by Iris Morland
I stared at my sad glass of water and scowled. “Why did I agree to go to a bar with you tonight? When I can’t even drink?”
“Because if I had to listen to you crying at some Hallmark romcom for the thousandth time, I was going to lose it.” Naoko, dressed in a short blue romper with her hair in twin buns, kept catching looks from most of the men at the bar. But Naoko being Naoko, she didn’t even notice the stares. It’d be annoying if she weren’t so charming.
“I wasn’t crying,” I shot back. “Well, except for that one about the dog. Naoko, the dog ran away and they couldn’t find it.” Tears pooled in my eyes. Damn hormones. “And then the little boy found him because he knew the dog would always come if he heard his voice—”
“Oh my God, stop. Please don’t start crying in the middle of the bar.” Despite her words, Naoko squeezed my hand. “Even though you can’t get wasted, we’re still having fun. And then we’re going to play some video games. I heard they just got in a new Pac-Man game and I know you live for Pac-Man.”
“I prefer Ms. Pac-Man.”
Naoko pursed her lips. “I guess pregnancy would make me a lesbian, too.”
I snorted, my tears evaporating. At least for the time being. It had been a few days since I’d met with Lochlann and had that ever so enlightening discussion with him. I’d considered being a total creep and finding out his address to go throw something at him. Rotten fruit, dog poop, my used pregnancy tests.
He’d had the nerve to act like only his life was in trouble here. He hadn’t cared a bit about me: it was all about his reputation, his career. Of course, he had no idea about the fetus-zygote-embryo growing inside me right this second. I placed a hand over my stomach, as if I’d be able to feel it when it was currently the size of a plum.
(Was it weird that I was craving plums at the moment? Did that mean I actually wanted to eat my baby?)
I wouldn’t be able to hide this pregnancy for much longer. Even though I practically owned stock in the baggy sweatshirt department, people would probably notice when I came waddling into class with a huge belly come February.
“You’re seriously not going to tell him?” said Naoko, breaking my thoughts, her gaze on my hand over my stomach.
“No. Maybe.” I sighed. “I don’t know.”
When I’d arrived back at our apartment after my meeting with Lochlann, I’d been so steamed that I’d told Naoko about our conversation, although I’d left out the less savory details. She didn’t need to know Lochlann had talked about how I’d come all over his fingers. Some things were TMI, even for me.
“It’s not that I don’t think I need to, I just don’t know how to do it.”
Right then, Naoko’s boyfriend Henry came over to sit with us. Tall and almost gangly, Henry had a tendency to bump into things all the time. I’d seem him trip over his own feet more than once. He was like a puppy dog who had yet to figure out how his own limbs worked. It was endearing, although I’d always wondered if sex with him involved a lot of elbows in the face.
“You don’t know how to do what?” asked Henry. “Don’t you know everything?”
I stuck out my tongue. Henry was a bit like the older brother I’d never had. Whereas he planned every moment of his life and found great pleasure in alphabetizing his comics, I was more of a fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants kind of gal with a side of overconfidence in my ability to accomplish tasks.
“I’ve never said I know everything,” I countered.
“I’m pretty sure your exact words a few weeks ago were, ‘I know everything and you know nothing.’”
“I was talking about the theme that existence is pointless in Rick and Morty. Not everything ever in the history of forever.”
“I’m pretty sure you meant everything ever in the history of forever.”
“Okay, you guys, cool it.” Naoko took Henry’s arm, patting his skinny chest. “How was sax practice, babe?”
“My favorite reed finally cracked so I had to use a new one.” Henry sighed. “I hate having to use a new reed.”
“Yeah, but you get to suck on a new piece of wood,” I said.
Naoko kicked me under the table. Henry, lost in thought about his saxophone troubles, didn’t even hear me.
I’d made Naoko swear on pain of death not to tell Henry about this whole Lochlann situation, including my pregnancy. Henry was a good guy, but he was terrible at keeping secrets. He’d blab to one of his saxophone friends and then I’d be screwed—more than I already was.
Although Henry considered himself to be more of a musician, he’d initially entered college as an engineering major. Mostly to appease his parents. When he’d subsequently switched to being a musical education major, his mom and dad had only spoken to him through his brother for six months straight. One time his brother had even tried to give me a message for Henry when Naoko had been out of town. He’d stopped by the apartment like some weirdo who didn’t know the Internet existed. Suffice to say we’d all been relieved when Henry's parents had finally decided to speak with him again like normal people.
“So how’s the research going?” said Henry to me as he stole some French fries. He stuffed them into his mouth and I was fairly certain he didn’t even chew them before swallowing.
“Babe, you’re going to choke if you eat so fast,” said Naoko.
“You look like a human vacuum cleaner,” was my comment.
Henry just threw some more fries into his wide, gaping mouth. “If you didn’t want me to eat your food, you shouldn’t have invited me out.”
I snorted. “I didn’t invite you, and those are my fries.”
“Who’s your advisor again? I feel like you told me, but I have the attention span of a squirrel.” Henry sighed. “I misplaced my sheet music yesterday. I eventually found it in the fridge.”
“How did it get in the fridge?” said Naoko.
Henry shrugged. “No idea.” He looked at me and added, “I had a huge crush on Dr. Martin. She’s so hot. Please tell me you have her, Kate.”
“Wait, are you my boyfriend or not?” Naoko flicked Henry’s ear, which he hated. He squawked, giving me time to collect my thoughts.
“Her advisor is a new professor,” said Naoko a moment later. “You wouldn’t know him.”
“A new one? Who?” Henry pulled at his now reddened ear.
“No, I have Dr. Gallagher. He’s from Ireland and he was just hired.” I tried to sound as nonchalant as possible, like Lochlann was a sixty-five-year-old professor with a love for tweed and hot cups of tea when his joints ached. But then again, Lochlann would probably look smoking hot in a tweed jacket with elbow patches.
“Oh, you know what,” said Henry, “I heard Jamie talking to Marianne about him. She said she’d ‘hit it like the fist of an angry god.’ Which I’m assuming means he’s hot. Is he hot?”
Naoko rolled her eyes and mouthed sorry to me.
“Why, do you want to date him?” I countered.
“Don’t know anything about him. Besides, even if dudes were my thing, Naoko would lock me up in her basement if I tried to leave her.”
“I don’t even have a basement, you weirdo,” said Naoko.
Luckily, Naoko and Henry playfully bickered, letting me off the hook in terms of describing how hot Lochlann was. It didn’t surprise me that other students were slavering over him, though. Not only did he have an Irish accent, he was handsome and brilliant. He was like the jackpot of men. If I didn’t hate him so much, I’d consider myself fortunate to have gotten him as my advisor.
But the little parasite inside me only served to remind me that nothing about my situation was fortunate at the moment.
As the evening progressed, the bar became more packed with students. It had been a warm day, especially for Seattle, and the lack of air conditioning made the air stagnant and humid. Sweat beaded on my forehead and upper lip. As I finished my second glass of water, my stomach lurched.
Shit, I did not want to puke in this dive bar’s janky bathroom. I’d
probably get hepatitis from the toilet seat.
I must’ve turned pale, because Naoko said, “Are you okay?”
“I just need to pee.” When I stepped off the high barstool, my vision blurred, but I was able to grab on to the edge of the table to steady myself.
“Kate? Are you okay?” Henry was peering closely at me.
“Sorry, yeah, I’m fine. I just got down too fast.” I stepped away, my vision clearing but my stomach about to revolt. The turkey sandwich I’d eaten two hours ago was threatening to make an appearance right here in the middle of the bar.
I pushed my way through the crowd. It was so loud and crowded that it felt like an eternity before I reached the bathroom in the back. I was sweating bullets at this point, and when my vision blurred, I had to lean against the wall to keep myself from falling over.
“Ms. Wright,” said a voice that was from both my dreams and my nightmares.
Lochlann stood before me, tall and imperious, wearing a pair of glasses that only served to make his nose more hawk-like. It didn’t help that he looked super judgy gazing down at me, as if my mere presence offended him. He then looked me up and down and scowled.
“You’re rat-arsed,” he said.
I squinted up at him. “Excuse me?”
“Smashed. Drunk.” He wrinkled his oh-so-imperious nose. “Are you here alone?”
Christ, he thought I was drunk, when I was just about to puke my guts up because his swimmers were overly ambitious. I tried to push past him, but, to my consternation, he stopped me.
“Are you here alone?” he repeated.
I was the one to scowl now. “Why do you care? I don’t have to tell you anything.”
“Getting drunk alone? You know better than that.”
“Do I? Isn’t that how we met in the first place? You didn’t seem too upset when you saw me alone at that bar in Dublin.”
We stared at each other, the tension only increasing. I was now so pissed at him that I’d almost forgotten my rolling stomach—almost being the operative word here.
“You weren’t drunk then,” he countered. “Not like this.”
Right then, my stomach heaved. But worse, I felt my vision blurring again. Either I was going to puke, faint, or just die. I hoped it was the third option. Death seemed a better option than vomiting on Lochlann’s shoes or fainting like a damsel in distress.
Lochlann seemed to sense something was wrong because his expression turned concerned. “Kate, are you all right?”
I was about to say something, but before my lips could form the words my vision turned black before I fainted in Lochlann’s arms.
Chapter Ten
Lochlann
I stared at the cold, white tile of the hospital, waiting for news about Kate. When she’d collapsed into my arms, her face as white as a ghost, fear like none other had gripped me. I’d laid her down on the sticky floor of the bar, yelling something about calling for an ambulance. My brain couldn’t come up with the emergency number for here in the States; the only numbers I could think of were 999 or 112, both Irish numbers.
A few seconds later, Kate had opened her eyes, only to vomit profusely. I’d helped her sit up so she didn’t aspirate, something a buddy of mine in college had done when he’d got so rat-arsed that he’d inhaled his own vomit and had got pneumonia as a result.
I tapped my foot on the hospital floor, rubbing my hands together. Kate’s two friends, one of whom had found us and had dialed for an ambulance, sat across from me. If they were confused as to why Kate’s advisor was waiting around for her in the hospital they could stay confused. I wasn’t about to go home and not find out what was wrong with her. It might be overkill to bring her to the ER, but it was better safe than sorry.
Naoko and Henry had tried to go back with Kate, but Kate had been conscious enough to tell them to stay in the waiting room for now. You don’t need to see me naked, she’d joked.
She hadn’t looked at me
The boy—Henry was his name, which he’d told me when I’d demanded to know how they knew Kate—kept glancing at me. His girlfriend, Naoko, was typing away on her phone.
“Should we call her parents?” said Henry to no one in particular.
“I don’t have their number,” said Naoko. “I guess I could message them on Facebook.”
“She’s not a minor.” My tone was sharper than I’d intended, and I softened it a bit as I added, “I imagine Kate—Ms. Wright—would prefer we ask her first before messaging them.”
Naoko’s forehead crinkled, which made me think she disagreed with me. It wasn’t that I didn’t want Kate’s family to come, but what was the point of distressing them when we didn’t know yet what was wrong?
You’re not her family either, my mind whispered.
She’d fainted right in front of me. Only a heartless bastard would leave at this point. That was at least what I told myself to justify me sitting around and waiting in this ER.
A number of people had come and gone through the automatic doors: a lot of students, given how close the hospital was to campus, but some were older folks, some were parents with children. An infant cried fitfully in its mother’s arms, the mother shushing it every few seconds.
“Did you know that you have to pay mileage when you take an ambulance?” said Henry, stretching his gangly legs.
Taken aback, I said, “Are you bloody serious?” I knew the States had fucked-up healthcare, but it hadn’t crossed my mind that Kate might be hit with a huge bill for this ER visit when I’d demanded someone call an ambulance.
Both Naoko and Henry blinked at my harsh tone. Henry finally said, “Yeah. Happened when I broke my arm last year and had to call 911. They charge you for the ride and the mileage.”
“That’s terrible,” said Naoko.
Henry nodded. “Good thing this place was so close to the bar.”
Too worried about Kate, I pushed aside the anxiety that filled me listening to Henry. I didn’t need another thing to add to this terror building inside me. If Kate were truly sick, if she ended up in the hospital for days, if she were diagnosed with some serious condition...
An hour passed with no update, despite Naoko going up to the check-in desk to ask if someone could speak with us. I considered simply going back and finding Kate, but she’d tell me to get lost. I couldn’t blame her; I’d been an absolute gobshite to her the last time we’d met.
When Naoko and Henry went in search of a vending machine, a nurse finally came out to speak with us. “I’m sorry it’s taken this long,” she said, her expression clearly harried. “It’s been a crazy night already. Are you a relation of Ms. Wright?”
“Yes,” I lied, because I wanted to know her condition and I knew I’d never get to see her otherwise. “I’m her boyfriend,” I added. Please let her friends get lost in the hospital...
“Oh, well, she’s doing all right. She vomited a second time, but we’re giving her fluids and an anti-nausea medication that’s helping. The ultrasound tech will be here to check on the fetus, but we’re pretty sure she just got herself dehydrated.”
I didn’t hear a word after the nurse said fetus. Kate was pregnant? How far along was she?
“You can go see her,” the nurse said, looking at me strangely before she went to speak with another family.
I sat down heavily, my head about to explode from this piece of news. It must be her boyfriend’s baby—the boyfriend I’d assumed she’d made up. Steve, that was his name. The guy who made lasagna.
When Naoko and Henry returned with their sodas and some candy, Henry handed me a can of seltzer. “I should’ve asked what you wanted, but it’s better than nothing.”
I smiled gamely. “Thanks.”
“Any news?” said Naoko.
“Does Kate have a boyfriend?” I said, feeling my heart thump heavily inside my chest.
Henry laughed. “Kate? No way. She’s super single.” When Naoko elbowed him, he yelped. “What? She’s the one who always says that!”
Naoko gave me a weird look before staring at her feet. “I’m not sure that’s really something you need to know about.”
“The nurse asked me. I didn’t know the answer. Kate had mentioned a guy named Steve when we’d met, but I didn’t know about their relationship.” More lies. My Catholic mam would’ve beat my arse if she’d heard how many lies I’d told tonight.
“Steve?” Henry’s nose wrinkled. “The only Steve I know is Steve Winkler. Pretty sure he’s gay, though. He plays the flute.”
“What does him playing the flute have to do with his sexual orientation?” was my question.
Henry shrugged. “Never met a straight flautist, and I’ve known a lot.”
“I’m sure Kate knows people you don’t know,” interjected Naoko.
“Not true. We’re her only friends, unless there’s a Steve in the materials department. Could be one of the incoming students.” Henry pulled out his phone, now on the hunt for this Steve person.
Henry’s mouth pulled into an O of surprise. “No, not that Steve. No, too old. No, too young. Oh wait, he’s an engineering student.” Henry showed me his phone, showing me the Instagram account of this Steve.
The photos ranged from blurry shots of birds to clearer shots of more birds. A ridiculous amount of birds. There was one photo of Steve, a giant macaw on his shoulder, Steve kissing the bird’s beak. The caption read My best girl.
“I think he already has a girlfriend,” I said wryly before I handed Henry his phone back.
“Hey, you never know. If he’s in the engineering department, maybe they hooked up.” Henry showed Naoko the profile. “He seems like somebody Kate would have sex with, doncha think?”
“Oh my God, we are not having this conversation,” hissed Naoko.
“We have to solve this mystery. If Kate said she was dating someone to Dr. Gallagher, then she must be dating somebody. She’s a terrible liar,” said Henry.
Henry proceeded to show me more Steve profiles: one Steve was shaved bald and seemed to have an affinity for large knives; another was clearly engaged to another woman; another looked like he was all of fifteen.
