The Pregnancy Test (The Marin Test Series Book 3)

by Amanda Aksel

  I lay on the examination table with my feet propped up in stirrups. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking and I thought I would faint at any moment.

  “Okay, Marin. How are you feeling?” Dr. Pia asked, smiling over me.

  “Good. I’m ready to be pregnant.” And I was. I really, really was.

  She nodded and took her place between my legs. “Okay, let’s put these babies back where they belong.”

  I watched the monitor as she inserted the catheter and I willed my body to keep those babies safe, thinking how ironic, and amazing, it would’ve been if I ended up with twins. After the procedure, Dr. Pia suggested that I rest for the remainder of the day, as I would likely feel tired and experience some cramping. Both were true, so I spent the afternoon horizontal, watching comedies with pregnancy plots while James went back to work. That night, I had vivid dreams about embryos, growing fetuses, and newborn babies. My subconscious was so active that I was exhausted when the sun came up. Had the exhaustion come from my body housing a baby?

  The following weekend, Telly invited me over for dinner so I could check out her new setup at Will’s place.

  “Hello, mama!” Telly said and waved for me to come in. Will’s home had more of a lived-in feel compared to the last time I’d visited just after Leo was born. “How are you feeling?” she asked and I followed her to the kitchen.

  “Pregnant, I think,” I said.

  On the granite island were two paper bags from our favorite Chinese place. She reached inside, pulling out the cardboard cartons. “So when do you take the test?”

  “In five days, nineteen hours, and oh, fifteen minutes. But who’s counting?”

  She looked embarrassed for me. “You are apparently.”

  “Okay, Ms. Telly. He's asleep,” Sam said, and I jumped at the sound of the nanny’s voice. She was dressed in long denim shorts, some sports team shirt that was either football or soccer, and a Forty-Niners hat. She looked my way. “Oh, hi!”

  “Hi, nice to see you. How's everything going with the little man?” I asked, wishing that I could go wake him up and hold him.

  “He's great! I can't wait until he’s old enough for Little League baseball practice.”

  Will sauntered into the kitchen, his hands tucked in the pockets of his dark slacks. “My son's going to play football.” He wore a fitted suit with an open-collared shirt. His brown hair was combed back with some kind of gel or pomade and he smelled of sweet musky cologne. Was he dressed up for us?

  “That kid’s so sturdy, he could play both,” Sam said.

  Telly looked at Will, then at Sam as if she wanted them to make like a tree and . . . “Thanks, Sam,” she said and took another carton from the bag. “I got you one of these. Hope you have fun tonight!”

  “Thanks, Ms. Telly. Nice to see you again,” she told me and headed for the door.

  Will looked at Telly with a level of expectation. “What? I don't get any Chinese food?” he said.

  She just glared at him. I stood there, waiting for the moment to pass and for them to fall into each other’s arms and back in love with one another. “No,” Telly said. “Don't you have a date tonight?”

  A date? And here I thought he’d put all that fragrance on for Telly.

  “Yes, I suppose I do,” he said with a playful sigh, but I got the feeling that he'd rather be at home eating from cardboard cartons than out with some woman who wasn't Telly. I’d hoped anyway. “What do you girls have planned tonight?” he asked, nudging me with his elbow.

  “None of your business. Now why don't you get out of here before you wake up Leo again like you did last night.”

  “Yes, Ms. Telly,” he said in a mocking tone. “See you later, Marin.” He left, shutting the front door behind him ever so softly.

  “Ugh. Good, they're gone. Now we can relax,” she said, opening the cartons.

  “So wait a second, Will’s going on a date? Isn't that kind of weird?” So much for them falling back in love.

  “No, it's fine. It helps me hate him. We both agreed that we would watch Leo one night a week so the other could go out. We just can't bring anyone home.”

  “So what if he doesn't come home until late or until tomorrow?” I asked.

  “He’s free to do so. We're not together, remember?” I couldn't tell if she was sick of saying it because I kept bringing it up or because it bothered her. But either way, I knew I’d better let it go. At least for the night.

  “Okay, so besides the dating thing, how’s the living arrangement?”

  She gave a so-so nod and handed me a full plate with a pair of chopsticks. “It's pretty good. We don't see each other that much, so it's kind of like having a roommate who has to take care of the baby.”

  “That doesn’t sound so bad,” I said, noodles dangling from my mouth.

  “Well, it is. So, you think the IVF really worked?” Nice way to change the subject, Telly.

  I put my hand on my belly, hoping the growing fetus was into Chinese food. “Yeah, that and the acupuncture, and my desire to be a mother.”

  “I still don’t know how you could let someone stick needles in you like Hellraiser.”

  I laughed. Sometimes I didn’t know either. “It’s actually pretty cool. I may keep going after the baby.”

  Telly frowned. “Well, I hope you are pregnant, then we can both be miserable with our babies and the guys who knocked us up.”

  I shot her a serious look. “Are you miserable?”

  “No.” She pushed her plate to the side. “But I'm not happy either.”

  “Why not?” I asked, knowing full well that it had been a tough year for her. For both of us.

  “You know I wore out my vibrator already. The one I bought myself for Christmas. I can usually get a good two years out of one and this piece of shit lasted like what? Seven months?”

  “No more luck online dating?” I asked.

  “Yeah, right, I’m not doing that anymore. Oh! That reminds me. Rachel’s signing her divorce papers on Monday.”

  I cocked my head. Rachel hadn’t told me that either, not that I’d been very approachable over those last few weeks. My entire focus had been on Mission: Get Pregnant. “I thought that wasn’t happening until next month.”

  “It wasn’t but she asked me to speed up the process. So I did.” I could practically see Telly stroking her own ego at a job well done.

  “Well, aren’t you a magic maker,” I teased. “Are you even allowed to share that information with me?”

  “I am. Rachel wanted me to invite you to celebrate with us on Monday night at a bar of her choice.”

  “Of course,” I said. “But I’m not drinking, obviously.” I gestured to my stomach, positive that the growing fetus would not appreciate mommy’s love of Malibu Bay Breezes.

  She rolled her eyes. “I can’t wait until you’re done breast feeding so we can drink wine together again.” I loved that we were talking about my pregnancy as if it were real.

  “Me too.”

  Later that Monday afternoon, Telly sent me a text as promised.

  Divorce is done. Meet us at Romper Room as soon as you can.

  I rolled my eyes. Of course Rachel picked a place with pink lighting and leopard-print chairs. It made me think back to her girly bachelorette party in Las Vegas only four years ago—her best friends laughing and playing bachelorette games, all of us drinking brightly colored cocktails. That night she confessed that something wasn’t right about her upcoming nuptials. But I simply brushed off her concerns as the usual cold feet. And now she was divorced.

  An hour later, I descended into the bar that I was pretty sure would be Malibu Barbie’s favorite place to drink. Telly and Rachel sat on a pleather sofa in the lounge immersed in giggly girl talk. Rachel shot down what looked like tequila, while Telly scoped out the room with her man-eater stare.

  I scooted in next to Rachel. “Whoa, what kind of party is this?”

  “Marin! You're here!” she said and wrapped her arms around my neck,
bringing me in for a happy hug.

  “Hey, how are you?” I asked, pushing her long, straightened hair back behind her shoulder.

  She sipped the last drop from the bottom of her shot glass. “I'm . . . a free woman. I need another one of these.”

  “How many drinks has she had?” I asked Telly out of the side of my mouth.

  “That was her third. Rachel’s a wild one!” Telly smirked and I knew she relished in the idea that one of us was single again.

  Rachel stood up. The hem of her skirt barely concealed the edge of her ass. “I’m getting another drink. You guys want something?”

  Telly held up her half-filled martini glass. “I’m good.”

  “Water, please?” I asked. At first she gave me a strange look but then gasped and held her hand in front of her mouth.

  “Are you?” Rachel asked, wide eyed.

  I smiled and touched my tummy. “We find out in a couple of days.”

  “Yay!” Rachel seemed to jump for joy, bouncing as she headed back to the bar. I squinted, looking to see if her booty was actually hanging out of her skirt.

  “Is that your mini she’s wearing?” I asked Telly and she laughed, almost spitting out her blue-colored vodka.

  “Maybe. I did leave some clothes at my apartment and told her to help herself.”

  “Oh, geez. She’s like your mini-me tonight,” I said, looking over at Telly’s twin leaning on the bar and batting her eyelashes at the sexy bartender. “Was she okay earlier?”

  Telly rested the glass near her bottom lip, the two of us keeping an eye on our young, newly single friend. “She was a little sad, but she seems fine now. I have to be honest. I'm really glad this is over. David seems to be in pretty bad shape. I actually feel sorry for the guy.”

  I scoffed. “He's the one who should be sorry, acting like an utter asshole.”

  Rachel strolled over, swishing her hips side to side. Telly and I gave each other a knowing look to cut the David talk.

  “Rachel, did you tell Holly the good news?” I asked as she plopped back down on the couch.

  She covered her mouth. “Oh, no. I didn't.” She pulled her phone out from her tiny purse and began typing away. “Sent!”

  I sipped my water and watched Rachel move her shoulders to the music, giggling to myself at how happy she seemed.

  “So is Kyle coming?” Telly asked and I shot her a look. “Yeah, I know about her new man.”

  “You do? Why didn't you say anything?” I asked.

  “Confidentiality, Marin. Besides, Rachel said she spilled the beans to you a while ago, so I wasn't worried about it.”

  Rachel raised her glass. “Tonight, it's just us girls! But I can’t wait for you two to meet him.” And I couldn’t wait either. But even more than that, I couldn’t wait to get to bed that night. I had been a little extra tired those last few days and I took it as a positive sign.

  It was a good thing I hadn’t left the bar early because by the end of the night Telly had just enough drinks to slip a nip and Rachel had gotten sick in the bathroom. I sent Telly home in an Uber and I took Rachel back to Telly's old place, or her new place. When we got inside, I helped her take off her strappy stilettos. She must’ve accidently flashed her thong about five times. I helped her into bed and shut off the light, leaving a small trash bin nearby.

  “Marin?” she muttered just as I was leaving the room.

  I turned back. “Yeah.”

  “I'm really sad.” Even though it was dark, I could hear her tears. I sat on the bed next to her and flipped on the nightstand lamp.

  “About the divorce?” I asked.

  She covered her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks. “About David. He's just so . . . fucked up. And it's so hard to love someone who's fucked up, you know?”

  Love? “Are you still in love with him?” I asked, handing her a tissue.

  “No,” she said, wiping under her nose. “But I still care about him. He was my family. And now I don't know who's going to take care of him. James doesn't even talk to him anymore. I hate that I’ve abandoned him too, but I just can't do it anymore. I can’t help him.”

  “I’ll ask James to go see him.”

  “You will?” Rachel asked in a tiny, sorrowful voice.

  “Yeah,” I said. “James and David are like family. You can get mad at your family, and even think you hate them, but they’re still your family. He’ll be there for David so you don’t have to.”

  Rachel wiped the last of her tears and let out a sigh. “That is such a relief.”

  I pushed her dark hair away from her brow. “Honey, you got divorced and you’re really drunk. You really should sleep it off. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

  She sat up and wrapped her arms around my shoulders. Her skin reeked of liquor. “I’m so glad you’re here. You’re the best big sister from another mister I could ever have.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Trouble in Paradise

  The next morning, I was so tired from my late night that I snoozed for an extra thirty minutes and drank black tea instead of green. When I got to my office at a quarter to nine, I considered taking a nap on my talking couch. But my patients would arrive at any time. And five minutes later, Diana called to announce that they had.

  My eyes burned a little as I walked out to the waiting area. “You guys ready?” I asked, praying that the session would be light and easy.

  They looked up, and without a word to each other, followed me back into my office.

  “I'm not going to be able to stay for the whole hour. I need to be across town by ten,” Aaron said.

  Heath let out an annoyed sigh. “Of course.”

  “I’m sorry, but I have a C-section scheduled. If I could change it, I would.”

  Okay, maybe it wouldn’t be so easy.

  “Anyway.” Heath smiled at me. “How are you, Dr. Johns-Young?”

  “I am doing well,” I said, taking a seat. “How are you both?”

  “Busy,” Aaron said.

  “Frustrated,” Heath chimed in.

  I put on my glasses and scribbled a few notes. “Tell me what’s going on?”

  “We've done all the research and have all our ducks in a row with this whole baby thing except for the two most important ones.”

  “And what's that?” I asked.

  “The sperm and the surrogate.”

  I pulled my glasses off and gave them a strange look. “I get the surrogate thing, but the sperm?”

  They glanced at each other as if trying to figure out who was going to tell me first. Heath raised his eyebrows and Aaron began. “Only one of us can be the donor and both of us want to do it. So now we're at a stalemate and it's delaying the baby.” He gave his husband a dirty look. I couldn’t imagine what that would be like, knowing that no matter what, your baby could never have both of your genes. It didn’t seem fair. Clearly, James and I weren’t the only ones suffering with baby woes. But hopefully we’d solve their dilemma and tomorrow I’d get an A-plus on my pregnancy test.

  I scribbled a note. “And what about the matter with the surrogate?”

  “Right,” Heath started, crossing his arms over his chest. “Aaron's sister offered to do it after we’d already found and decided on a hired surrogate.”

  “So you have two women willing to surrogate for you? What's wrong with that?”

  “We can't decide on that either. Aaron, of course, wants his sister to do it, which I'm not crazy about, especially if we use his sperm.”

  I looked up from my notepad. “What's wrong with Aaron's sister?”

  “Yes, what's so wrong with Tanya?” Aaron asked with an offended glare.

  “She is still in college and she has a history of risky behavior. I don't trust her with carrying our baby.”

  Aaron threw his hands up as if pleading with Heath. “Yes, but she'll be living with us so we'll know what she's up to. She promised me she would take it seriously because it's family. It's her future niece or nephew. Plus,
she's young, there's a better chance that the pregnancy will take. The surrogate is thirty years old!”

  A fierce heat rose in my chest. “So wait,” I held up my palm, “thirty-year-olds can't get pregnant?”

  Aaron looked taken aback. “They can . . . but it's less likely than a twenty-one-year-old.”

  I bit my tongue.

  “That's ridiculous,” Heath replied and I silently rooted for him. “Going with the surrogate is much cleaner. We don't have any ties to her. What if Tanya gets it in her head that she has rights with the baby?”

  “That's not going to happen. She knows she would have no legal claim to our child. Besides, it will save us fifteen-thousand dollars.” Aaron took a stern tone with Heath.

  “Oh, here we go again.” Heath’s eyes grew wide and he shook his head. “He thinks because he makes so much more money than me that he can dictate what we do with it. But you can't! We're supposed to be a team and right now you're not acting like it.”

  “You're not acting like it either!”

  I grabbed the whistle from around my neck and blew hard. I’d used it prematurely, but as I got older, my tolerance for arguing patients was a lot thinner. The guys looked at me with open mouths and fast-blinking eyes. I’d never used the whistle with them before. “Okay, guys. Hold on. You two seem to be communicating just fine. Each one of you knows what the other wants and why, right?”

  “Yes,” they said, grimacing and looking away like children in time-out.

  “Well, that's good. We can work with this.”

  Heath glanced at me. “Actually, doctor, that's why we scheduled this appointment, so that you could weigh in on the decision.”

  I put my hand in the middle of my chest. “Me?”

  “Yes, we trust your advice obviously.”

  I shook my head. “Oh, no. That's not a good idea.”

  “Come on, Dr. Johns, we just need your professional opinion.”

  I swallowed hard. “My professional opinion is that you two need to figure out, on your own, how to agree on a big decision like this. A baby is not a small thing. What are you going to do if something major happens to your son or daughter? How will you handle it then?”