“This is so freaky,” Bea observes, and I have to agree .
There’s a brief knock on the door and it opens. Dr. Lopez comes in, smiling broadly. Her high heels click against the linoleum floor .
“Ava Harrison?” she asks, glancing at the clipboard with my medical records .
“That’s me,” I confirm .
“Great, that’s great,” she coos. She pulls over a rolling chair and sits down. “Just lie back, I’m going to do a quick exam and then we can ultrasound you, if that’s all right? Just to make sure everything is progressing .”
“Oh! Ultrasound!” Bea exclaims, clapping her fingertips together. “This is exciting !”
“Oh, you guys are great couple,” Dr. Lopez sighs, smiling as she squirts lube on her gloved fingers. She pushes my knees apart gently and jams her fingers in me, pushing down on my belly while she stares at the far corner of the ceiling, concentrating. I feel like I should let her know that Bea and I are not together, but now doesn’t seem to be the right time .
“Okay! Everything feels good on the internal… now I’m just going to expose your belly so I can put the transponder gel on, all right ?”
I say okay as she pulls over a rolling cart and a tube of more cold lube that gives me goosebumps as soon as she squirts it on my skin. She takes the triangular transponder and mashes it against me, aiming it this way and that, sliding it back and forth while she makes more thoughtful noises. The black and white screen flickers with strange undulating shapes and whooshing noises fill the room .
“Hmm.”
I hold my breath. What did that sound mean? I squint at the TV screen, trying to see what she sees. Is it okay? Is it deformed? Am I having kittens ?
“Is everything all right, Dr. Lopez?” I finally ask, daring to open my mouth .
She hesitates for another excruciating second before tapping on the keyboard and then standing up, grinning and satisfied .
“Oh, yes, totally!” she exclaims. She holds out a hand to me that I take so she can pull me back toward sitting. With her dark pink fingernail, she taps the screen .
“Look at that. Perfectly healthy! And did you hear those heartbeats? Couldn’t ask for anything better .”
“Well that’s a relief!” I sigh. “Yeah, I guess I did hear the, um, heartbeats ?”
“Heartbeats?” Bea repeats .
Dr. Lopez nods, her curly hair bouncing in front of her forehead. She looks at us one by one. “Yes, perfectly healthy !”
“But, Dr. Lopez… more than one heartbeat ?”
Speaking of heartbeats, mine is going crazy .
She nods again, glancing down at my chart. Then she frowns, pressing her lips. “Oh… This says you’re having a singleton. Well, that’s wrong. You’re having twins !”
“Twins,” I repeat, my mouth suddenly dry .
She pats my knee fondly. “Yep. And you can go ahead and get dressed now. I’ll see you in four weeks, all right ?”
As the door closes behind her, I can’t hold it back anymore. I feel all my emotions, all at once. Every emotion I think I’ve ever had, suddenly flooding through me, taking over. I sob uncontrollably, shaking and coughing and gripping the end of the exam table .
Bea pets my knee, handing me tissue after tissue .
“Oh, there now, it’s going to be all right…” she says, completely unconvincing. “Twins are great! They’re adorable! You’re going to be so happy about this !”
“What am I going to do?” I whine, the words unintelligible even to me through the wet sounds of my choking sobs. “I can’t have twins! I’m not even sure I can handle one !”
“You can, and you will.” she informs me, putting on her superior boss-lady voice. “Now get dressed, and let’s go to lunch. We’ll talk this out. We’ll come up with a plan .”
Miserably, I shove myself off the exam table and get back into my oversized jeans and Cal State sweatshirt .
“This sucks. This absolutely sucks .”
“It doesn’t suck, Ava. Let’s go eat .”
“It totally sucks .”
She just rolls her eyes and drags me out of the exam room, back through reception, and back out onto the street. I must look awful, because everybody we pass gazes at me with alarm. I do not even care about that. I deserve to cry. I deserve to have an absolute tantrum. Nothing could be worse .
She drags me to a noodle shop, pushing me toward the counter where there happen to be two empty spots at the end. In a few moments, I get a nice, hot bowl of ramen in front of me, slices of pork gleaming atop the savory oil slick, festooned with ribbons of green onion and a sprinkling of sesame seeds .
“Okay, ramen,” I admit, my tears drying on my cheeks. “This is a good idea. Ramen will heal me .”
“You’re not going to be healed. No healing to be done! You’re not sick, Ava. You’re pregnant .”
“With twins,” I remind her. Drops of broth dribble down my chin. I don’t even care .
Bea twirls long noodles around her chopsticks like an expert, popping the bundle directly onto her tongue. She chews thoughtfully for a moment .
“Okay, well, two can’t be that much more difficult than one. You are ready for one? Right? If you can do that, you can do twins. You are a woman .”
“Hear me roar,” I respond meekly .
“But,” she says as she affixes me sternly with her eyes, “you gotta tell your mom .”
I flinch .
“I really don’t think that’s a good idea .”
She turns to me, her eyebrows straight and serious. I try not to look at her, but her eyeballs are burning right into the side of my face. Finally, I glance over .
“You gotta tell your mom,” she says again. “She deserves to know. She’s gonna find out anyway! And you’re gonna need all the help you can get, whether you want to admit it or not. I know you’re a grown-ass woman, but you gotta .”
“No I don’t .”
“Stop being so stubborn! She’s a mom. Both of your parents, as a matter of fact. They’re going to be happy for you. Sure, it’ll be a little weird… what with Ethan and all …”
“Oh my God. Can I just leave that part out ?”
“No you can’t… wait. I don’t know. Can you ?”
My mouth opens and closes as I think about it. Can I? That certainly would simplify things. I hadn’t even thought about it until I just said it .
“Not sure… I guess I’ll try ?”
“That’s a good girl,” she sighs, going back to her luxurious bowl of soup. “Finish eating. Gotta keep your strength up! You’re eating for… three? Oh my God .”
“Oh my God,” I repeat .
***
T he next week, I catch an Uber out to my parents’ house, dressed in loose-fitting clothes and feeling strangely optimistic about the whole thing. After all, when Bea laid it out for me, it sounded like there was no way my parents would greet the news with anything less than joy. Maybe a parade .
But when I see Aden’s car in the driveway, my heart sinks .
I was not entirely prepared for this after all .
The door swings open, a yellow wedge of light exploding as my mom appears silhouetted, all smiles with her arms out .
“Ava!” she exclaims. “Hey, baby, you’re home !”
I can’t help but smile as she gathers me into a big hug. She groans dramatically, leaning me from side to side .
“Mom, Mom!” I object. “I’ve only been gone a couple of weeks !”
“It feels like forever!” she moans .
She pushes me back, holding me by my shoulders so she can inspect me from top to bottom. “You look awesome. You’re eating okay? Looks like you are eating okay .”
I smile nervously. “Yes, Mom, I’m eating okay. I’m hungry though. Is dinner ready ?”
“Yes! Your father cooked !”
She rolls her eyes .
“What? Really ?”
“Yeah, he said he wanted to try something new… Barbecue? I don�
��t know what’s gotten into him. Now that you and Aden are out of the house, he seems to think he gets to start over .”
As we head into the dining room, I can see him through the back door. He’s wearing a long, checkered apron that’s tied in the back, holding a shiny spatula in front of him as he scowls at the grill .
“Oh boy, this is going to be fun,” I mutter .
“He’s actually pretty good,” Aden says as I round the corner into the dining room. I swallow automatically, plastering a smile onto my face .
“Oh is he ?”
Aden rolls a glass of scotch between his fingers, the ice cubes clinking against the sides. “Yeah. We had some pork tenderloin last week that was tasty as hell. You probably should’ve been here,” he finishes sourly .
“I’ll do better,” I respond, and I mean it .
Dinner is nice, and I hardly have to say anything. The three of them just chatter back and forth, just like always. After a while I realize, it’s really just the same. I’m the only one who thinks it’s any different. Because I’m the only one who has anything to hide .
“So, Mom, Dad…” I start. They freeze in mid-sentence, turning toward me with half-formed smiles on their faces .
I take a deep breath. Then I take another .
“I need to tell you something…And there’s no easy way to say it. I’m pregnant .”
Everybody just stares. I try to concentrate over the pounding in my head, in case they’re about to say something. I don’t want to miss it but I’m afraid of what it might be .
“You’re what?” Aden finally says .
“Pregnant?” my dad repeats, his voice stunned into monotone .
“You’re having a baby?” my mother whispers. Her face has gone white, her lips pale and slack .
“Actually, two babies. Twins. I found out last week .”
They all look at each other, exchanging glances, silent conversations. For a moment their attention is not on me, and I feel like I can take a breath to try to catch up .
“Does this have anything to do with Ethan Mercer?” Aden asks shrewdly, squinting and pointing at me with his fork. I can see his hands trembling with rage .
“Aden, I — ”
“How did this happen?” my dad blurts out. “How did you… you just graduated! You just got your first job! Your first apartment !”
Part of me wants to answer, it happened the regular way. But that would just pour fuel on the fire. I opt for the conciliatory. “Which makes it all kind of perfect, right?” I plead. “Everything is sort of coming together for me… I mean, I realize I’m young …”
“So young!” my mother cries out. Her fingertips fly toward her mouth, fluttering like birds wings. “You’re so young !”
Suddenly, I’m very sorry. I’m not ashamed, but I can see something dissolving in her eyes, some other plan that she knows is crumbling away like a sand castle under the tide .
“Oh, Mom …”
“If this has anything to do with Ethan,” my brother growls, “I will fucking kill — ”
“Who’s the father?” my dad asks. He’s gone stony, his face gray and impassive. He holds my mother’s hand, caging it in his big, wide hand against the tablecloth .
“Does it really matter?” I ask meekly, but I’m not sure anybody’s listening to me anyway .
My mom clears her throat, then twice more. She sniffles and stares at the ceiling. When she looks back at me, she has a brave smile and her cheeks are pink .
“You know what, Ava, babies are always a blessing,” she says in a small but strong voice. “If this is what you really want — ”
“It really is!” I insist. As soon as I say the words, I hear how true they are. It really is what I want. I don’t know how, and I know it will be extremely hard, but I know it will be okay .
We chatter awkwardly for little while longer, though Aden says almost nothing. Finally I dial up another Uber and promise my parents I’ll be back next week for dinner. They embrace me stiffly, holding back what I’m sure are avalanches of emotions .
When the Uber arrives, I rush out to meet it, feeling like I’ve made the best of the situation and I’m ready to escape. I feel a tug on my elbow and turn around to see Aden, his eyes flashing, his jaw clenching and unclenching .
“You didn’t answer my question,” he reminds me .
“I don’t like your tone!” I object, twisting my elbow away. “I’m a grown woman, Aden. I do not like the way you are treating me right now .”
We face off for a few more seconds, until the Uber driver honks. I stalk away, pretending to be a lot more brave than I feel .
As the car pulls away from the curb, I watch Aden glowering at me from the sidewalk. I don’t know what he is going to do, but I’m pretty sure he’s not going to just give up .
Chapter 37
ETHAN
T en times. That’s how many times I’ve texted Ava since she visited me at my place two weeks ago. Ten times .
Zero responses .
I glare at my phone angrily. What is she trying to do to me? I waited two days before texting her the first time. Just a simple message saying How are you doing? Would you like to get dinner ?
Nothing.
At first I thought she was playing some kind of douchebag trick on me—one that I have to admit I might have done to other girls in the past—so I waited a couple days before texting her again .
And still nothing .
So then I asked her for a quick picture of the necklace, just to see if she was wearing it. Maybe I crossed the line with that one. Maybe she thought I was checking up on her or something, and so she didn’t want to respond in order teach me a lesson .
I admit, I may have done that kind of thing too .
In the past .
But after eight messages sent two or three days apart, and nothing sent back, I started to get worried. I stalked her on Facebook a little bit. I just wanted to make sure she hadn’t moved to Argentina or something. And there she was, sharing a triple-sized ice cream sundae with Bea, grinning and happy as ever. Absolutely glowing .
It made my stomach hurt .
So now it’s been ten messages, over two weeks, and she’s not dead or hospitalized or anything like that .
But scrolling back to her other Facebook posts, one kind of stands out. In it she’s leaning on a stack of boxes, standing in the middle of an empty room. Did she get a new apartment? She did mention that, but then she didn’t ask me for referrals or anything. Did she move ?
Before I have time to think it through, I email the HR department at my web media company and innocently ask for a spreadsheet with updated contact information for all the employees. I’m perfectly within my rights, I’m sure. Legally, anyway .
And there it is, her new address. About four blocks from here, in a perfectly respectable building that I don’t own. Well, that’s clever .
Even though I want to pretend I’m not going to, I head over there immediately. It’s half past eight on a Thursday night. She might be home, right? Or we could just happen to bump into each other in the lobby? Or, maybe the building is for sale. Maybe I want to buy it. I’m always interested in new real estate investments …
Who am I fooling ?
My mouth is dry and my heart is pounding in my throat through the whole walk. Fog has rolled in from the bay and it soaks through my clothes, chilling me completely. September in San Francisco is dreary at best, but it’s merely a harbinger of everything that happens over the winter. Still, something propels me forward, some undeniable urgency .
I knock at the door gently, standing to the side of the keyhole. The hallway is modest but clean, with recently installed carpeting and an unblemished chair rail. Her apartment is at the end, and she’s hung a homey wreath of dried flowers on the door. That strikes me as adorably poignant somehow .
No answer .
I knock again, listening intently until I hear shuffling sounds. The deadbolt unlatches and I swallow hard. The do
or opens just a couple inches, just far enough for her bright blue eyes to blink innocently at me from the gap .
“You’re home,” I say instead of hello for some reason. I sound gruff, like a fairytale character .
“I am,” she says, slightly sarcastically .
I shift from foot to foot, unsure what to say next .
“Well… I guess I just wanted to make sure you are okay,” I mutter uncomfortably. “I’m glad you’re okay .”
She squints at me, huffing her breath out through her nose. Without another word, she turns away, letting the door swing open behind her .
I pause in the foyer to just be polite. She walks away toward the kitchen, adorable in a pair of comfy-looking sweatpants with Cal State embroidered across the butt .
“Do you want some water?” she calls out. “Tea? Diet Coke? I’m sorry I don’t have any champagne or anything .”
She turns back toward me, leaning one hand against the counter. The sapphire pendant glitters brightly from between her collarbones .
“You’re still wearing it,” I observe quietly .
She sighs, her fingers drifting toward the pendant absentmindedly. “Well, it is beautiful,” she mumbles. “My birthstone and all .”
Tentatively, I take a couple more steps into the apartment. It’s not bad. Clean, in a nice neighborhood with good access to transportation. She’s picked a few quality pieces of furniture to get started: a green velvet couch, a dinette set with drop leaves. Framed pictures cluster on the wall over the table, and I see the smiling faces of her parents and brother .
“This is a great apartment. Really great .”
“Yeah, it is… Ethan, why are you here ?”
I clear my throat, searching for the right words to say .
“I guess… I want to try something new. Maybe expand my horizons .”
She knuckles her hip, casting her weight to one side and rolling her eyes .
“Okay… do you want to tell me what that means ?”
“It means that… I mean…” The words fail me. I take a deep breath and try again. “It means I want you to answer my texts. On a regular basis .”
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