Edified

by Marissa Sail Fike

  I’ve been on birth control ever since the first scare, but his assurance and promises of undying love were enough to make me a little careless with it. I tried to remember to take it every day, but sometimes I’d accidentally skip or take the pill a few hours off from the time I took it the day before.

  Again, his voice echoes in my mind of the night he told me that we’d figure it out together, because it was me and him against the world. And in this moment, I want nothing more than to soak in that kind of comfort, but when I pull out my phone a second time to message him, a horrible image crosses my mind:

  His phone going off, lighting up the darkness of his room at approximately 12:07 am. He reaches over to grab it from his bedside table — the wooden one I bought for him — to read what looks like a desperate cry from me, as Hadley buries her face into his chest.

  I furrow my brow, and squeeze my eyes shut again. A hot tear escapes them this time and rolls quickly down my cheek.

  Would he leave her for me? Hell, of course he wouldn’t … he practically left me for her. Being pregnant wouldn’t make any difference in that situation. I really am completely alone in this, and on top of that, my pride is hurt for what feels like the hundredth time this week. Hurt because of what he did, and hurt because despite it, I’ve still considered trying to make us work.

  I lean my head back against the headboard and shudder, an indelicate sob escaping my chest.

  The gentle sound of Kaya’s voice reverberates in my mind as she flipped through the pages of her Bible, “If you take nothing else from this night, let it be one of the Lord’s most gracious promises to us: ‘I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son.’”

  The words held a hollow meaning to me until now. I’d let my mind gloss over them the first time she read them, in a hurry to flee the scene.

  Now, I simply let the tears fall as I bow my head, feeling powerless. I don’t move from where I am. There is no kneeling at my bedside as I’m sure is proper. I simply remain still as three short words desperately escape from my heart to my lips.

  “God,” I whisper, having lost my voice to the tears, “Help me.”

  8

  Rae - Saturday

  Adam and I decide to have brunch at our favorite pizzeria. He had insisted on taking me out for a treat today, leaving me with the anticipation of having “big news” to share.

  I sit across the table from him, waiting expectantly.

  He takes a leisurely sip of water.

  “Well?” I say.

  “Well what?” He smiles.

  “What’s the big news? What are we celebrating?”

  “Oh, that,” He waves his hand passively, trying to appear nonchalant, “It’s nothing really.”

  I narrow my eyes and widen my smile.

  He stretches his arms behind his head, “Just that I finally got that raise at work. That’s all.”

  My mouth drops into an open smile, “Are you serious?”

  He gives into an ear-to-ear grin, “Dead serious.”

  “Adam!” I cheer, reaching across the table for a kiss, “That’s incredible!”

  “One step closer to an extravagant honeymoon.” He says as I pull away.

  My heart warms. I’ve always dreamed of going to Italy and staying in the colorful village of Burano. Adam has devoted himself to making that dream a reality for me.

  “I’m so glad your contributions to the school are finally getting recognized.” I say, “You know, by someone who isn’t a sex-crazed teenage girl.”

  This makes him laugh.

  Adam is the heart throb of the school — sexier than a teacher has any right to be, and all the high school girls drool over him.

  “What about you?” He says, folding his hands on the table and leaning in, “I didn’t bring you here just to talk about me. Tell me what’s been going on with you.”

  I shake my head and take a sip of my water, “I don’t know where to begin.”

  He gazes at me attentively, “Something on your mind?”

  That’s an understatement. I could tell him about the frowny-faced homework I’ve been receiving from my trig class, but I think I’d rather just suffer alone on this one than let him know how much of a lost cause I am in his area of expertise. Adam is a math teacher … He would never understand. Or worse, he might try to help me.

  Instead, I opt to tell him about the text I got this morning. Maybe he can help me decide what to do.

  “Kaya texted me today.” I say.

  He raises an eyebrow, “Above and Beyond lady?”

  “Yes. She invited me to a last-minute get-together tonight.”

  A baby shower, to be exact, for a girl named Macie, who I take to be the pregnant girl who kicked off our icebreaker the other night.

  “Are you gonna go?” He says, nodding to the waitress as she sets down a piping hot tray of pizza and an alfredo pasta bowl.

  “I don’t know yet,” I say, “I kind of feel like I should. You know, make-up for my hasty dash the other night. But don’t you think that’d be kind of a betrayal to Grace to go to another A&B event?

  He shrugs, “Why would it be?”

  “Because Hadley will probably be there …”

  His brows pinch, like he’s trying to remember who she is.

  “Jayden’s lover,” I offer.

  Recognition dawns on his face. I take a bite of pasta as he chews thoughtfully,

  “I mean, do you want to go?”

  I wince, “Kinda … mom will probably be there. I sort of owe her an explanation for last night.”

  “But you can call your mom anytime,” He says. “Don’t think about if you need to go. I’m asking if you want to. Last I heard, you were avoiding A&B like the plague, and you only went the other day because of your mom.”

  I consider this before concluding, “I think I want to go.”

  “Okay,” Adam says, “Why?”

  I sigh, “Because the whole vibe of the group is just … different. There’s a lot of new faces there now, and they’re genuinely nice, caring people. Especially Kaya.”

  Adam nods, “Then you should go.”

  “But Grace … and Hadley …”

  “Grace doesn’t need to know everything, babe. I’m not saying to go and then rub it in her face that you’re hanging out with these people. Just keep it low-key. Enjoy yourself. It’s not like you promised her you’d never go again.”

  I pull a slice of pizza onto my plate. He is right … Grace is the only one who said she wasn’t going back. And it’s not like I’m going to hang out with Hadley. We probably won’t even talk the entire time I’m there, because what reason would there be for it?

  “It’s up to you,” He concludes. “I’m not going to tell you what to do, but your mom goes to this group, for heaven's sake. I’m pretty sure Grace would understand.”

  ***

  “In a quarter mile, turn left onto Rose Valley Boulevard.” My GPS sing-songs through the speakers of the car.

  It was a constant debate for me during the hours leading up to the shower. To go, or not to go. I’m still debating on whether or not coming here was the right decision as I pull into the driveway of Kaya’s home.

  It’s a humble little brick dwelling with a garden area out front and a white picket fence. I check myself in the mirror and apply another layer of my favorite coconut lip balm before going in.

  When I knock on the door, I hear a dog barking from the inside. Kaya opens it, looking relaxed and gorgeous, as an adorable, fast-moving ball of fluff mauls my legs.

  “Alright, Coco, that’s enough,” Kaya says, picking up the little beagle puppy.

  He licks her profusely, ears flopping joyfully.

  I can’t help but smile, “He’s adorable!”

  “Thanks! Adopted him about three months back”

  He wriggles free from her grasp and runs off into the living room, and Kaya welcomes me in. Her house always smells like the most decadent coffee. Now in
her early thirties, she never married, but she still loves to entertain and is easily the most hospitable person I know.

  “Is mom here?” I ask.

  “Came and left, I’m afraid.” Kaya says, “She had an appointment I believe is what she said. Come on this way though. Everyone’s kind of pooled in the common area.”

  As I step into the living room, I realize that almost everyone who was present at A&B is here and then some — those who I assume to be Macie’s family. I place my present for her on the gift table and take a seat on the couch by the girl from opening night with the inked arms.

  She’s looking down at the screen of a professional-looking camera and flipping through still-frames.

  “Zoe, right?” I say.

  She looks up at me and smiles, “Oh, hey! I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

  This surprises me, “You have?”

  “Yeah,” She says, showing me the screen of her camera,

  “About this.”

  Her screen displays a picture of Grace and I talking to Kaya before the Bible study. Kaya is in mid-sentence, her hands animating whatever she is saying in the photo, and Grace and I are listening attentively.

  “Kaya asked me to take some candid pictures of opening night for the A&B website,” She says, “I wanted to make sure you were okay with me posting it. Most of the other ones I got weren’t nearly as photogenic as this. Someone is always yawning or blinking.”

  I laugh, “I had no idea you were even taking pictures.”

  “If you have a good candid photographer, you never will,” She winks.

  “Let me see it again,” I say, reaching for the camera.

  I try not to let it bother me that the scars on my right arm are visible in the photo, but it still does a little bit. Grace looks gorgeous as always, so I know she won't mind.

  “You two would make really good models,” Zoe says, “You look so athletic and sheen, and your friend has these cute, yet whimsical bohemian vibes.”

  Athletic and sheen? Is that what people see? I glance back at Grace, agreeing wholly with Zoe’s compliment for her. Sometimes I can’t understand why someone as beautiful as Grace would compare herself to anyone.

  “You should tell her that,” I smile, avoiding a reply that could lead to more talk about how I look, “That would make her day.”

  I flip through the other pictures on the camera and quickly see what Zoe means about the other candid shots, but there are also some really good intentional ones of opening night. There’s one that is a surface-high view of a table and three sets of hands. One set is obviously older, withered and adorned with rings, while the other two are younger — nails painted and more bracelets than rings. There are Bibles and notebooks splayed before them along with cups of coffee. The older pair of hands rest folded on her Bible, one younger pair cups around her coffee mug, and the other pair writes notes with a blue pen.

  “Wow, I really like this one,” I say, “You’ve got some talent.”

  “Thanks,” she smiles, “I needed some more material for my photography blog.”

  That’s when something occurs to me.

  “So you book sessions for pay?” I ask.

  “Sure, whenever there’s a need.” She says.

  I brighten, “My fiancé and I never took any official engagement pictures. Now that we’re designing the invites, we’re kind of wishing that we had. Would you be into booking a session sometime soon?”

  “Totally!” Zoe says, “I’m usually pretty booked this time of year. You know — fall leaves in Vermont and all that — but I’m pretty sure I had a cancelation for the tenth if you want that slot. Let me send you the link to my blog.”

  Relief floods me. Five days from now. One less thing I have to take care of.

  Zoe and I exchange phone numbers and we nail down next Thursday for the photoshoot. Then someone calls her name from across the room and we part ways.

  I feel a light tap on my shoulder and turn around, surprised by the perfectly ‘done-up’ face smiling back at me. Her lashes are definitely fake.

  “Hi!” Hadley says sweetly, “I think you’re the only one I haven’t officially met yet. You said your name was Lacey, right?”

  I don’t correct her. Let her use the name that shows up only on my legal documents.

  I clear my throat, “And you’re Hadley Harris.”

  “I am!” She laughs, “I wish I were that good with names and faces.”

  I’m not sure what to do. I hadn’t planned on talking to her at all, and somehow here we are. Should I continue a civil conversation, or confront her somehow since she voluntarily placed herself in my path? I could pull out a picture of Grace and Jayden together and say something snarky, like, “Do you recognize these faces?”

  Back in high school, I wouldn’t have even hesitated to put a mean girl in her place. But for some reason, this is harder than all those times. Hadley is being so damn nice to me, and for the life of me, I can’t figure out why.

  When I don’t say anything, she continues.

  “I couldn’t help but overhear what you and Zoe were talking about a minute ago. Something about posing for wedding announcement pictures? I just wanted to say congratulations!”

  I’m taken aback.

  “Thank you,”

  She takes my curt replies as if I have something more to say. She widens her lip-glossed smile at me expectantly.

  “He’s really something special.” I say, for lack of knowing what she wants from me.

  “Tell me about him,” She says brightly, shifting her weight.

  Okay … I guess we’re doing this now.

  “Well,” I say, “He’s probably the most attractive man I’ve ever seen. He’s got these greenish-grey eyes and he wears glasses when he reads. He makes all his female students do a double take.”

  “So he’s a teacher?” She smiles.

  “He is,” I say, “He’s super intelligent and classy, but also smooth and very thoughtful.”

  She sighs wistfully, “He sounds wonderful.”

  “He is.” I say again, smiling.

  That’s when I realize she’s set this conversation up perfectly for me.

  “What about you?” I say, “Are you seeing anyone?”

  Her cheeks flush and she looks down, but her smile doesn’t falter.

  “I am,” She says, “Well, sort of.”

  “Sort of?” I say, as pleasantly as I can muster.

  “He and I used to only see each other once in awhile because of his work schedule, but lately we’ve been getting to see each other more and more, and it’s just been lovely. We gel really well together, I think.” She says.

  I nod, my heart squeezing inside, “Do you have any pictures of him? So I can get a visual?”

  She pulls out her phone, stares at it for a split second with the screen off before rolling her eyes, “Shoot, I forgot about this new phone. I have yet to transfer all my pics. His name is Jayden, though.”

  At this moment, a light bulb goes off in my head.

  “Wait a second,” I snap my fingers, feigning an expression of recognition, “Jayden Grayson?”

  She brightens, “Yeah! How’d you know?”

  “I think I know him,” I say, pulling out my phone.

  Way too well after countless double dates with him and Grace. But Hadley’s description isn’t what bothers me. It’s that I’m beginning to get the feeling that she has no idea about Grace, or that Grace and I have, in fact, seen her nudes on Jayden’s phone.

  I pull up his Facebook page, which is covered in pictures of him and Grace. I tap his profile picture — the one of just him looking all classic bad boy with his leather jacket and perfectly done hair — and the photos of he and Grace disappear from the screen.

  I turn the screen towards her, and her smile widens, “Yes! Yes, that’s him.”

  She takes my phone and squints at it, “I don’t think I’ve seen that one of him before. He looks so suave.”

  I laugh, keep
ing my tone light, “Girl, it’s on his Facebook page.”

  Her brows pinch together as she hands it back to me, “That’s … strange.”

  “Why’s that?” I pocket the phone.

  “He told me he didn’t have a Facebook anymore …”

  I bite my lower lip, “Really? That is … strange.”

  “Alright,” Kaya announces, “We’re gonna go ahead and kick off some games!”

  9

  Grace - Sunday

  Stress is one of the human body’s most cunning tricksters. It can send aching pains to your head, chest, and stomach. It can steal your energy and your sleep from you. It can cause you to become obsessive over small matters; and in some cases, it can prolong the start of a highly anticipated period.

  I glance down at my shopping list and put a check mark next to ‘Guavas’. Fresh Note is the only store I could think of that would have them. I go through the produce section, filling my cart with strawberries, bell peppers, kiwis, oranges, and a papaya for good measure.

  I head to the juice aisle next and select a container of orange juice and a pricey pre-blended smoothie drink called VitaC Boost. As I make my way over to the checkout line, I stop in the pharmaceutical section and drop a container of vitamin C capsules in my cart.

  “For Immunity Health!” The label boasts.

  I frown. I wish that was all I needed.

  As I’m turning from the vitamin section, a row of bright pink boxes catch my eye.

  “Ninety-nine percent accurate!” They say, “Fast results!”

  I stare down at my cart, which is hued with a selection of orange, yellow and green things.

  I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to wait a whole week after your missed period before taking a pregnancy test for truly accurate results … Otherwise, the test could spew false readings. I shake my head and start toward the checkout line. My vitamin-C rich groceries will induce my period. This is only a scare and nothing more.