Knocked Up- The Complete Box Set

by Lilian Monroe

  I slip on my shirt and head out to the main room. Zach is bending over, putting some dishes in the dishwasher. I grin as I watch the way his ass pulls against the fabric of his pants. He stands up and looks over his shoulder.

  “What are you laughing at?”

  “You cute man bum,” I reply. He turns around completely and leans on the counter, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow.

  “Man bum?”

  “Yeah!” Both of his eyebrows are now shooting towards his hairline. I laugh. “Don’t worry, yours is really nice. A+ man bum.”

  He grins and pushes himself off the counter, taking me in his arms.

  “You’re a big pervert, you know that Harper?”

  Instead of replying, I slide my hands down his back and cup his ass. I give it a small squeeze and he laughs before tucking his chin down and placing a soft kiss on my lips. My heart cartwheels in my chest and I melt into his arms.

  Suddenly the doctor doesn’t seem so daunting.

  31

  Zach

  Harper’s knee is bouncing up and down as we sit in the waiting room for her name to be called. I’ve never seen her like this. My Harper, usually so poised and collected, is a nervous wreck. She spins her head around and I see a hint of true fear in her eyes. Her soft pink lips part and she takes a deep breath.

  “Will you come into the room with me? You know, for moral support?” She takes another breath and her eyes mist up. “I know it’s pathetic, I’m sorry. You must think I’m ridiculous.”

  I put my hand on her knee and it slows to a stop. “You’re not pathetic or ridiculous, Harper. Everyone needs a bit of help once in a while.”

  She nods. I watch as her eyes dart from the hallway to the doctor’s offices, to the receptionist, to the other patients.

  This is the woman who just led our team to deliver an extremely difficult and complex proposal under an incredible time crunch, and who did it without showing any hesitation. She’s got the respect of her peers and employees, and yet she’s afraid of a routine doctor’s appointment? It doesn’t add up. There must be something she’s not telling me. She must have had a bad experience, maybe when she was a kid.

  After what seems like an eternity, Doctor MacDonald appears in the hallway. I’ve been coming to see him for the past ten years, and I don’t think he’s changed at all. His shock of white hair is still a bird’s nest on his head, and his wiry white eyebrows wiggle on top of his friendly blue eyes. If there was ever a doctor who gave off the Grandpa vibe, it’s Doctor Mac. I can’t think of a better man to take care of Harper, especially when she’s so nervous.

  “Harper? Harper Anderson?” Doctor Mac calls out as he scans the waiting room. Harper jumps up and starts walking before turning towards me. She holds out her hand and I stand up slowly, taking it in mine. Her hand is cold and clammy.

  “I hope you don’t mind if Zach comes in with me?” She asks. “I’m a bit nervous.”

  “Not at all,” Doctor Mac says as he nods to me. “Good to see you again, Zachary.”

  His office is just like any other. There’s an anatomy poster on the stark white walls, and jars of cotton balls and tongue depressors lined up on the counter. I sit down in a chair and Doctor Mac motions for Harper to sit on the blue plastic bed. The paper crunches as she sits down on top of it, and the doctor takes a seat at his computer. It’s cramped with three of us in the small room.

  “Now,” he says in a smooth low voice, crossing his hands on his lap and turning towards her. “What seems to be the issue?”

  Harper explains and the doctor keeps asking questions. Her hands are gripping the edge of the bed so hard her knuckles are turning white. I can see a vein in her neck pulsing as the blood pumps through. Her lips, usually full and pink with a beautiful soft curve, have turned into a thin line across her face.

  All I want to do is sit next to her and put my arm around her. It kills me to see her like this. Finally Doctor Mac grabs a small jar from a drawer and takes it out of its sterile packaging.

  “The bathroom is just down the hall to the left. If you can, fill it up to the line here,” he points to a line three quarters of the way up. “Otherwise just get as much as you can.”

  Harper grabs the vial and nods.

  “Good luck!” Doctor Mac says cheerily. I grin. He does have a gift for unwavering good humour. Harper glances at me before heading out the door. She closes it softly and I turn to Doctor Mac, who’s typing notes on his computer.

  “Do you think it’s serious?”

  “No way to tell,” he replies. He types a few more words and then presses one last button with a flourish before turning towards me. “But she’s walking and talking so I’d say she’s in fairly good shape.”

  I chuckle. “I’ve never seen her so nervous!”

  “Us doctors are a scary bunch!” He replies just as the door opens. Harper holds out the jar with her yellow urine in it. Looks like she was able to fill most of it up, and I silently tell her good job.

  Doctor Mac snaps a blue latex glove onto his hand and grabs the jar. He slips it into a clear plastic bag and stands up.

  “We can run a few tests right now, so if you don’t mind waiting five or ten minutes, I’ll be right back.”

  “Sounds good, thanks Doctor,” Harper says, sitting back down on the examination table. Doctor Mac nods and slips out the door. I stand up and take a few steps until I’m standing in front of her. I put my hands on either side of her arms and give them a squeeze.

  “It’ll be okay. He’s a great doctor.”

  “Yeah he’s nice,” she says with a weak smile. “Sorry, I’ve just had bad experiences at the doctor and now they make me nervous.”

  “I get it. I’m here for you.” She nods, and I continue. “You hear me, Harper? I’m here for you. I’ll take care of you, no matter what.”

  Her eyes lift up to mine and I feel a surge of emotion in my chest. Butterflies crash around my ribcage and stomach as I watch the sparkle in her green eyes.

  “You mean it?” She whispers. “You’ll take care of me?”

  “Always.” I take a deep breath. “I care about you, Harper. More than I’ve cared about anyone in a long, long time.” Ever, maybe. “Plus, I’ve never had anyone tell me I have a cute man bum, and that’s worth hanging onto.”

  She smiles and her eyes mist up. Her arms find my waist and she pulls me in closer. I hold her in my arms until her trembling body calms down. I stroke her head and place a soft kiss on her brown hair. Even when she’s nervous and sick, she still smells like roses.

  With Harper in my arms in the doctor’s office, I know in my heart that I was telling the truth. I’ll do anything for her.

  32

  Harper

  The door opens and Zach pulls away from me. I extract myself from the warmth of his arms and he goes back to his chair. We look at the doctor expectantly as he closes the door, holding a clipboard in his hand.

  Doctor MacDonald turns to us and holds his arms out by his sides, palms facing us. He smiles.

  “Congratulations!”

  I frown, and glance at Zach. He looks from Doctor MacDonald to me and then back to the doctor.

  Doctor MacDonald looks at me, beaming. “You’re expecting!”

  “Expecting what?” My brain can’t process his words. I know what they mean, but I can’t make any sense of it. Expecting?

  “Expecting a child,” he explains as his eyebrows twitch into a slight frown. “You’re pregnant. Congratulations! What a perfect couple for it as well. Beautiful child, I’m sure.” He sits down in front of his computer and starts typing something. “We’ll have to get you in for a checkup in the next couple weeks. Wonderful!”

  The air rushes around my ears and I feel like I’m going to fall over. I turn towards the doctor and the paper under me crinkles and crunches.

  “That’s not possible,” I say. My breath is short and my voice sounds strained, even to my ears. I don’t have the nerve to look at Zach right now. I c
an hardly look at the doctor. I just keep repeating: “That’s not possible.”

  Doctor MacDonald looks at me. I can’t say anything else, so I just repeat myself one more time. “That’s not possible.” My throat is closing and the edges of my vision are going blotchy and dark.

  “It is possible, and it’s true,” Doctor MacDonald says. “About three to four weeks, I’d say.”

  I do mental calculations. Three to four weeks… my jaw drops and I finally turn my head towards Zach. The Christmas party!

  Zach’s face is as white as a sheet. He’s gripping the armrests and staring at Doctor MacDonald. He sees me turn towards him and lifts his eyes towards me. I can’t read them, they’re dark and cloudy. My voice is stuck in my throat and I don’t know what to say. He stays silent.

  “Oh my God,” I breathe as I bring a hand up to my forehead. Should I be happy about this? This is all I wanted for years, but now… Is Zach happy? He doesn’t look happy. He hasn’t said anything.

  Everything from the past few weeks rushes back towards me. The nausea, the cravings, the tiredness, the swollen fingers. I’ve been pregnant this whole time!

  Doctor MacDonald is saying a thousand and one things and thrusting pamphlets into my hands. I take them but all I can hear is the gargled sound of his voice. It sounds like he’s speaking to me under water, I can’t make out anything he says. I try to focus, try to think. I’m sure it’s important, but all I can think of is the last time I went to the doctor.

  One in ten million.

  Infertile.

  Might as well be impossible.

  Consider adoption.

  Finally I look at Doctor MacDonald and interrupt him. “I’m infertile! This isn’t possible.”

  He pauses, and tilts his head to the side. His eyes soften and he nods slowly. “It would appear the last doctor you went to made a mistake. Some people call them miracle babies.”

  “Miracle babies,” I repeat. I glance at Zach, who’s still as pale as a ghost and staring at the ground between his feet. He hasn’t said a word. My heart starts thumping and I feel the panic welling up inside me.

  Finally, the doctor says a few more unintelligible things and ushers us out the door. I walk out in a daze, making my way outside with Zach. He hasn’t spoken and he won’t look at me. I put a hand over my stomach and feel a flutter in my chest.

  Miracle baby.

  Suddenly the shock dissipates and I my heart starts beating with something new. I’m pregnant! I’m pregnant! I’m going to have a child!!

  Zach unlocks his car and I slide into the passenger’s seat. He puts the key in the ignition but doesn’t start the car. I take a deep breath.

  “Zach, listen, I…” I pause. “I was told before that it was impossible for me to have children. If you don’t want to be a part of the kid’s life, I understand. I’m willing to take care of it on my own. This wasn’t something you planned for. Neither of us could have.”

  His head turns slowly around towards me. His eyes are blazing and he opens his mouth. I shy away from him, leaning back towards the car door. This isn’t the caring man who was holding me in his arms just minutes ago.

  “You…” he pauses and licks his lips. His eyes are dark and stormy and unreadable. “You’re going to keep it?”

  My stomach drops and my heart beats in my suddenly hollow chest. My eyes prickle and the anger flares up inside me. Am I going to keep it?! Of course I’m going to flipping keep it!

  “Yes.”

  He stares at me for a few moments before nodding. He turns towards the steering wheel and turns the car on.

  “I should probably take you home, then?”

  His words pierce my chest like a hot dagger. He wants nothing to do with me. He just wants to get rid of me as soon as possible.

  “Yeah,” is the only response I can manage. I stare out the window as he starts driving, trying to choke back tears. Ten minutes ago he was telling me he would take care of me no matter what, and now he’s dumping me off back home like I’m some sort of inconvenience. I get that this is unexpected, but does he have to be so cold?! He won’t even look at me!

  A tear rolls down my cheek and I brush it away quickly. It feels like a hand is squeezing my chest and I can hardly breathe. We drive in silence, staring out the window. The tortuous drive to my house finally ends as he pulls up in front of my apartment building.

  “Thanks,” I say. I turn towards him, wanting him to say something. I want him to say that it’ll be okay, that we’ll figure it out. I don’t need him to marry me or stay with me or even be part of the baby’s life but I do need to feel like he doesn’t hate me all of a sudden.

  “No problem,” he says. He keeps staring straight ahead and doesn’t look at me. The dagger in my chest twists and my vision goes blurry as the tears fill my eyes. I scratch at the door for the handle and stumble out of the car. As soon as I close the door, he’s speeding off down the street.

  I watch the car turn off and I break down. The tears come hot and fast, and my sobs shake through my entire body. I stumble into my building and crawl up the stairs. I’m crying so hard I can’t see anything in front of me. My breath is ragged and I gulp in the air in between sobs. I struggle to unlock my door and finally push my way in, closing it behind me and collapsing onto the floor.

  I cry and cry and cry, hugging my arms to my stomach. I’m alone now. Zach never cared about me at all. It was all just a fling, just a bit of fun to him. He was just telling me what I wanted to hear. The torrent of emotion inside me is like a hurricane.

  When it quiets down all that’s left are two words burned into my mind’s eye: I’m alone. The tears are still streaming down my face but I force myself to stand up.

  “It’s just the two of us now,” I whisper to my belly. “I’ll take care of you.”

  I take a deep breath and head towards the bathroom. Bath, ice cream, and movies. Maybe Rosie will come over and she can help me figure out my life from there.

  33

  Zach

  I walk into my apartment and I realise I don’t remember the drive back to my place at all. I hardly remember leaving the doctor’s office. I drop my keys on the counter and take off my jacket before going to the fridge and grabbing a beer. I crack it open and flop down onto my sofa.

  The cold liquid pours down my throat and I sigh in satisfaction. I drink about half the bottle in one gulp, and then open my eyes. I stare at the beer in my hands, peeling the label off slowly.

  She’s pregnant.

  Three or four weeks, that would put us at the Christmas party.

  Is it even mine?

  As soon as the thought crosses my mind I dismiss it. I know it’s mine. It has to be mine! Who else’s would it be? The timeline makes sense, and we never used any protection. How could I be so stupid?!

  I can’t believe she’s pregnant. As soon as Doctor Mac said the words I couldn’t think or hear or speak. I could hardly focus on the road.

  I lay back in the sofa and put a hand over my eyes. I replay the day in as much detail as I can. Harper’s sickness, her hesitation about going to the doctor, telling me she’d take care of it on her own.

  What if she planned this?? What if she’s exactly like all the other women that I’ve worked so hard to avoid. I’m usually so careful! I’ve had so many women try to get themselves pregnant just to attach themselves to me. What if she’s just another one of them?

  I crack another beer open and feel the anger welling up inside me. She played me. She never told me why she knew she wouldn’t get pregnant, and like a fool I just took her at her word. I assumed she was on the pill, but I never fucking asked! She’s probably been trying to trap me with a kid this whole time!

  She’s just like the rest of them.

  I bring the bottle of beer to my lips and drink another quarter of it. I churns in my stomach and feeds my anger.

  I thought she was different. I was starting to care about her! I thought I was starting to—urgh—love her! The thought of
it makes me swallow the rest of the beer. Love! What am I thinking. She’s just another gold digging woman looking for an easy way out.

  My thoughts come hard and fast, swirling through my head until I’m dizzy. My anger gives way to panic. I’m going to be a father! My panic gives way to uncertainty. She looked just as shocked as I was. My uncertainty turns to anger again. She’s just a fucking good actor, is all.

  I drink beer after beer after beer until I can’t see straight and the pain in my chest dulls to an ache, and then I drink some more.

  I wake up amidst stale, empty beer bottles. I passed out on the sofa. My cheek is glued to the leather couch and I slowly peel myself off to sit up. My head is spinning, and my mouth tastes like death.

  The bottles around me tell a story. I don’t usually drink this much. I don’t usually drink in response to upsetting news. I’m usually able to control my emotions.

  Not this time.

  I groan as I stand up, walking like a zombie towards the bathroom. I turn on the shower and as it heats up I brush my teeth. I undress and stand under the hot water without moving for an eternity. I open my mouth and try to wash the taste of toothpaste and beer out of my mouth.

  Last night, my mind was a torrent of thoughts and emotions and today I’m completely empty. I’m numb. I can’t even string a coherent thought together. I’m on autopilot and I just let my body lead me. I get out of the shower, shave, get dressed. I head downstairs and get in the car. Before I know where I am, I’m back at the office. I was planning on taking a few days off, but the rest of the team will be back from their holidays and I have nowhere else to go. At least when I’m there I can try to forget about yesterday.