The Pregnancy Test (The Marin Test Series Book 3)

by Amanda Aksel

  I frowned. “Oh, no. I was really looking forward to seeing her.” Poor Holly.

  “But, Keiko should be here anytime.” Rachel smoothed the back of her white floral skirt before she sat on the couch and I slipped off my sandals and tucked my legs under me, cozying into Rachel’s deep armchair. We sipped from our glasses; okay, I sipped lemonade and Rachel guzzled her wine. She kept the conversation light, asking mostly about what I’d been up to, and I followed her lead by sharing my energy healing experience and that work was crazy as ever.

  She gushed about her first grade students, while I took full advantage of the food that she’d set out. The doorbell chimed. Rachel hopped to her feet and headed to the door. A few moments later, I heard Keiko’s angelically cheery voice. “Sorry I'm late,” she said. “This is tiramisu. I love tiramisu. Have you had before?” I giggled to myself, remembering how Keiko had said that she loved Rachel’s yummy treats.

  “Of course. Did you make it?” Rachel asked and their steps drew nearer.

  Keiko’s smile was so bright it lit up the hallway. She nodded to Rachel. “Yes.”

  “Hi, Keiko!” I said, waving and rising to my feet.

  Somehow she’d managed to smile even bigger. “Oh, Marin. So nice to see you. How are you doing?”

  “Good. Busy. How about you?” I asked.

  “I'm good!” She glanced around the room, seeming to take in the scented candles as I did. “Oh, my gosh. Your house is so beautiful. Thank you so much for inviting me.”

  Rachel smiled and I knew she was pleased with the setup. “Would you like a glass of wine?”

  “Maybe just a little,” Keiko said, indicating a small amount with her fingers. I took my seat again. The armchair was still warm. Keiko sat in the middle of the sofa and continued to gawk at the room. Then she looked at me, crinkling her nose with a smile. “Marin, are you pregnant?” she leaned in and whispered.

  I shook my head. “Not yet.”

  She nodded, her smile disappearing. “Me too. Not yet. But we have to keep trying, right?”

  “Yeah, my mom says the most important thing is to feel good. Stay positive.”

  Keiko snapped her fingers. “Hai! That's right.” She scrutinized me with her eyes a little more. “Are you part Japanese or something?”

  I laughed. “No, but my mom is Chinese.”

  “Oh, I can tell a little bit. You are so beautiful! Your husband must be so happy.”

  “Here you go!” Rachel sang, handing her a glass half filled with wine.

  Keiko took a sip, seeming delighted by the taste. “Mmm, this is good. Really good.” Rachel and Keiko chatted about school and within twenty minutes I knew that they loved their students and that they couldn’t stand the school board. Keiko hadn't even finished her half glass of wine when she appeared to be getting sunburned even though we were inside and it was dark out.

  “Are you okay?” I asked. “You look really red.”

  “Oh yeah, feeling goooood!” She patted her cheeks. “Drinking makes me a little bit red, but it's okay.” She shrugged and took another sip.

  I leaned over the armrest facing Keiko. “So, can I ask about your time with Dr. Pia?”

  She nodded and popped a piece of cheese in her mouth. “Oh, sure. Yeah, my husband and I have been trying for almost six years. And then, when we got to the United States I wanted to go see the doctor. We did the insemination a few times but it didn’t work. But now I find out that I have a blocked fallopian tube on one side.” She struggled to pronounce fallopian.

  “Really?” I said, wondering if somehow I’d had a blocked fallopian tube. How did that even happen?

  “Yep,” she said. “So I did the surgery maybe six weeks ago and now we are going to do In Vitro Fertilization. It’s so expensive,” she said with a grimace.

  “I know, it's crazy,” I said, thinking about what it would do to our savings.

  Keiko raised her brows. “My friend in Japan did it and she was like crazy woman, Ahhh!” She mimed a monster. “So I'm a little bit nervous to do it. But if I want to have a baby, I have to try.”

  Even though Rachel was a far cry from fertility issues, she seemed to be engrossed in Keiko’s story. Maybe even wondering about her own fallopian pathways.

  “Oh!” I said and jumped to my feet. “I have something for you.” I rushed over to my tote purse sitting near the door and pulled out a new copy of You CAN Get Pregnant. My bare feet pounded against the hardwood floor as I rushed back.

  “Here,” I said, handing it over.

  “This is for me?” she asked, reading the title.

  I sat on the sofa, scooting in close to her. “Yeah, my friend gave this to me based on a recommendation from a woman who has endometriosis and she got pregnant with the help of this book. It’s mostly Eastern medicine, with a little bit of Western medicine thrown in. I’ve been following this to a tee. Figured, it’s worth a shot. I tried to find the Japanese version for you, but no such luck.”

  Keiko flipped through the pages and glanced up at me, tears sitting on her bottom lids. “Thank you,” she said. “I’m going to read this tonight.” She hugged the book to her chest and thanked me again. And I wondered if a year later we’d be sitting with our newborn babies talking about how that book was the best gift we’d ever received. Besides our children, of course.

  I tiptoed into my house later that night, cringing when I stepped on the one stair that creaked. The light was on in the bedroom, but James wasn't in bed or in the bathroom. Marvin, on the other hand, was sprawled out on the floor and barely looked up at me.

  “James?” I called.

  “In here!” I heard from down the hall. I found him on the floor of the future nursery, surrounded by pieces of wood railing, nuts, bolts, and tiny ripped plastic bags. His eyes were glued to the paper directions as he tightened a screw with his hands.

  “What's going on in here?” I asked, leaning against the doorframe.

  He looked up and smiled before returning to his frustrated glare at the directions. “I was hoping I could get this thing put together before you got home, but it's trickier than I thought.”

  “How long have you been working on it?” I asked, and sat down next to him on the cool floor.

  “About an hour,” he said, his tongue peeking between his lips as he lined up two of the rails. It looked like he'd barely gotten started. James was a pretty handy guy. I'd never seen him stumped by a project before.

  “Do you want some help?” I asked.

  “Sure, can you hold this up?” He stood up and set two sides up together. I held them as tightly as I could while he screwed the bolts on either side.

  “How was Rachel's thing?”

  I could feel the two parts of the crib fasten together securely. “It was good. Just us and Keiko, the woman I met at Dr. Pia's.”

  “Good.” He consulted the instructions again. “Can you hold this side too?”

  I proceeded to the other side, blabbering on about how sweet Keiko was, how I shared the book with her, and how I was a little worried about Rachel. He nodded, offering an “Mmhmm” every now and then as he bolted everything in place. About forty minutes later we had a real live crib set up in our real live soon-to-be-nursery. Now, I’d have to paint the walls.

  I stepped back. “What do you think?” I wanted him to love it as much as I did, or at least enough that he’d think the two-hour assembly process was worth it.

  He nodded, wiping beads of sweat from his brow. “It's really nice.”

  I found my vision board in the corner of the room and placed it inside the crib. “There. Now we just have to wait for the universe to send us a baby.”

  James wrapped his arms around my waist, his fingers massaging right above my hipbones. He kissed my neck softly, licking all the way up to my earlobe. “Or we could try to make our baby right now.”

  I wasn’t quite ovulating yet, but I wanted him. I turned around and kissed him hard, ripping off his gray T-shirt and pushing down his pants. He pul
led my dress over my head and I unleashed my bra. My feet lifted from the ground as he picked me up, then lowered me to the floor.

  I let him kiss along my collarbone while I softly scratched his back. He kissed my mouth again and we moaned together. I pushed him up, climbing on top of him as he leaned back against a cardboard box filled with my old textbooks from grad school. I rode my hips along his and he pulled me tighter into him. In the moment before it was over, I locked my eyes on the crib only a few feet from us and prayed that this would be the memory of when we conceived our child.

  The next afternoon, I stopped by the paint store for a soft, neutral shade of aqua. I had painted most of one wall in the nursery when my phone vibrated in my pocket. It was Rachel. I swiped the screen. “Hey, what's going on?”

  “Remember how you said I could stay at your place if things got bad?” Her voice was hesitant.

  “Yeah . . .” I wasn’t sure what bad meant for her, but things had obviously gotten to that point.

  “Assface came home early. And I can't take it anymore. I can't even stand seeing him. I know it's a lot to ask, but can I please come live with you. Just for a little while until Holly and Noom leave, then I can stay at their place while they're in Thailand.”

  “Of course. When did you want to come over?” I asked.

  “As soon as possible,” she said.

  I told her at the very least she should come and stay the night and she told me she would pack her things and be over later.

  My pulse, and stress level, was a little higher after I hung up with her. I worried about what had transpired between Rachel and David to drive her to call me and I didn’t know how James would feel about the arrangement. I set the paintbrush down and found James standing naked in the bathroom, waiting for his shower to warm up. His chest muscles were still swollen after his workout. I bit my lip, almost forgetting why I went to find him in the first place.

  “Well, hello,” I said, giving him a sultry stare.

  He stood proudly exposing his manhood. “Hey there.”

  “You want some company?” I asked, slipping my top over my head and unbuttoning my jeans.

  “Sure,” he said.

  I slowly slid my denim down and spun around, unlatching my bra and letting the strap fall down my shoulder. I turned my head back, sending him a wink. He smirked as he watched me give my booty a little shake before taking me into his arms and in the shower. Rachel was going to be around for a few weeks, who knew the next time we'd be able to get it on and be home alone.

  James held me against the wall and I wrapped my legs around his waist. He kissed my neck as I watched tiny water droplets glide down his rounded shoulders. I let myself moan louder and louder, calling out his name while I dug my fingertips into his muscular back. It may have been a quickie, but it was a hot quickie.

  We toweled off over the bathroom rug, giving each other satisfied smirks. There wasn’t a chance he’d say no to anything I’d ask right now.

  “So I need to talk to you about Rachel,” I said.

  “What is it?” He looked concerned.

  I squeezed the water out of my hair, pretending that the whole Rachel moving in thing wasn't that big of a deal. “She can't take living with David anymore. I told her she could stay here tonight, but she wants to know if she can stay here until Holly and Noom leave next month. What do you think?”

  He glanced at the ceiling in thought then seemed to come to a quick decision. “Oh, I see. That's why you did the thing that I like in the shower. You were buttering me up.” He gave me a coy smile.

  I couldn't help but blush. “That's not why.”

  “Uh-huh, sure.” He wrapped the fluffy blue towel around his waist and my eyes fell down to his chest. I wanted him again, but if we kept it up, he’d have no more sperm left for when I actually started ovulating.

  “So? What about Rachel? You know what a dick David's been. Can you imagine being her and being around him every day?”

  “Marin, you don't have to persuade me. Of course she can stay here. We have this big house. We need some more people in it.”

  I smiled, rising on my tiptoes and planting a kiss on his mouth. “You’re the best husband ever. You know that?”

  He blushed a little and swung his arms in front of him as if saying aww shucks! “I try.”

  Three hours later, Rachel dragged a large purple suitcase up the stairs with enough clothes to last the month. I’d assumed that meant she was officially moving in. That night we ordered pizza and drank red wine, though I opted for decaf iced tea. I snuggled between the two of them on the couch watching a new comedy on Netflix. It was kind of nice having her there. After the movie, James headed upstairs to catch what was left of the game on cable and let us have our girl time.

  “No pillow fights, okay, girls?” he joked and gave me a kiss goodnight. “Night, Rachel.”

  “Night, James. Thanks for letting me crash here for a while.”

  He kissed her cheek. “No problem. That’s what family’s for.”

  His sweet words melted my heart and turned me on all at the same time. I knew I’d never have to stay with one of my friends because James and I were going through a nasty divorce. He was my man forever and ever.

  “Oh, my God, I feel so much better,” Rachel said, taking a sip of wine. “I’d either be uncomfortable at home or somewhere else dreading being uncomfortable at home. Your home is supposed to be your sanctuary. It sucks when that's taken from you.”

  I patted her leg as we sat foot to foot on the couch. “I'm glad we could help.”

  “You have no idea, Marin. I’m indebted to you.”

  I laughed, setting my glass down on the coffee table. “Okay.”

  “David's been drinking. A lot.” Her words sounded ominous and I quickly rose from the couch.

  “Did he hurt you?” I asked, balling my fist.

  “No, no, sit down. He's not an abusive drunk, but he's a mean son-of-a-bitch. I wish he would get help, you know. If he remarries or something, I don't want the next woman to suffer his alcoholism. He wasn't always like that. He used to be sweet. He’d spoil me, made me feel like I was really special.” She finished off her glass of wine and quiet tears spilled down her cheeks. “He used to be my best friend.”

  I sat down cross-legged, facing her. “You miss him, huh?”

  “No, I hate him!” She wiped a tear from her right eye.

  “You miss the old him, I mean. It's okay. He was a big part of your life. You need to grieve the loss.”

  She poured the rest of the bottle into her glass. “You're right. David as I knew him is dead.” Her eyes wandered to the stairs. “How's James?”

  I pouted my lip. “I think he misses the old David too. Maybe James can talk to him, try to get him some help. I mean, if he got clean and stopped drinking do you think it would help . . . your marriage?”

  She breathed a long sigh. “No, the damage’s already done. It would be nice for him to recognize what a mess he made of our marriage though.”

  “Maybe that's why he drinks,” I said, knowing that alcohol was a great mask for guilt and sorrow.

  “It's pathetic,” she said, practically spitting out the words like he disgusted her.

  “Well, you’re here now. You don’t have to live with him anymore. When will the divorce be final?” I asked.

  Rachel gazed at her glass. “Should be September.”

  My mouth turned up in a half smile. “That’s only a few months away. Are you gonna start seeing that guidance counselor soon?” I bounced my brows, hoping that she still had the hots for the guy she told me about on my birthday. It was true; the best way to get over someone was to get under someone else.

  She tried to contain a big grin but failed miserably. “Yeah, Kyle.” I knew she wanted to say his name just so she could hear it aloud.

  “Go ahead,” I said. “I know you're dying to talk about him.”

  She sat up, lowering her voice to a near-whisper. “Okay, so he's tall with a
good build. Really cute, short curly brown hair, he has hazel eyes, kinda like yours. He has the sweetest, most adorable smile. Marin, I get butterflies every time I see him in the front office.” Her gaze drifted off and I could tell she was daydreaming about her life with Kyle. “I just want to hang out with him all the time.”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean.” My gaze moved to the stairs and I imagined how cute James would be lying in bed with the remote resting on his chin, watching the Giants play the Cardinals. “You know, if you like him that much, why don’t you go out with him?”

  Rachel bit her bottom lip. “You know, I didn’t want to before, but now that I’m out of the house, why not? We can just keep it light until the divorce is final.”

  I gave her a wry look. “Rachel, you and I both know you have no interest in keeping it light.”

  “Yeah.” She sighed. “He could be the One.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  40 Under 40

  The next morning, my butt had hardly been in my office chair for thirty seconds when Katie walked in. “Did you get my email?”

  I glanced at my black computer screen. I hadn't even booted it up. “No.”

  A grin as long as the Golden Gate Bridge spread across her face. “You've been selected for this year’s Top 40 Under 40 list for Bay Local Magazine!”

  I squinted my eyes and cocked my head. “Really?” I didn’t know how one got selected for this Top 40 Under 40, but I certainly didn’t put my name in the hat. Who did? And more importantly, why did they pick me?

  Katie clapped her hands. “Yes! Aren't you excited?”

  I shrugged. “I guess. This is the first I’ve heard about it.” When I was an ambitious new counselor in my late twenties with a mission to change the world, I would lobby to be on the Top 30 Under 30 list that came out in the spring. I never made it. And by the time I was thirty and no longer eligible, I decided that I didn’t need a list to validate my work, just satisfied patients.