar and collected the rest of the food from Leo's face with the spoon. “I think someone's getting sleepy,” she said in a somewhat maternal voice. “Leo, are you sleepy? Mommy wants to have some grown-up time with Aunt Marin.” Mommy Telly unfastened him from the chair and lifted him out of the seat. I followed her into his nursery, painted in a bright, trendy blue with little silver and white elephant accents. Pretty sophisticated for a nursery. Telly laid him on the changing table, cleaning his face with a wet wipe then his behind.

  “Does he need a bath?” I asked, watching her do her motherly duties. I couldn’t believe it but she was a pro.

  “No, Sam gave him one before I got home. He should be ready to go to sleep.” She snapped the buttons of his pajamas together, then lifted him up, giving him about fifty kisses on his cute little face. He rubbed his drooping eyes and she motioned for me to step out of the room. “I'll be out in about five minutes, okay?”

  “Sure.” I snuck out to the living room. When Leo was born, Telly bought a beautiful storage chest to hold all the toys Leo got at her baby shower and kept the baby swing and floor play pop-ups in his room. When he was first born, she did a pretty goo
d job of keeping everything clear, but when he started to crawl last summer, tidy had been taken hostage by the fourteen-month-old. Toys were stuffed in the corners of the couch, near the fireplace, which was now covered with pillows and throws. Telly's place was not ideal for baby proofing, but somehow she’d made it work.

  I picked up his rattle, stuffed animals, and soft, plastic books and put them all in their rightful place. I imagined what my living room would look like with a one-year-old. James and I had a pretty casual style. A baby's things would fit perfectly. I grabbed Telly's glass of wine from the kitchen and poured one for myself so she'd feel more like it was old times. Telly was adamant that things wouldn't change after she became a mother. She still wanted to go out and have sex, grow her law practice, meet for Sunday brunch, and travel to Europe. But things did change. How could they not? But I noticed a sense of relief in her eyes when Leo wasn't around and she could just be Telly, single and sexy. For a little while anyway.

  Telly tiptoed into the living room and I put my phone down on her unscathed glass coffee table.

  “He's asleep?” I asked.

  “Yeah, he's out.” Telly sounded exhausted. “Sam took him on a play date today.”

  I couldn't wait for my baby to have play dates with Leo. Maybe Sam could watch the baby too. How convenient would that be? “So what's going on with you? I feel like I never see you anymore.”

  “I know.” She put her head back. “It's been crazy. I don't know what I was thinking opening my own practice. If I’d known I was going to have a fucking baby, I would’ve just found someone else to work for.”

  “What's so crazy about it?”

  “I cannot keep up with the clients we have but I don’t think I can afford to hire another associate full time. I'm the boss. I have to make all the decisions. Sometimes I'm sick of being the boss. Take care of the baby, take care of the clients, pay the bills. Sometimes I want to be taken care of for a change.”

  I gave her the strangest look because it was the strangest thing I'd ever heard her say. “You mean you want to quit?”

  “Hell, no! I just need someone to carry some of this load. I'm a progressive, hardworking woman, but shit this is a lot.” She took a long sip of her merlot and smacked her lips.

  I tapped her knee. “So why don't you just marry Will? Your life would be so much easier?”

  Telly deadpanned. “Marin, I'm a divorce attorney. I don't believe in marriage.” She took another long sip from her large glass. “You're right. I need to hire another associate. Dammit!”

  “I didn't say anything.”

  She gave me a sideways glance. “I know, but you were thinking it.”

  I tucked my feet underneath me, cozying into the couch. “I was thinking that I'd really like to see you happy and in love with a man. Settled down.”

  She slouched into the sofa and balanced the wine glass on her flat tummy with her hand. “Settling down and being happy are totally different things.”

  “So what? You're just going to be single forever?” I asked.

  Telly scoffed. “Probably. I never planned on a kid cramping my style. You know, I heard they're making these lifelike sex robots. Maybe I could just get one of those.”

  I crinkled my nose. “Still no sex?” Telly was like a man, she needed it at least every week or she’d start to pull her hair out. I had the feeling she had an allotment in her budget for double-A batteries.

  “No. But like I said, the whole fuck buddy thing isn't as fun and I have no interest in a romantic relationship. But I do need to have sex.” She curled on her side, facing me. “You're a therapist, what should I do?”

  My gaze drew up to the ceiling and I tapped my finger on my chin. “Well, first we'd have to get to the bottom of why you're so afraid to get married.”

  “I told you.” She pointed at herself. “Divorce attorney.”

  I looked at her as if she were one of my patients. Not that I wanted any more. “It's more than that.”

  Her dark-brown eyes looked into mine and she looked like she wanted to say something, but she abruptly sat up and shook her head. “Okay, I don't want to play this game anymore. Maybe I'll go on a date or something.”

  “Do you have anyone in mind?” I said, taking a fake sip from my wine glass. Mmm, I missed merlot.

  “No, I've already slept with all the guys that I wanted to. And I don’t have time to meet any new ones except other attorneys, which is not a great idea.” Her perfectly waxed eyebrow shot up. “I thought you weren’t drinking alcohol.”

  “I’m not really drinking. It’s for show. So you feel normal. And I take the test next week so . . . as you lawyers say, the jury’s still out.”

  “Whew!” she said, pretending to wipe sweat from her forehead.

  “What about online dating?” I asked.

  “Online—” She couldn't even get the words out. “Telly Torres doesn’t date online.”

  “Well, maybe the old Telly didn't, but the new Telly should consider it. You know, for little Telly,” I said, pointing my finger between her thighs.

  She sipped her wine, giving me the death-stare. “Anyway . . . if you know any divorce associates who work for cheap, send ‘em my way.”

  I smiled and took a sip from my glass. Only one. “Okay.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The Jury’s Back

  Today was the day. The day we'd answer the question, did the IUI work? My hands shook as I lined my lids with a dark-brown eye pencil. Long, slow breaths ebbed and flowed from my lungs. In and out. In and out. The truth was that I didn’t feel pregnant. I had no evidence. Just a small knowing. I reminded myself that on December 31st I was almost certain that I was pregnant but the test that rung in the New Year was not positive. So maybe my instincts were swapped and feeling pregnant was bad and not feeling pregnant was good. Okay, I knew that made no sense, but it was the only way I could handle the pressure of the impending results.

  “You almost ready?” James asked from the doorway of our bathroom.

  “Just about.” I leaned toward the mirror. My eyeliner was a little crooked but I didn’t care. No matter the results, I’d surely have smudged mascara from tears of joy or, God forbid, tears of devastation.

  The moment my hands were free, he grabbed one and spun me into him, laying a big, wet kiss on my mouth.

  “You're really excited, huh?” I asked, wishing I could be as carefree as James.

  “Oh yeah. Aren't you?” He gave me a tight squeeze and I could feel my body relax a little in his grasp like a swaddled baby or a dog in one of those anti-anxiety shirts.

  “I am,” I said, trying to sound enthusiastic. “Just a little nervous. What if it didn't work?”

  He pulled away and pouted his lip, same as mine. “But what if it did? I have a feeling it worked.”

  “Well, why didn't it work when we were making love like normal couples?” I whined.

  He pulled me again and whispered in my ear. “Maybe because we kept doing that other position you like so much.”

  I giggled and gave him a playful shove. “Let's find out if you're right.”

  The closer we got to Dr. Pia's office, the more my heart raced. I almost fainted when they took my blood sample for no other reason than I clearly couldn’t handle my shit. James and I waited in Dr. Pia's office for a good ten minutes before she showed up. We struggled to keep the conversation casual, discussing weekend plans that only consisted of housework and grocery shopping. James may have arrived without jitters, but the longer we sat, the more his leg bounced, faster and faster like he wanted to run.

  The door opened and we whipped our heads around. Dr. Pia glanced at us with her usual greeting smile. “Good morning!”

  “Good morning,” James and I replied.

  “Did you both have a nice weekend?” she asked, keeping her eyes focused on her tablet. While she read our results, I struggled to read her blank expression that could’ve gone either way. I swear doctors’ faces are as straight as lawyers'.r />
  “Yeah,” I said.

  “How about you?” James asked and I shot him a sideways look. This was no time to chat about the weekend, or the weather, or any other bullshit talk. This woman held the answer to our future in her hands!

  Dr. Pia took her seat behind the desk. “It was great! My husband and I went out on the boat and it was freezing! I don't know what we were thinking.”

  I don't either, but I do know that I'm thinking about our results and she should too.

  James let out a slight chuckle. “That's funny.”

  It wasn't funny. What was funny was the fact that we had been sitting there with her for exactly sixty seconds and we still didn't know if I was pregnant or not. I squeezed his hand, hoping he would get the hint to keep his mouth shut. He did and as soon as the room fell silent, I heard it again. That damn ticking. Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick!

  Dr. Pia leaned on the desk and intertwined her fingers. “So your pregnancy test came back negative.” She paused and I held my breath, understanding her words but trying to reconcile them in my head. “I'm so sorry, but the IUI was unsuccessful this time.”

  I was silent for a long moment, dropping my gaze to my hands resting quietly on my lap. It was as if all twelve negative pregnancy tests were combined into one disappointing declaration from the doctor. James took my hand and held it tightly in his, saying nothing.

  “What went wrong?” I asked, lifting my chin and meeting her green eyes, which lacked their usual sparkle in that moment. Delivering bad news couldn’t have gotten easier.

  “Nothing,” she said. “Everything went smoothly. Your labs looked good. The insemination was textbook. Sometimes it just doesn't take.”

  Not just sometimes, but for us it seemed like it never took. I’d read enough on the reproductively challenged forums to know that we were likely beginning our journey down the long road called Fertility Treatment Lane.

  “What should we do now?” James asked and I could tell by his tone that he was even more surprised than me, but just as devastated. I glanced at him and he gave me that same sad, sorry look he did the morning after my birthday dinner. I hoped he didn’t think it was his fault.