The Trouble With Before
Page 10
“What’s that?” I ask, looking it over.
“Insurance questionnaire and stuff about my girly parts,” she teases.
I immediately look away, and she laughs.
“Relax, Aidan. Just imagine, you could be sitting here someday as an expecting father.” She giggles, and I frown.
I glance back at the 7.5 with the haircut like Demi Moore from Ghost. “Hey, what all do chicks come here for?”
She continues to write on the forms. “What do you mean?”
“Like, if this is the lady doctor, you guys don’t come here for colds and stuff, right?”
She stops looking at her paper and looks at me strangely. “Are you serious?”
I cross my arms, feeling a little embarrassed.
“Um, no, this is where women come for women’s issues, like if you’re expecting or for annual exams, birth control, stuff like that,” she says, clearly trying not to laugh.
“So it’s not just if you’re knocked up or have STDs?” I ask.
She busts out in laughter, making everyone in the waiting room look at us. “No. Is that the only reason guys go to the doctor?”
I shrug, and she rolls her eyes.
“Oh God, Aidan, how many STDs have you had?” she asks, and I shush her.
“It was only one time. That chick Cindy burned me junior year, fuckin’ chlamydia,” I say angrily, and she shakes her head at me. “Don’t act like you’ve never been burned before.” I nudge her, and she looks at me in horror.
She laughs. “I haven’t actually. Getting an STD isn’t a rite of passage experience.”
“Ha ha.” I pull out my phone, but it’s only on two percent, so I stuff it back in my pocket. I’m so freakin’ bored. I pick up one of the magazines and flip through it. “Ew.”
Lisa looks at me blankly. “What?”
I point at the picture in the magazine of the guy holding what looks like an alien.
“It’s the placenta,” she says dryly.
“It looks like it’s from another planet.”
“You’re six years old,” she says with a hint of amusement in her voice.
“So does that ask how many dudes you’ve boned?” I ask, looking over her shoulder at the form.
“Okay, just go wait in the car and listen to sports radio or something.”
“I’m just curious,” I say innocently.
“Yes, it goes over your sexual history,” she says, continuing to scribble on her paper.
“Like what’s your favorite position?” I joke.
This time she swats me but grins. I’d rather her smile than be nervous. This place is giving me the creeps even though I already know there’s no possibility of me being pregnant or having an STD. Lisa eventually gives me her phone, and I end up playing Subway Surfer until the receptionist or nurse calls her name.
“Are you going to be okay with coming in, or do you want to stay out here?” she asks, standing.
“Will I get to see your boobs if I go in?” I tease, and she rolls her eyes at me.
“Maybe even both of them,” she says, grabbing my hand and pulling me out of the chair.
I follow her. I watch Lisa get her blood pressure taken and step on scales. I’m trying to figure out what exactly this appointment is for. She hasn’t mentioned anything about having the baby and I’m not sure if she’s made up her mind yet, but I am glad she’s doing something. After they’re done poking and prodding her and taking her blood—and they took a lot—they sit us in a little room, me in a chair and her on top of a tall doctor’s table.
“Hey, Aidan?” she says quietly. “I’m the one with the baby inside me. I should look more nervous than you.” She gives me a wink.
The doctor comes in. She’s tall, like almost basketball player tall, and she has pants and a red top with ruffles at the top under her white coat. I don’t think I’ve done a chick as tall as her before.
“Hello, how are you guys doing today?” Her voice is warmer than I imagined it being.
“Good,” Lisa squeaks.
“Okay over there,” I say, and she nods.
“That’s great. I’m Dr. Morris, and I see that you guys are expecting,” she says with a wide smile as though we’ve won a prize on a game show.
My eyes widen.
“Oh no, he’s not . . . I am. He’s my friend,” she tells the doctor quickly.
Dr. Morris looks back and forth between us with the same wide smile. “Well, that’s great. It’s so important to have moral support.” She doesn’t miss a beat, looking at Lisa’s chart. “So I take it I have permission to speak freely with Mr. . . . ?”
“Riles, but Aidan’s cool,” I tell her, my voice sounding higher than normal.
“Yeah, it’s fine,” Lisa answers meekly.
“Great. So the blood test confirms that you are indeed pregnant,” she says in a congratulatory tone, and Lisa smiles tightly. “It looks like, according to the last day of your menses, you think you’re at about ten weeks?”
Lisa nods with a look that makes me think she isn’t in a celebratory mood.
“So on your form, it seemed like you indicated you weren’t sure if you wanted to continue with the pregnancy?” Dr. Morris asks, her expression showing concern.
Lisa lets out a deep breath and nods, glancing at me. “I just . . . it’s not the ideal time or situation for me, but whenever I think of ending it, so to speak, I just . . . I can’t really see myself doing that, but I-I don’t know.” She shrugs and glues her eyes to her lap.
“Well, you’re still early and there are a few options to consider if you want more information on aborting the pregnancy. However, it sounds like you’re more interested in adoption if I’m reading this correctly?” she asks.
“I-I think so. I guess I want more information on it,” Lisa says.
My eyes widen. I never considered Lisa going through everything and handing over her kid. I mean, she’s done it once, but that was to her aunt. I feel my stomach toss, and I shift in my seat.
“Adoption could be a really great thing. Have you discussed it with the father?” Dr. Morris asks.
“He’s okay with whatever I want,” Lisa answers just above a whisper.
“We have a lot of resources we can connect you with if that’s an option you want to explore, but for now, let’s take a look at how things are going,” Dr. Morris says in an upbeat tone. “I’m going to step out while you change into that gown, and we’ll see if we can find the baby’s heartbeat.”
“O-okay,” Lisa answers, looking at me.
“You can hear that now?” I ask, surprised.
“We should be,” Dr. Morris says cheerfully before she leaves the room.
I SEE A lot of things when I look at Aidan. Ex-soldier, sports fanatic, best friend, Captain America . . . okay he really reminds me of Captain America. He’s like the poster child for him. All-American football player since freshman year, blond hair, blue eyes, perfect smile, lips drawn by God himself but a body sketched by the devil, mouth as filthy as a garbage can . . . well maybe an evil Captain America.
A doppelganger or something.
But I’ve never imagined Aidan as a prospective dad. When we first arrived in the clinic, he was typical Aidan, making crude jokes, looking as uncomfortable as if we had landed on a different planet. It was annoying but sort of cute and definitely what I needed to calm my nerves. I hadn’t needed to hear that he’d gotten an STD from that skank Cindy though. His nervousness once we got to the exam room was expected, but when the doctor got out the Doppler and the baby’s heartbeat started to blast in the room, I never imagined the look on his face.
“It’s like a washing machine,” Aidan says excitedly. His eyes are wide and bright and full of excitement.
“Most people say that,” Dr. Morris answers with a smile.
“That’s so cool. That’s inside you?” he asks me in amazement.
My cheeks heat up. I think back to the first time I heard Willa’s heartbeat thudding. At the ti
me, I didn’t know if she was a Will or Willa; I tried not to think much about it. At the doctor’s office, I pretended I was watching a TV show and my life was someone else’s. My aunt Danni was the excited one, asking questions and confirming two or three times that everything was going well and that the baby was okay.
“Good strong heartbeat,” Dr. Morris says.
“Can you tell if it’s a boy or girl?” Aidan asks, and I can’t help but genuinely laugh.
“No, it’s a little too early for that,” Dr. Morris says, as amused as I am when Aidan’s face falls. “So I’m going to get the nurse to gather up all of the resources we have for the options we talked about, and after you mull over it, give us a call to schedule your next appointment and we can talk more then.”
“Thank you, Dr. Morris,” I tell her.
“Any questions for me right now?” she asks.
“Um, so if she wants to do adoption, does she have to decide that right now?” Aidan asks, surprising me.
Dr. Morris seems just as surprised. “No, of course not. Typically, it’s something that most women have to prepare for—it takes a very strong person to go that route, I must say. However, even if it’s something that Lisa decides to do, there wouldn’t be any paperwork signed until after the baby is born, so that gives her a lot of time to come to terms with whatever she decides.”
A grin spreads across his face that makes my heart skip a beat, then she turns to me.
“Other decisions, we don’t have the luxury of so much time. If it’s something that you’re still debating, I suggest that you very carefully consider all of your options while they’re still viable,” she says gently, looking directly into my eyes.
“I understand.” I look over at Aidan, who is frowning up with his arms folded.
“For now though, I’m going to set you up with some prenatal vitamins, some iron pills since you’re a bit low there, and folic acid. I know you mentioned you weren’t having much, but I’ll give you a prescription for something to help with morning sickness if it pops up,” she tells me.
“Thank you,” I say.
“It was nice to meet you both,” she says before leaving the room.
When she does, I see Aidan staring at me with a smile, but it’s strained. “That was nuts.” His stone face breaks into genuine enthusiasm, but I can tell he’s fighting it and unsure of what emotion he should display.
“Yeah, it’s surreal to hear the heartbeat, huh?” I say lightly, and he nods enthusiastically.
“You’ve really got something in there,” he says in wonderment, staring at my stomach as if for the first time realizing that I’m actually pregnant.
“Yeah,” I say, touching it. I look up and see he’s biting his bottom lip, his face furrowed in deep thought. “Aidan, I was kidding about the boob thing. I need to change,” I say playfully.
He laughs, standing from the chair. “Conned again.”
He heads to the door and stops with his hand on the knob. He turns around, and his expression is soft. When his blue eyes fall on mine, I feel my heart skip a beat and I swallow hard.
“Leese, I just wanted you to know, whatever you decide to do, I-I’ll be there for you.”
My eyes water. I think back to the night I told him about what I had done with Will and what a mess I was. I told him by accident sort of—well, sort of during a drunken outburst followed by an epic drunken meltdown because I just knew he was going to run straight to Chris and tell him. He and Chris had always been close, just like Chris and I had been close. But with Chris’s going back and forth from Michigan to Chicago, Aidan and I just kept our routine of hanging out and ragging on each other. I never really knew if it was genuine or just done out of loneliness or boredom, but the way he’s looking at me now, I realize that our friendship isn’t just one of convenience or mutual love for another person. It’s real, and I really, really missed it.
AFTER MY APPOINTMENT, Aidan drops me off back at his house, and I hop in my car and head to the grocery store. This time, I get out without any run-ins with my past. I’m able to get enough to fill up the fridge, and with Grams coming back tomorrow, I’m so excited about the stuff she’s going to whip up when she gets back.
As I unload the groceries, I can’t stop thinking about the last time I was in the grocery store and what I told Willa. It’s been almost four days since I saw them, and each time I think of it, I want to smile and cry at the same time, which is why I’ve been trying not to. While I was in California, I thought about her more times than I’d like to admit, but the thoughts were easier to push away. When I called to check on her, I never spoke with her since I thought it’d be easier for her to adjust to living with Will if she didn’t talk to me. Now I can admit that was a lie—not talking to her was easier for me.
I sit at the kitchen table and stare at my phone. I run my hands through my hair and try to think of all the reasons I shouldn’t call him, why it’s better if she doesn’t see me, but I can’t get her face out of my head. I finally bite the bullet and call the number I saved in my phone with just a W. As fast as it’s beating, my heart might as well be on a train. By the third ring, I’m about to chicken out. When I hear his voice, my heart stops completely. Then I remember that he doesn’t have my number and doesn’t know it’s me, because his tone is how it is normally, how it was back before everything happened and he was just Mr. Scott, my best friend’s dad, the man who had generously agreed to tutor me, the guy I had an innocent crush on. Back then, he talked to me with a smile in his voice, the same way he talked to everyone else.
“Hi,” I feel as though it takes all the strength in me to push out one word.
There’s a stretch of silence, then I hear him clear his throat.
“Lisa?” he asks. His voice has changed instantly. It’s gruffer, more restrained, and stiff.
I nod but realize he can’t see me. “Yeah.” I try to relax, but I’m drumming my fingers on the table with my free hand. “I was, um, you said to call, so that’s what I’m doing. I hope it’s a good time—”
“What are you doing here, Lisa?” His tone is cold and like a statement even though he’s asking a question.
It’s expected but throws me off. “I-I just got back.”
“Obviously,” he says shortly.
“I didn’t want to bump into you and her like that . . . I was . . .” I’m at a loss for words, my thoughts a jumbled mess. “I didn’t think. I’m sorry.”
He lets out a long sigh. I wait for him to say something, and when he doesn’t, I rest my head in my hand.
“She asked about you. She’s asked every day since we saw you. Has Lisa called? Is she coming to get me? And I’ve had no idea what to say.”
My stomach drops, and I’m biting my lip so hard I start to taste metal. “I’ve had a lot going on. I didn’t even . . . I’m sorry.”
“You should be. I don’t know what to say to you right now. If you had talked to me directly, before seeing her, I would have told you I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to see her,” he says angrily, and I nod.
“I didn’t think it was either,” I tell him quickly, wiping away the tear in my eye.
“But you told her you would.” His voice is raised and angry, and now I’m confused.
“I don’t know, Will. What do you want me to do or say? Do you want me to see her or not?” I say, feeling my hand shaking.
“What do you want? What do you think is best for her?”
“If I knew that, I wouldn’t have left her with you,” I say honestly.
He’s quiet for a moment. “Look, I’m not trying to be cruel. I just . . . when you have a child, you have to think about how your actions affect them.”
I roll my eyes, but I don’t know if it’s directed at him or me. “Have you told her that I’m not her cousin?” I’m more nervous to hear the answer than to ask the question.
“No.”
That actually makes me more nervous than if he would have said yes. If they had and she wa
s still so excited to see me, then that would have meant she’s not mad at me, that the fallout had already happened.
“Do you plan on ever telling her?” I ask.
“We’ve had with a lot to deal with. Letting her know that the cousin she adores is actually her mom and the person she knew as her mom is really her aunt was more than we could deal with when you left her.”
“She calls you dad though. How did you explain that?” I say childishly.
“She asked to call me dad.”
“So she doesn’t know that you’re her . . .”
“No. Not now. We figured that it was more important for us to get comfortable together and develop a relationship before tearing down all the delusions she’s had,” he says.
I don’t know why I’m surprised. These are the people who kept Chris in the dark for years, but who am I to tell them what Willa should know or not? After I signed those papers, I agreed to have no say in her life at all. Not that I even think I deserve one, but I’m fighting the urge to point out how keeping secrets and half-truths worked out for his oldest child.
“Well, I plan on being here a little while.”
Silence.
“What’s a little while?” he asks, tension seeping through the phone.
I imagine him rubbing his forehead, a key giveaway that he’s stressed. I let out a small breath and try to think. The doctor’s visit today made my pregnancy all too real. Hearing the doctor say things like options and choices that need to be made was definitely a wake-up call that I can’t sit around and pretend as though this isn’t happening. Then I remember Aidan’s face when he first heard the heartbeat, and the butterfly that used to fly solo seems to have found some friends. I can’t even deal with that right now.
“A few months, maybe a year . . .” I say impulsively.
“What are you doing back here?” he asks suspiciously.
“Do you want me to see her or not?” I ask, unable to deal with anything outside of the purpose of this phone call right now.
“You being here long-term changes things, Lisa,” he says, his voice so low it’s almost like a growl.
“What do you mean?”