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1
Adrian Foley looked in the mirror, vigorously scrubbing her hands until they turned red. A pounding pulse thudded in her ears. She needed to hold it together, at least for the duration of her next meeting, which started in five minutes. She focused on breathing steadily, trying to calm her nerves.
In, out, in, out.
She’d gotten her period. Again. How could her body continuously betray her? Adrian had done her research. She’d read all the blogs and advice she could find. She’d even kept track of her basal temperatures throughout the month and used an in-home ovulation kit as a supposedly foolproof backup plan. She was determined to get it right.
And they’d consummated several times during her monthly peak, to the point where Brad said he felt worn out. She couldn’t fail. Yet, once again, her pesky Aunt Flo came to visit.
Adrian fought back tears as she gripped the counter with damp hands, staring at herself in the mirror. There had been rumors of a merger or acquisition flying around lately, while her employer, GreenTech, had been in talks with a venture capitalist firm and a larger technology company. It seemed like big changes were on the horizon, but she didn’t know their extent. Considering she had been Vice President of Sales for almost three years, she felt relatively safe. But she couldn’t help but question her judgment about that too.
At least she could have a glass of wine later with Brad to celebrate or commiserate. Or both, really.
How would she tell Brad?
In, out, in, out.
She dried her hands and checked her eye makeup. Time to put on a brave face.
Resolved, Adrian ran her fingers through long raven hair to freshen it up. Grabbing her black leather folder from the sink, she headed toward the meeting, strategically avoiding eye contact with everyone in the office. She distracted herself with a mental rundown of her team’s sales figures and other talking points, getting ready for whatever questions were thrown her way.
When Adrian entered the board room, her eyes fell on a large canvas banner hung across the white board, proudly proclaiming, “It’s a Boy!” with two tiny blue booties and a baby rattle framing the words. Blue and white confetti peppered the conference table, and her heart sank. They’d forgotten to clean the room after Michelle’s baby shower.
She had felt pure excitement for Michelle earlier, having brought her one of those cakes made of diapers, with blue and yellow ribbons and ducks and all the cutesy adornments. Michelle and the other ladies in the office had cooed over it, almost in sync.
“I can’t wait to bring one of these to your shower,” Michelle beamed.
“Hopefully soon. Who knows?” Adrian said, patting her stomach gently. Other women gave her hopeful glances, knowing full well how long Adrian had been trying for a baby of her own. She’d even allowed herself to envision what kind of baby shower her colleagues would throw for her. She’d opt for cupcakes instead of the sheet cake Michelle asked for and would have them arranged in the shape of a stork carrying a bundle of joy. She even mused about doing a gender reveal through the cake. Each cupcake would contain either pink or blue frosting in the middle, a confectionery surprise with every bite, which they’d all take together on the count of three.
“Oh my gosh. You’re having a boy and a girl!” Diane would exclaim.
“Twins! Congratulations. No one deserves it more,” Michelle would gush.
What a fantasy.
Adrian pulled the banner down and threw it in the trash and then she swept the confetti off the table, eliminating the macabre evidence. She settled on the left side of the large oak conference table into a white space-age wingback chair reminiscent of one a sci-fi villain might use. She peered out at the Austin skyline, watching the afternoon sun shimmer against the neighboring high-rises.
She grabbed her cell phone to text Brad, unable to carry the burden on her own any longer. Then she paused. Was texting really an appropriate way to tell him? He knew as well as she did how regular her monthly cycle was. They’d spoken about its punctuality ad nauseam for months. At first, she’d stayed positive, convinced her body was detoxing from the pill. But that excuse didn’t work after six months. Every time they weren’t fruitful, they deflated a little more, their hearts becoming flat and unmoving, with nothing left to give.
People started filing into the room. She typed out, “Not this month,” and hit send before placing her phone face down. She turned her attention to Simon, her boss, ready to hear what else fate had in store.
He addressed the group. “Good afternoon.” The afternoon sun reflected off his bald head as he wrote a word on the white board at the front of the room. Adrian’s pulse quickened when she saw the word Byte-Tech scribbled in red marker.
So, the rumors were true?
“I’m sure some of you are aware that we’ve been in negotiations with Byte-Tech for a couple of months now, and we’ve finally been able to reach an agreement. We will be joining forces with them at the beginning of our new fiscal year in October.”
A few of her cohorts shifted in their seats, and Adrian’s phone buzzed. She flipped it over to see a response from Brad: “Sorry, babe.”
Simon carried on discussing the findings from the consultants they’d hired to ensure the merger would be a success, and it sparked something in Adrian. GreenTech had hired consultants to help with the merger with Byte-Tech. Wasn’t it time for her and Brad to do something similar?
While Simon’s back was turned, she quickly responded to Brad. “Should we make an appointment with Holly?”
Holly Dunham was the top fertility expert in the greater Austin area. If anyone could help them bear fruit, it would be her. Adrian had read many Holly-related success stories on various Austin mommy blogs during one of her sleepless nights. Adrian had mentioned the idea to Brad a few months earlier, and he’d convinced her to hold off a little longer to see if things happened naturally. Adrian couldn’t help feeling put off at the time, but they’d keep trying, hoping for the best. But it was time for them to face facts. Neither of them were getting any younger, so a fertility appointment had to be the next logical step for them.
While Simon assured everyone their jobs were secure, Adrian watched her screen as Brad typed and stopped typing several times. Surely, he couldn’t say no. But he wasn’t saying anything at the moment—the three dots showed up and disappeared over and over again as he began to type and stopped. Was it a new form of Morse code?
“Adrian, will you share with us the projected sales numbers for your team for the remainder of the quarter?” Simon asked.
She cleared her throat as a simple “Okay” came across her phone screen.
She flipped the phone over a little too hard, startling her neighbor. “Yes, we’re on track for our best year and quarter-end yet,” she said. She reviewed the details with her colleagues on which sales campaigns had provided the most impact and reviewed high-level details on the top five deals set to close.
“Thank you.” Simon grinned. “I want to commend you on your ability to keep your team focused on closing business while the rumor mill churned about the merger. We’ll be leaning on you while we bring the two sales teams together.” His expression practically confirmed she would be appointed Vice President of Sales over the combined sales teams moving forward, and the nodding heads in suits around the table agreed.
“Thank you, sir,” she said, feeling heat flush her cheeks. In her thirty-something years alive, she’d never been comfortable taking a compliment.
As Simon moved on to question Patrick from Tec
hnical Support, Adrian exhaled a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She’d successfully built her sales team to produce record-breaking numbers month after month, and it had taken her years to get to that point in her career. She’d been proud of her accomplishments and seeing her team’s success and growth.
Now she just needed to figure out what was necessary to grow a baby.
Salted water roared and meat sauce splattered the white quartz countertop like a Pollock painting as Adrian stared out her kitchen window. Where had they gone wrong that month? She’d held her legs in the air after every coitus experience with Brad for at least ten minutes. She’d kept tabs on her cycle with absolute precision, making sure they capitalized on the precise window of optimal fertility regardless of potential excuses. What was wrong with her?
Maybe it was time to consider alternatives. Maybe they needed a little boost. She remembered Samantha in her yoga class mentioning having success with IVF. Adrian had had a really good year at work, so affording the treatment shouldn’t be an issue, regardless of whether or not her insurance would cover a portion.
But why had Brad started to text and stopped so many times? Those repeating three dots taunted her several times before the simple response of “Okay” came through. Was he holding something back? Was he truly onboard with going down the path of fertility treatments?
They’d always envisioned being parents. They’d discussed how many children they would have the night before their wedding. Being a risk-averse person, she remembered going to see him, saying they needed to hash out the main issues couples argue about before they walked down the aisle the next afternoon. The last thing she wanted to do was fail at marriage. They’d stayed up until three in the morning discussing how they would handle finances, when they would buy a house and what criteria were important to them, how many children they would have and to what lengths they would go to in order to produce them naturally. They’d agreed to consider fertility treatments if all else failed and would cap it after a year if nothing happened. But they were sure when the time came, it wouldn’t be an issue.
Yet, there they were, and she felt less than confident about his response.
Maybe she was just imagining things. She knew Brad was under a lot of pressure at work, having recently started a new job in sales for a large wine distributor. She’d been removed from working a territory for a long time and could see the wear on him when he came home. It was an exhausting grind, and she should be more sensitive to that. But something told her there was more to it. She couldn’t explain it, but she felt it. Call it women’s intuition or whatever, but something felt off.
Brad entered the kitchen, immediately turning the heat down to keep the sauce from splattering. “Babe, are you okay?” He placed a warm hand on her shoulder, pulling her into a hug as tears streamed down her cheeks. He rubbed her back as she buried her head in his shoulder, using his shirt to soak up her pain.
“Do you still want to have children?” She looked into his honey brown eyes.
He brushed dark hair back from her face. “Of course.”
He said the right words, but she didn’t believe him. Dot, dot, dot…
“Are you sure?”
He nodded. “But is now really the right time? I just started a new job, and you’ve got the merger happening. Maybe we should wait.”
There it was. She’d known she wasn’t crazy. She pulled away from him. “Babe, we both know there’s never going to be a ‘right time.’ And we’re not getting any younger…”
“Yeah, you’re right.” He looked at the ground and leaned against the kitchen island.
Silence hung heavy between them as Adrian dropped the spaghetti into the boiling water, watching it swirl around her bamboo spoon as she stirred.
“Have we really done everything we can to make it happen naturally?”
She dropped the spoon on the counter. “I knew it. You’ve changed your mind, haven’t you?”
“What do you mean?”
“We’ve already discussed this. Don’t you remember? The night before our wedding? We agreed when it got to a certain point, we would explore other options before it was too late.”
“I just thought we could give it a bit more time—wait a little while longer.”
“For what? What are we waiting for?” She stared at him, unable to understand what was causing him to delay the inevitable.
“You’re right.” He rubbed his forehead. “I’m tired, you’re tired, and I don’t want to argue. If this is what you want—”
“I do.”
“Okay, then we’ll explore those options.”
“Okay.” She finished putting dinner together. His lips expressed the right words, but she couldn’t help feeling he wasn’t saying everything. But what would cause Brad to change his mind?
A tension-filled cloud hung over them with a light drizzle of conversation as they ate dinner side-by-side on barstools at the island. Brad offered to clean up the kitchen while Adrian headed to bed. She wanted to end the day as quickly as possible.
As Adrian tossed and turned that night, she realized Brad’s behavior had been off lately. He’d had a lot of late nights at the office, coming home smelling like alcohol and a hint of perfume when he said he was entertaining clients. Could that have anything to do with his change of heart about their family plans?
He was holding something else back. She had to figure out what it was, even if it killed her.
2
Brad shifted uncomfortably and pretended to read a two-month old copy of Sports Illustrated, flipping the pages at just the right speed to indicate he wasn’t really reading. Adrian sat next to him, arms crossed and leg tapping, unable to focus on anything other than the fake ficus in the corner of the waiting room of Holly Dunham, fertility expert extraordinaire. Fortunately, Holly had a last-minute cancellation and they were able to grab an appointment that afternoon. Adrian hardly had time to think and quickly re-arranged meetings to make it happen. She hadn’t even had a chance to talk to Laura about any of it yet.
Best friends since childhood, Laura and Adrian did everything together. When Laura got her ears pierced, Adrian did too. When Laura found Zach, it wasn’t long until Adrian found Brad, even though Adrian beat Laura down the aisle. And when Laura had to follow Zach to Austin for his job, Adrian somehow convinced Brad to get on board with moving from Florida to Texas, the idea of being so far from Laura too much to bear. And when Laura announced her pregnancy, Adrian knew it wouldn’t be long before they’d share the journey of motherhood too. Yet there she was in a fertility waiting room with vacancy in her own body’s waiting room.
Smooth jazz elevator music played on repeat as they waited, unable to drown out Brad’s page turning. He licked the tip of his finger before turning a page, and Adrian wondered where and when he’d developed such a habit. Aside from the unsanitary aspect, did it really provide more leverage on turning a thin page? Couldn’t he just turn the page without the salivary theatrics?
She took a deep breath to calm her nerves. Pictures of happy couples stared at them out of frames on the walls, with both couples placing proud hands on the woman’s swollen belly. Was that a preview of coming attractions? If Holly could work for those people, perhaps she would be able to wield her magic on them too.
“Adrian, Brad. Please come in,” Holly said, opening the door.
Brad placed a slightly damp hand on the small of Adrian’s back as they made their way to the woman’s office.
Adrian felt a little calmer on the other side of the door. It was hard not to. Holly had decorated her office like a spa. The only color in the room was a pale green accent wall. Sheer, flowing white curtains hugged a window facing a lush, shady backyard. Her desk, a Quaker-style one made of rich mahogany, was in front of the window with a plush, cream-colored chair for Holly. Two matching chairs sat facing the window in front of her desk, and a large black and white photograph of stacked stones reminiscent of something from a big box store hung o
n the wall to the right. A diffuser puffed lavender scented steam into the room. The only thing missing was Enya or Yanni.
They took their seats, and Holly wasted no time diving in. “So, what brings you both here today?”
Adrian wondered why that was even a question. Wasn’t it obvious? “Well, we’ve been unsuccessful in our efforts to conceive, and we’ve agreed it’s now time to explore our options.”
Brad squirmed in his seat, drawing Adrian’s attention to him. She couldn’t help thinking about his shifty behavior lately, coming home smelling like alcohol when he was working late. Maybe she wasn’t giving him enough credit. He was in sales for an alcohol distributor after all. A lot of deals got done on the golf course in the corporate world, so what would be the equivalent in his field? A bar?
“Babe?” Brad said.
“Sorry, what?”
“I asked if you’ve had any new stressors lately that could be interfering?” Holly’s pen hovered above a yellow legal pad.
“No, not that I’m aware of.” Adrian thought about the merger at work and the fact that she couldn’t shake the idea Brad was hiding something. Oh, and her barren uterus. Other than that, things were peachy.
“And do either of you drink?”
“Yeah, we have a glass of wine a couple of nights a week,” Brad said.
“Do you smoke?”
“No,” Adrian answered too quickly. Brad raised an eyebrow. It was Adrian’s turn to shift uncomfortably in her seat, afraid Brad would out her as a closet smoker.
“Regular periods?”
“Yeah, no issues there.”
“And how was your mother’s pregnancy with you?”
Adrian tensed. Her mother’s pregnancy, from what details Adrian had pieced together over the years, hadn’t been an easy one. “I—I don’t recall.” She hoped that would be the end of it.
“They haven’t spoken in over three years,” Brad volunteered.
Unfinished Business Page 1