It was my turn to snort, and Annie pointed a finger at me. “You don’t know, I think he might like you. He gave you the job right away, didn’t he? You could end up with this guy!”
“I am not going to end up with him,” I laughed. “His last name is Wright, for God’s sake.”
“So what?”
“So, I’m not going to end up with a man whose name, literally, is Mr. Wright. The universe doesn’t have a sense of humor that good.”
* * *
The Saturday before I was due to start work, my happy bubble burst a little bit. Catherine called.
“Hello, Virginia,” she said, her voice as expressionless as ever. “Your father and I haven’t heard from you in quite some time. I thought I should call and make sure you’re still alive.” I sighed. This was already off to a great start.
“Of course I’m fine, Mother,” I answered. “I’ve just been busy lately. How are you? How’s Dad?”
“Oh, we’re fine, I suppose. Your father’s knee has been acting up, and I still have my headaches, of course, but outside of that we’re doing well.”
This was how it always went when I talked to either of my parents. Formal, stilted, cold small talk. I suppose it was better than the screaming matches that had characterized my adolescence. That was the benefit of putting twelve hundred miles between us—it was much harder to drive each other to yelling when they were in Florida and I was in Detroit.
They had moved shortly after I went away to college. They sold my childhood house and bought a place in Clearwater, several miles from the beach. I had been there only twice. They kept a small condo here in Michigan and came home a few months out of the year. But our contact was drastically limited now. I’m not sure which of us was more relieved.
“How have you been, Virginia?” Catherine asked. “You say you’ve been busy? With what?” I noted the condescension in her voice, and felt my skin begin to prickle.
My mother had been less than sympathetic when Josh and I broke up. When I moved home after graduation with no grand career, she clearly felt vindicated. For all my swagger throughout my teen years that I was going to be wildly successful and different from her when I grew up, I had turned out to be a broke, single nanny. Not anything like what I had sneeringly promised her all those years ago.
“Well, I actually got a new job this week, Mother,” I answered, knowing this would garner no respect. Store clerk was not much up from a nanny in her book.
“Really?” she asked. “What will you be doing?”
I explained about the job.
“That sounds…nice,” she replied.
God, she irritated me. Why had she called at all? She couldn’t care less about my life. Had she asked about Annie or Jen, or the house? Of course not. She still thought I was so beneath her. Feeling a spiteful stab of rage within me, I decided it was time she really heard what I had been up to lately.
“Something else exciting has happened, Mother,” I said as sweetly as I could. “I actually found out several weeks ago that I’m going to have a baby.”
There was complete silence on her end of the phone. I felt a surge of vindictive pleasure. “Did you hear me, Mother?” I asked, in that same sweet voice. “I’m pregnant. I’ll be having a baby at the end of July.”
“Whose is it?” she whispered, her voice shaking. I felt a momentary pang of regret. Of course I shouldn’t have told her like that. I always let my anger and irritation get the better of me with her. But she just had to wind me up, didn’t she?
“Virgina McKensie,” she demanded, her voice steady and firm now, cold. “I asked you a question, young lady. Who is responsible for this…this bastard?”
I felt like she had slapped me. I shouldn’t be surprised she would use such language—I had heard it all, and much worse, before, back in my wild teen years. She had warned me that sluts ended up unmarried with bastard children. But to hear it now, now when it was real, was an entirely different matter. Any regret I had felt was long gone. Now I only wanted to hurt her, as much as I could.
“I really have no idea whose baby it is,” I said casually. “There’ve been so many men, you see.” And with that, I promptly hung up the phone.
Chapter Twelve
Eighteen Weeks: Your little bundle of joy continues to change in big ways! By now your baby is actually able to hear sounds! Many parents enjoy stimulating this new sense of hearing. Take this time to talk to Baby and encourage Daddy to do the same. Many couples also enjoy playing soothing music for Baby. Some studies suggest what Baby hears now will have an effect on his intelligence and emotional well-being for years to come!—Dr. Rebecca Carr, A Gal’s Guide to a Fabulous First Pregnancy!
I swore a lot over the next few hours. This was a typical side-effect from talking to my mother. In days past, a conversation on par with this one would have led me straight to a bar, or at least the nearest liquor cabinet. Jen assured me that doing so now would have a detrimental effect on the baby (I had been hoping those doctors’ warnings were just for show).
Since booze was not available to me, and I could no longer lose myself in a guy, as I may have done pre-Josh, I resorted to food. Food and swearing.
After telling the whole sordid tale to Jen, she took pity on me and started cooking. I had found that with the second trimester, many of the foods that used to set me off were now appetizing once again. I was very happy about this fact as I tucked into a huge plate of Jen’s lasagna. I finished that off with a nice bowl of peanut butter ice cream. Unsatisfied by the gorge-fest, I called Annie and asked her to bring home as much chocolate and potato chips as she could manage.
I spent the next hour eating. All the while I ranted at Jen and Annie about my mother. They had heard it all before—it was a sign of the strength of our friendship that they listened so patiently. When I finally started to exhaust myself on the topic, Jen suggested we get out of the house and take a walk. It was still pretty frigid out, but Annie assured me the cold air would chill out my temper.
We headed out into our neighborhood. It was dark now, and the stars above us were unusually bright in the clear sky.
After a few moments Jen broke the silence. “So, have you thought at all about baby names?” she asked.
“Uh, no, not really,” I replied, caught somewhat off-guard.
“Seriously?” Annie asked, clearly surprised.
“I guess I haven’t given it much thought.” I shrugged.
“Well let’s think about it!” Annie said excitedly.
“Oh no, let’s not. I don’t want to talk about that.” The truth was, I hadn’t thought a whole lot about the baby itself since finding out it was coming. I mean, intellectually, yes, I knew there was going to be a living, real life baby in our house in a matter of months. But every time I tried to picture it, tried to imagine holding it, I would be overwhelmed with images of Josh in my head. I just couldn’t deal with that.
“I think it should be a literary name, since you love books so much,” Annie said, clearly ignoring my protests.
“Yeah, that’s a good idea!” Jen agreed. “What’re your favorite books?”
“Um, I don’t know...there’s too many.” I was being evasive, and I knew it, but my friends didn’t seem to care.
“You love Harry Potter!” Jen said. “You’ve read those books about a hundred times. Why not pick a name from that?”
“Ooh!” Annie cried. “Name the baby Dumbledore! That would be unique!”
I laughed in spite of myself. “I’m not naming my baby Dumbledore.”
“Maybe a book about wizards isn’t the best place to find a name,” Jen said seriously. “Pick a different book.”
I decided to play along—after all, I would have to figure this out sometime. “I really love Jane Austen books,” I said. “Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility…there are some great, classic names in those books. Eliza, Eleanor, Charlotte...”
“Pretty!” Jen breathed. “Oh, Ginny, I really like those. I can so pictu
re you with a little Eliza!”
“Okay,” Annie said. “But what if it’s a boy?”
She was met with silence. Shit. I had never considered that I might have a boy. I was going to be a single girl raising a kid with my two best girl friends—I had to have a girl.
“Nah,” Jen said after a while. “It’s a girl. I just know it.”
* * *
We lasted only a few more blocks out in the cold before taking refuge in our little house. Annie and Jen decided to settle in with a movie, but I made my excuses and headed up to my room. Talking with the girls about baby names had left me with a strange feeling. Somehow the baby seemed more real to me tonight than it had before. More like reality, and less like an idea.
With that feeling came another: guilt. Guilt that Josh had no idea what was going on. I had my reasons for chickening out before, more than I had told the girls, but they were right: Josh deserved to know.
I took a deep breath, picked up my phone, and found his name in my contacts. Squeezing my eyes shut tight, I pressed the call button. The phone rang once, twice—and then, with a clicking noise, a recording picked up. It wasn’t Josh’s voice—it was an operator. “The cellular customer you are trying to call can no longer be reached at this number. Please try again.”
I felt like I had been punched in the stomach. Josh had changed his cell number? Josh had changed his cell number and not told me. I couldn’t reach him. He didn’t want me to reach him. With rising panic, I stumbled to the bathroom, where I proceeded to puke up all the comfort food I had ingested in the last two hours.
Chapter Thirteen
To me, the word contentment could be summed up by one picture, one memory: me and Josh lying on our bed, wrapped around each other, just talking. Whether we were getting ready to sleep, or we had just made love, or we were simply being lazy with books or movies, we were closest when we were simply lying together.
There was one day, one perfect day, about two years ago. We were in our apartment. We had just eaten breakfast and decided to go back to bed. It was raining outside. I was completely comfortable in Josh’s arms, absolutely at peace. In those moments, I could tell him anything, any wish or fear or idea, and he would understand me.
“I had a dream last night,” he whispered in my ear. I knew from the sound of his voice that he was smiling. More than that, I knew which smile he was smiling. Josh had so many different smiles—excited, introspective, amused. The huge smile that would appear on his face for only a second before he broke into a loud, uncontrollable laugh. My favorite was the one I imagined on his face now—the small, half-smile that meant he was thinking of something beautiful.
“What was your dream?” I whispered back.
“We had a baby,” he said, chuckling a little. “A tiny little baby with curly hair and your eyes.”
I felt my heartbeat quicken. I could see it too, so clearly. Not just a dream, but a premonition of our future. Of course we would have babies together. We were meant to be together all of our lives, a family.
“Where were we?” I asked, trying to imagine the picture more fully.
“Right here in this bed. We were lying just like this. You were reading, and the baby was lying here.” He touched his chest lightly, just next to where my head was resting. “It was sleeping. And I was just looking back and forth between you and the baby, and I was so happy. When I woke up, I still felt that happy.”
“Was it a boy, or a girl?”
“I’m not sure. It didn’t really matter.”
I looked up at him, and his smile was bigger now, and so happy. I kissed him, hard, until I had no breath left, then I lay my head back on his shoulder. “So, what were we calling this ungendered dream baby?” I asked lightly.
He laughed. “We weren’t calling it anything. We were just laying here, the three of us, together.” He was silent for a long time. “You know what, I think it was a boy.”
“Really. Why’s that?”
“Well, when I try to picture the baby, the name Daniel comes to my mind.”
“Daniel, huh?”
“Yeah, he looked like a Dan,” Josh said firmly. “Danny.”
I closed my eyes. I could see it too. Josh, and me, and our baby. A tiny baby with Josh’s hair and my eyes. “Danny,” I whispered.
Chapter Fourteen
Twenty Weeks: This stage is one of the most exciting of your entire pregnancy! You will more than likely visit your doctor in the next few weeks. At this visit, he will probably want to do an ultrasound! Just think: in a few days time you will be looking at the first picture of your baby! You will be able to hear the heartbeat and may even find out the gender if you wish!—Dr. Rebecca Carr, A Gal’s Guide to a Fabulous First Pregnancy!
“Ginny, what is this?” Annie asked as soon as I stepped foot in the door. She was holding a piece of paper in her hand.
“I don’t know, Annie,” I replied. “Perhaps I’ll be able to tell once I actually get inside the house.” She stepped back, allowing me to take off my coat and shoes.
I was in a pretty good mood. I was only about two weeks in, but work had been going really well so far. Luke was still causing me to blush with practically every glance. We had flirted a little bit as he trained me at the store, but for the most part he was still firmly eye candy. Very, very gorgeous eye candy.
After hanging up my coat I held out my hand to see what Annie had been holding. “Oh. This is the confirmation for my ultrasound,” I said, squinting at the piece of paper on which I had scribbled the appointment information that morning while talking to the receptionist at Dr. Beldkin’s office.
“I thought that’s what it was,” she said irritably. “And it says the ultrasound is tomorrow?”
“Yup. That’s what it says.” I didn’t understand why she was looking at me so exasperatedly.
“And you weren’t planning on telling anyone about this?” she demanded.
“I guess it slipped my mind. What’s the problem?”
“The problem? Ginny, you haven’t asked anyone to go with you!”
“So? I’ve been to the doctor a bunch of times alone. Why does it matter?” I asked.
“This isn’t just a doctor’s visit. This is your ultrasound. It’s a really big deal! You’re going to see your baby! One of us should be with you!”
I rolled my eyes and pushed past her into the kitchen. “Annie,” I said patiently, taking down a glass and filling it with water. “It really doesn’t matter that much to me. Okay? There is no reason one of you should take off work. I’ll be fine on my own.”
“No,” she said firmly. “Nope. Sorry. You don’t go to an ultrasound alone. You just don’t. I’m coming with you, end of story.”
“Oh, come on—”
“Virginia. End of story means end of story. I brought home Chinese food. So shut up and let’s go eat.”
I did as I was told. I was never one to argue when free Chinese food was involved.
* * *
The next morning, I felt a little sick. I guess I was nervous about the whole ultrasound thing. As Annie drove me to the doctor’s office, I decided that I was relieved that I had agreed to let her come with me. Doing this alone would have sucked.
“So, have you decided yet?” she asked.
“Decided what?”
“If you’re going to find out!” she said, excited. “About the sex of the baby,” she clarified, somewhat exasperated, as I continued to look blank.
“Oh,” I said, as I realized what she was talking about. “Hmm…I hadn’t really thought about it…”
“You’re hopeless,” she sighed. “How could you not have thought about it?”
“I don’t know. It hasn’t really seemed important.”
“It’s totally important!” Annie was shocked. “Don’t you want to decide on a name? And pick colors for the bedding and stuff?”
“Umm...”
I didn’t know how to explain it to her. It would sound horrible to tell her that those kinds o
f details, those fun, mommy-to-be details, were the farthest thing from my mind. Those were the things you discussed while you lay awake at night—with the baby’s father. Thinking of stuff like that was what you did when you were excited about a baby.
“Ginny, listen to me, okay?” she said quietly, glancing over and meeting my eyes quickly before she turned her attention back to the road. “I get that this isn’t the ideal situation. I understand that you didn’t plan for it to happen this way.”
I should have known she would guess what I was thinking.
“But we’re here now,” she continued. “You’re having this baby; it’s going to be a real person, a part of our lives. It’s okay to be excited. It’s okay to start thinking of the baby—not the pregnancy, not the shitty situation surrounding it, but the baby itself. ’Cause it’s real now, Ginny.”
I was silent. She was right, as usual, but it was so much to take in. Saying it was one thing. Believing it, feeling it, was another matter entirely.
“Just think about it, okay?” She finished her little speech and let the silence, and my thoughts, swirl and settle around me.
* * *
Half an hour later I was laying on the exam table, my belly exposed, while a brisk, no-nonsense technician smeared some cold gel around on my skin.
“This is bizarre,” Annie muttered. “Your stomach is huge. You’re supposed to be the skinny one. How are we even here? It’s so surreal.”
“How the hell do you think I feel?” I hissed, glaring at her. “Bitch,” I added, for good measure, since she wasn’t the one laying half naked in front of some stranger. The technician, a middle-aged woman who had introduced herself as something like Barbara or Beatrice, glanced at me in a disapproving sort of way. Annie grinned, and winked at me.
“Well,” said Barbara/Beatrice. “I’m ready to get started here. This won’t hurt or be uncomfortable at all; the worst part is that cold gel.”
Three Girls and a Baby Page 6
