by Reagan Shaw
“That’s unfair of you. He’s your best friend.”
“Exactly.” Marc spread his arms as if I’d just proved his point. “Which means I know him better than I know anyone else. The guy is…not worth your time.”
“Scum?” I prompted, arching both eyebrows at him. I’d never heard Marc talk about anyone or to anyone the way he’d done with Noah, and it had shocked me.
“I was pissed off, Erika,” Marc snapped. “Obviously, I overreacted, but now that I’ve calmed down a little, I still haven’t changed my mind about this. I’m warning you—”
“You’re warning me?”
“I’m warning you,” he repeated. “Stay the hell away from Noah. He will break your heart without even trying, and I’ll be damned if I stand by and watch it happen to you.”
“I’m afraid that’s not your choice to make anymore.” Already this was too complicated. I’d been unsure about Noah from the start, terrified of getting hurt by him, and now, being with him would negatively affect the pretty solid relationship I’d always had with my brother.
We’d fought as siblings did, but we loved each other, we respected each other. Or we had until little over an hour ago.
“I don’t need your help,” I said.
Marc had gone the color of puce. The shade reddened quickly. He clenched his fists, glaring and hot-headed all over again. “Erika.”
“I don’t need anyone dictating to me how I live my life. If I choose to see Noah again, you’ll just have to deal with it.”
“I forbid it,” Marc replied, and clapped his hands once, as if he were a king and I was his loyal subject. “That’s my last say on the matter.”
“Well, isn’t that cute. You forbid it? Who are you, God?”
“I forbid it,” he repeated.
“Fuck you.” I wasn’t the rebellious type, but this made me want to fetch Noah from wherever he’d gone and start promptly making out with him. It was childish, for sure, but my brother’s take on the situation was more so. “This is my life, Marc. You can get out if you’re going to talk to me like that.”
“Erika, please,” he said and once again, the color drained away. What was with these mood swings? It so wasn’t my brother. He’d always been the responsible one, even-keeled and always willing to do his due diligence regarding everything in the family or home.
“What’s really going on here Marc? Why are you so freaked about this?”
“I told you why.”
“There’s got to be more to it than that.”
“I just don’t trust him,” Marc said, again, then cleared his throat. “And, if you must know, he and Jessie had a fling before he disappeared off to college. Before Jess and I officially got together.”
I froze, stared at him, wide-eyed. “Huh?” The words simply didn’t make sense to my ears. Jess and I had drifted apart over the years, ever since she’d first started dating Marc and become more his friend and lover than my best friend, but she’d surely known.
She’d stood up for me when Nancy had teased me about Noah. She’d always been there for me. The fact that she’d have done that…
“It was at the bonfire at the end of your senior year,” Marc said, clearing his throat. “Jess and I were on the rocks. We hadn’t spoken in months, and that happened. I stayed friends with him because I knew that it meant nothing to either of them, but it’s still there, you know? In the back of my head.”
I cleared my throat and turned it over in my mind, probing my feelings. “It was seventeen years ago,” I said at last.
“I know, and I’m over it, but I still believe that he’s that guy.”
I shook my head, not because I didn’t agree, just at how absurd this situation was. All the high-school secrets coming to light when I was a grown-ass woman. None of it really mattered, but the fact that Marc’s wife, my now sister-in-law and ex-best friend, had been with the man I’d started falling for—no, you can’t fall for him. You can’t.
It added another layer of complication to the mish-mash of already mucked-up crap that signified the past couple months.
He’d slept with my once-best friend. He’d told me he loved me.
What was I supposed to make of all of this? It was too confused.
“What does any of this matter?” I muttered.
“It matters. Look, I saw him a couple months ago with another woman at the Chestnut. On a date.”
My heart flipped over. Another woman? It didn’t count, of course. Noah could have slept with whomever he wanted a couple months ago. He could’ve dated a supermodel. We hadn’t been committed to each other then, and we weren’t now.
Except he’d told me he loved me.
“Don’t you see? He uses people and then he leaves them. No doubt he cared for whoever that woman was too.” Marc reached out and squeezed my arms. “I just want you safe. I want you careful.”
“It’s too complicated,” I said, at last.
“He’s bad for you,” Marc agreed.
And it sank in piece by piece. How could he truly love me? How could he care when we’d only recently opened up to each other? What we had had burned bright and hot, but it was over now. It would fizzle out, and he’d become just another name. Another face from my past.
And I’ll be alone again.
“I need time to think,” I said, softly. “I need to be alone.”
“You should come stay the night with Jess and me. Seriously. You can’t be alone on Christmas Eve,” Marc replied, and drew me into a hug.
“I’m fine. This is the way I want it. I need this time to be alone, OK? Trust me.”
He shrugged, drew back. “Fine. It’s your choice. Stay safe, sis, and Merry Christmas.”
I snorted a laugh. “Right.”
Marc left me to my thoughts, shutting the hotel room door behind him. I waited a few minutes, then rose and walked to my bags, began packing. I had to wipe myself clean of Noah, of every thought I’d had of him, and stick with my original plan.
Focus on my career, be the person I’d set out to be. Grow stronger on my own. I forced myself to focus on those thoughts and nothing else, but the hollowness in my chest drew my focus again and again.
By the time I reached the lobby, on the phone to Luna, I was in tears.
Hands down, worst Christmas ever.
Erika
Five weeks later
* * *
“There are so many options,” I said, smiling at the hopeful couple who sat on the sofa in front of me. “In vitro fertilization is just one of them, so I don’t want you to pin all your hopes on that.”
Greg, dark-haired and a little overweight, with a great big beard, exchanged a glance with Milly, his wife, who was tiny by comparison and had a sweet, squeaky voice which reminded me a little of Luna’s. They squeezed hands and faced me again. “We’ve been through a lot to get here,” Milly said. “We just wanted to know that we have a chance.”
“Of course you do,” I replied and tamped down on the sorrow creeping up my throat. “Thank you for coming in today, guys.” I smiled at them, then rose from my seat, powder-pink to match the décor in the consultation room. “I’ll have a diagnosis for you once that bloodwork comes back, and then we’ll discuss all the options available to you.”
The couple rose too, still holding hands. “We just want a baby,” Greg said. “Any news from you will be good news.”
“We hope,” Milly giggled.
“Of course,” I replied. “I’ll be in touch.” I walked them to the door of the consultation room, then opened it and showed them out into the quaint lobby of the fertility clinic. Sweet pictures decorated the walls, Anne Geddes paintings, and a bubbling coffee pot in the corner, next to a lime-and-lemon-slice-filled water jug.
“Thank you so much, Dr. Gray,” Milly said. “You’ve already been a huge help.”
“Anything I can do to make the process easier from my side, I will do. That I promise you.” And with that, they were gone, and the nausea returned.
> I managed to control it during consultations, but the minute I was alone, it rushed back. I’d spent the past week on the verge of throwing up, and I was so over it. Maybe it’s just a symptom of the new job.
The fertility clinic was a boon—a private practice and an interview I’d gotten all on my own this time, thank you very much—but it was still stressful, being on my own again. We’d officially moved back into Luna’s apartment now that the water damage had been repaired, and I was done at St. Katherine’s, but I still thought about Noah almost every single day.
That month after my resignation had been hellish. I’d avoided him, ignored his calls, and hoped he’d get the picture, but he hadn’t. He’d walked me to my car in silence every single night. And now, he was gone. Or rather, I was gone, working somewhere else and free, except it didn’t feel very exciting or fulfilling without him around.
“Silly,” I muttered and clicked my tongue, clicking the consultation room’s door closed and heading down the hall toward my office. I didn’t have another appointment for the rest of the afternoon, which meant I could catch up on some clerical work and try, but fail, to ignore the bubbling in my stomach.
I reached my office, walked around to my desk, and lowered myself into it, shaking my head.
It had to be stress. Had to be.
My desk phone rang and I picked up the receiver, pressed it to my ear. “Dr. Gray’s office,” I said. “This is Dr. Gray.”
“What a way to answer the phone,” Luna said, down the line. “How are you today, gorgeous? Still feeling ill?”
“As sick as a dog,” I said. “I’m thinking of going to see my GP. I figure getting a vitamin B injection will alleviate the stress, you know? No stress, no nausea.”
“Hmmm.”
“What?” I asked.
“How much longer are you going to be at work?”
“Not much longer,” I replied, “maybe a half an hour or so, why?”
“Because I’ve got something waiting for you at home, and I need you to come see it, right now.”
“Oh god, what is it?” The last time Luna has said that, she’d sprang a surprise painting on me. A horrific picture which depicted scenes of medieval torture. She’d been so impressed with herself too and made a big deal out of the brush strokes while talking about Impressionism.
“It’s not a painting. Listen, I’ll be home in fifteen. Meet me there, OK? It’s important.” She hung up without another word and I frowned at my phone. Luna hardly ever acted mysteriously, unless it was to give me a fright before bed.
She was big on giving scares—firmly believed it strengthened the heart.
I sighed and placed the phone in its cradle, then stared at it. Noah couldn’t call me here, simply because he didn’t have my number, and that should’ve been a comfort to me. Instead, it made me sad. I was raw inside after everything that’d happened. Cautious too.
“Fuck it,” I muttered and shut off my PC.
Twenty minutes later, I entered our apartment and shut the door behind myself, inhaling the scent of vanilla incense. This was Luna’s calming ritual after a long day at work. I entered the living room and found her sitting with a glass of wine in hand, one leg crossed over the other.
“All right,” I said. “Where is it? Where’s the tableau of violence and despair?”
“Very funny,” Luna replied, then nodded to the coffee table. “There it is.”
I followed her line of sight. My stomach clenched tight. “Luna?” There was a pregnancy test sitting in the middle of the table, still firmly wrapped up. “Luna, what the hell?”
“Trust me on this one,” she said.
“Is this some kind of joke?” I asked. “Why would you do this? You know I can’t have babies. You know—”
“Oh, give it a rest.” Luna waved away my heartfelt protest, then got up and grabbed the pregnancy test. She foisted it into my hands and my fingers fumbled over the plastic.
“Luna!”
“Erika, when’s the last time you had your period?” she asked.
And I blinked, the anger fading from my system fast. Shoot, I hadn’t bothered counting. To be honest, the minute I’d found out I had a practically zero percent chance of having a baby with Jason, I’d quit counting. It had to have been a couple weeks ago, right?
But wait, no, I hadn’t had a period in… Not since—my eyes widened. “Impossible,” I said. “That’s impossible.”
“Are you on the pill?” Luna asked.
“No, I’m not. But that doesn’t matter. I was diagnosed. I was—”
“And how often do miracles happen when it comes to babies?” Luna asked. “Pretty often I wager. Besides, have you seen Noah’s jawline? The man is clearly brimming with testosterone. I bet he has bionic swimmers.”
My heart thumped against the inside of my ribcage like a drummer on drugs. Holy fucking shit. This couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be. Oh please, let it be real.
I welled up.
If it were true, if I was pregnant by some absolute miracle, I’d of course keep the baby. This had been my dream, to be a mother. I couldn’t even think of what it meant for Noah, right now.
“Erika?” Luna poked my arm. “Are you still breathing?”
“Huh? Yes,” I whispered. “Oh my god.”
“Tell me about it. So, do you feel like peeing on a stick this evening?” Luna asked and checked her watch. “Because if you’re pregnant, I want to drink, and I bought nonalcoholic for you. And if you’re not, well there’s some hardtack in the fridge and pizza on my speed dial.”
I dragged my best friend into a hug, squeezing her so tight, she squeaked. “Thank you,” I whispered.
“Hurry up, goddammit. I’ve been freaking out about this all week.”
I wobbled my way to the bathroom, unwrapping the test and reading the instructions thoroughly, even though I’d taken what’d felt like a hundred of these things when I’d dated Jason. I entered the bathroom, shut the door, and gave myself a wide-eyed stare in the mirror over the sink.
“Oh my god,” I muttered.
I did my business. I peed on the stick. I capped it, washed up, and watched it calculating out of the corner of my eye.
Luna bashed her fist on the bathroom door. “Are you seriously going to wait it out in there alone? Get your ass out here, Erika Gray, before I drag you out.”
I managed a laugh, which sounded more like an exhalation, and made my way out, gripping the test in my hand, covering the window with my fingers.
“How much longer?” Luna asked, and slurped down some wine.
“A minute,” I said.
We made a silent procession through to the living room and sat down on the sofa side by side. I placed the test on the coffee table, despite Luna’s protest at getting pee everywhere, and shut my eyes.
What if I was pregnant? What would I say to Noah? How would I even broach the topic after I’d spent the past four or five weeks ignoring him flat? “Oh hey, sorry I never called you after my brother interrupted our last night together. By the way, I’m pregnant with your unborn child. How’s work?”
I giggled hysterically at the thought.
“Are you OK?” Luna asked.
“Not really,” I said, and peeked through my fingers at the test. “I think it’s time.” I picked up the stick and studied the result, emotion clogging my throat, tears spilling down my cheeks now. I sniveled and wiped my nose on the back of my hand—très attractive.
“Well?” Luna asked. “Well?”
“It’s positive,” I said. “I’m pregnant.”
Erika
“What are you going to do?” Luna asked immediately, and drew me into a hug. “Oh my gosh, stop crying. If you cry, I’m going to cry.”
But I couldn’t stop—the tears were cathartic. All the hopes and dreams I’d had about being a mother, all of them, they came rushing back. They weren’t even hopes anymore. This was real. I was actually pregnant.
“Oh my god,” I exhaled. “Oh
my god.” I gripped my forehead. “Oh my god.”
“Just sinking in, is it?” Luna asked, and chuckled. “Oh my god is right. This is amazing. I so hoped this would happen for you one day, especially after everything with that other asshole whose name we shall not speak. Hold on, let me get you that nonalcoholic wine.” She rose from the sofa and rushed off to the kitchen, while I sat staring at the pregnancy test.
I turned it over and over, then put it down, picked it up again. I’d keep it forever, as gross as that was, because this was the one thing I’d hoped would happen for me. And believed never would.
What the hell is Noah going to say about this?
Luna bustled back into the living room, carrying two glasses this time—one filled with dark red liquid, and the other with sparkling white. “The red is yours,” she said. “That way, we won’t get them mixed up.”
I accepted the glass from her, and she sat down. We clinked the glasses together, then took a sip apiece.
“So?” Luna asked. “What are your first thoughts as a pregnant woman?”
“That I’ve got a lot of planning to do,” I replied and looked around the apartment. “God, I don’t even have my own place.”
“So? You can stay here until you find another one, even after the baby’s born. You don’t really think I’ll abandon you, do you? I’m not a lowlife.”
“I didn’t think that,” I replied, pressing a hand to my abdomen. My baby. I choked on emotion again. “But I do have to have my own place. We can’t stay here with you forever. We need our own little home, and I’m going to have to figure that out as I go.”
“I have full faith in you,” Luna said. “But don’t you think you’re getting a bit ahead of yourself here? You still have to get through the pregnancy.”
I laughed, joy practically streaming from every part of me. From my pores. No one could take this moment away from me. “I think, the first thing I have to do is get hold of Noah. If he even wants to speak to me after the way I acted.”
