Unpredictable

by K. A. Berg

  Fantastic. “Did they say how long it will take to get back up and running? Are we supposed to wait or reschedule?”

  She shakes her head and holds up what looks like a mini empty soda bottle. “I wasn’t really paying attention. I’m here for a three-hour glucose test, so I’m stuck for another two hours either way.”

  That doesn’t sound like fun. “Three hours, huh? You’d think they would at least provide a more comfortable waiting room and better décor for that amount of time.”

  Her soft laugh and short blonde hair remind me of Tinkerbell. “Ahh, I’m used to waiting. It took three rounds of IVF to get me here. I’ve spent the last five years of my life sitting and waiting in doctors’ offices.”

  “Five years?” I gasp before I can think better of it. “I’m sorry, that was rude of me,” I say quickly, not wanting to offend her. But holy shit, five years!

  She’s not the least bit upset. “Don’t worry about it. Five years is a really long time, but I just wouldn’t give up.”

  “Congratulations,” I tell her before glancing around the room to see if there’s someone I can ask about rescheduling my appointment.

  “Thanks, my husband and I almost gave up after the miscarriages, but I’m glad we didn’t.”

  IVF… Miscarriages… This woman may remind me of a fairy, but she seems like one hell of a fighter. She’s talking to a complete stranger about her fertility struggles while I can barely talk to my friends without feeling like a failure.

  Miscarriages and three rounds of IVF? Failure after failure and she kept coming back for more pain? I can’t wrap my head around that. How the hell did she do it? I don’t want to know, and yet, I do.

  I smile at her instead. “I’m glad it all worked out for you.”

  “Me too,” she continues. “It was a year and a half before we even knew what the problem was, then preparing for the first round only for it to fail. Then the second round. It was successful. Twins, but we lost the first baby at ten weeks then the second at sixteen. The third time was a charm.”

  Chills run through my body as she speaks. For the last month, I’ve been thinking and thinking about all the possible outcomes of this for Alex and me. I’m not naïve, I know I’m a candidate for fertility issues because I’m over thirty-five, but I never considered just how long of a journey this could be. It feels as though I’ve already run a marathon, but now it’s clear, I’ve barely crossed the starting line.

  Five years in and out of doctors’ appointments.

  Unsuccessful attempts…

  Miscarriages…

  More failure…

  The thoughts make a whirlpool in my head, and I have the sudden urge to vomit. Can I handle all that? I’m starting to feel like I’m losing it after almost eight months. Am I strong enough to deal with all the scary realities out there?

  My instinct is to say yes… But what if I’m not? What if this isn’t supposed to happen for me? How many times can I fail and still look Alex in the eye?

  Air. I need some air. “Well, good luck,” I say as I rise from the stiff blue chair. “I have a meeting in an hour, so I guess I’ll just call to reschedule.”

  I don’t give her time to say anything more as I head for the door and dash to my car. It feels like I left there with a boulder lodged in my throat as I sit in my car and wonder what now.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  QUINN

  THE RAIN PELTS DOWN ON ME AS I RUSH INSIDE THE restaurant. I shake some of the water off the light windbreaker I thankfully had in my back seat. If I had known the skies were expected to open, I would have brought my umbrella.

  Following the hostess to the table, I find everyone already here. “Hey,” I say as I try to take off my jacket without soaking everyone around me.

  “It’s really coming out there now, huh?” Hailey asks.

  I nod, still trying to shed the lingering raindrops clinging to me. “I swear the sky was clear and blue when I left the house. In the twenty minutes it took me to get here, the clouds rolled in with a vengeance.”

  “We needed it though,” Ashley chimes in. “It’s been so damn humid, and it hasn’t rained for weeks.”

  “Ugh, tell me about it,” Candace says. “Try having curly hair when it’s this bad. I’ve been reduced to buns and braids to keep this mane in check.”

  I glance around the table as I hang my jacket on the back of the chair. “This is what we’ve been reduced to? Our girls’ lunch and we’re talking about the weather?” I look to Tiff and Candace. “Can we talk about something more exciting… like who came into the ER with what stuck where?”

  An older woman seated at the table next to ours tosses me a dirty look as I take my seat and pick up my menu. I shrug and ignore her. Don’t eavesdrop on our conversation if you don’t like what I have to say.

  Our waiter arrives, cutting off the woman’s glaring look, and asks for our drink order.

  I could really go for a nice IPA, and this place has several on tap, but I ovulated earlier in the week, and I don’t want to risk it. Even though I don’t know why I’m bothering. Chances are it will be another month of nothing.

  “Earth to Quinn…” Tiffany snaps in front of my face.

  I blink then my mind returns to the table and the man patiently waiting for me to tell him what I’d like to drink.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I’ll have an unsweetened iced tea and a mineral water, please.”

  Excitement radiates from all the faces around the table. Tiffany’s lips scrawl into a smile that’s too big for her face as she lets out a hushed whoop and dances in her seat. Ashley’s eyes get misty as she grins at me with a look she gives her kids when they do something she’s excited about. It’s the mom “I’m proud of you” look. I’ve seen them all use it before. My stomach knots realizing what they’re all thinking.

  “Calm yourselves,” I say before any of them have the chance to ask about it. I do not want to talk about babies and pregnancy today. “It’s only lunch, ladies. I’ve still got a shit ton of work to finish when I get back home. I promised Jordan I’d have tomorrow’s presentation finished by the end of the day so he can have time to prepare.”

  Good excuse, if I do say so myself. No one questions it.

  After an hour of good food and good friends, I feel relaxed. It’s been awhile since I’ve been distracted enough to allow the tension of trying to conceive take a back seat and just breathe. Lately, it feels as though I have a twelve-pound weight strapped to my ankle and I drag it around everywhere I go.

  “Ashley, you okay?” Hailey asks. “You look a little green.”

  All eyes dart to Ash’s face, and she does, in fact, look a little sweaty and nauseous. “I don’t know. All of a sudden, I feel a little queasy. Whatever that waiter had on his tray made my stomach toss.”

  “You really don’t look well,” Tiffany says, her nurse instincts kicking in. “Are you going to be okay to drive home? One of us can drive your car, and the other follow back.”

  Ashley doesn’t hesitate to take the offer. “That’s so nice of you. Yes, please. The last thing I want to have to do is pull over while driving so I can throw up on the side of the road. Or worse in my car.”

  “Are you pregnant again?” Candace chuckles.

  My eyes widen as the words leave her mouth. The sounds of the bustling restaurant fade out. The dull din of chatter… gone. Then the clanging of the dishes… gone. The TVs at the bar are now quiet. All that’s left is the buzzing in my ears.

  Is she pregnant?

  I love Ashley, but I have no idea how I would feel if she were to tell me she was pregnant. Of course, it would be great news, but the thought of her being pregnant while I’m over here with an empty uterus makes me want to hurl up my lunch, scream at the top of my lungs and cry at the injustice of it all.

  She already has three beautiful children, and I know for a fact she and Tanner don’t want any more kids. They’ve said multiple times over the last year.

  “No babies for us.”


  “We’re already out-numbered, we’re good.”

  “Our family is complete.”

  But here she is… most likely knocked up… again.

  When’s it our turn? When do we get to say our family is complete? Eight fucking months I’ve hoped and hoped to miss my damn period. I went almost twenty years praying for that bitch to show up on time and now that I want it as far away from me as possible, it comes every month like clockwork.

  Ashley shakes her head. “I’m not pregnant. Michaela came home from camp the other day with a stomach bug. Oh god, I hope she didn’t give it to me. I have no time in my life for dealing with that mess.”

  Tiffany shrugs and snickers. “You never know. You guys hump like rabbits, so we all know it’s possible.”

  The walls are closing in on me. I’m suffocating and need to get out of here before I do something crazy because I swear to God if the next words to leave Ashley’s mouth even hint that she may be pregnant, I will flip this table Real Housewives of New Jersey style.

  Ashley rolls her eyes, still looking pretty nauseous. It looks as though she trying as hard as I am to keep her lunch down. “Except for the fact Tanner got snipped, remember? Trust me, I am not pregnant.”

  I release a quiet sigh of relief. In my panic, I’d forgotten all about Tanner getting a vasectomy.

  “Quinn, are you okay?” Tiff asks, placing a hand on my shoulder as I sit ramrod straight in my chair. “You look a little sick now too.”

  I brush her off and stand from the chair. “No, I’m okay. I was just thinking about work. Speaking of which, I really need to get back so I can get to that presentation. I’m going to go take care of the check.”

  Not giving them any time to question anything, I stand and leave the table, heading toward our waiter who is standing by the bar. I hand him my card and sign when he returns with the slip. Rather than returning to the group, I opt for the ladies’ room, needing a moment to regroup.

  After splashing some water on my face, I stare into my reflection. I feel like a shitty person for being grateful Ashley isn’t pregnant. What kind of person—friend—thinks that? She went through real pain and heartbreak to get her family. Ashley deserves all the children in the world.

  This jealousy is new whenever I see someone enjoying what I want but don’t have. I’ve never been jealous of anyone ever before. Well, not that I can truly remember, anyway. I hate this. I hate all the shit festering inside me waiting to explode. I hate that for even a moment I was pissed off at the possibility of my best friend in the entire world having another baby.

  I glare at myself hard in the mirror not really liking the person staring back at me. Who the hell am I becoming?

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  QUINN

  NOTHING MAKES A SHITTY DAY BETTER LIKE SWEETS. WAFFLE cones, sprinkles, and hot fudge know just how to soothe the aching in my soul thanks to the arrival of my period earlier this afternoon. I started cramping yesterday. I knew it was coming, but that doesn’t change the heartbreaking feeling accompanying its arrival.

  My disappointment might as well have been flashing neon lights on a billboard because Alex knew the moment I stepped through the front door two hours ago. I didn’t have to say a word, yet he seemed to know. I’m not sure whether it was the sadness that seemed to envelop me or the sudden urge to cry the moment my eyes landed on him, but he knew.

  His tall, lean frame crossed our living room in only a few steps, and I was swept up into his strong arms. His voice was strong and confident as he reassured me. “No tears, angel. This month isn’t our month, and it’s okay. We’re going to go out, have a nice dinner, enjoy some ice cream from Frosty’s, and enjoy the time we have together while we still have it because it will happen for us. I promise you that.”

  I wanted to ask him how he could promise something like that when he has zero control over it. How he was still finding a sliver of hope to hold on to when I couldn’t see any in sight.

  “Christ, Quinn,” Alex groans from beside me as we sit on the bench outside our favorite hole-in-the-wall ice cream place. “Do you have to do that? It’s almost indecent, angel.”

  My shoulders shrug as I make more of an exaggerated show of licking the side of my ice cream.

  Alex’s eyes narrow and he gives me a hard, but lustful, stare. “Keep it up, and you’ll be getting a mouth full of a different kind of cream when we get home.”

  His threat or promise as I’m choosing to look at it is almost enough to rid my mind of everything plaguing it lately.

  This last month has been a little rougher for me. I’m not sure when it happened exactly or why, but everything about trying to have a baby seems to be shifting from being exciting to nothing but struggling to keep my head up above water. It feels like I’m trapped out at sea. I can see land, but I have no idea how to get there. There’s no map, no oars, no propellers. Feeling like I’m going to eventually drown out here is almost unbearable. I keep holding out hope for someone to throw me a life vest, but there’s nothing.

  Who knows, though? Maybe that’s just my PMS doing the thinking for me.

  Alex has been wonderful, always knowing exactly what I need. He’s directed every conversation away from the mere mention of babies or families. We’ve discussed the training programs he’s been developing for Legacy, plans for the new house, and where we’d like to go on vacation after the season ends. He has made sure to keep babies far away from me.

  We sit in a few comfortable moments of silence, finishing our ice cream, as we watch the sun begin to set in the early September sky, casting an array of oranges and pinks.

  “Are you excited for the official start of the season? This is going to be your last season opener; are you going to miss it?” I ask, turning toward Alex.

  A little girl in pigtails heading toward the ice cream window catches my eye. Her hair bounces as she jumps up and down in front of the window while her dad orders her treat. She’s wearing the cutest little denim romper and biggest smile as she not so patiently waits for her dessert.

  “It’s going to be hard to say goodbye, but I’m more excited for everything I’ve got planned for Legacy.”

  I listen to Alex as he answers, but my attention is still drawn to the little girl at the window. The girl behind the window hands the dad their cones and he and his daughter walk down to the end of the building where the napkins and trash cans are.

  The dad hands the girl her ice cream, and her face lights with joy as she says, “Thank you, Daddy.”

  She takes a lick of her chocolate and vanilla swirl and watches in horror as the whole thing tips over the side and falls to the ground.

  Her eyes water as she starts to cry.

  “Quinn?” Alex questions as my eyes begin to water right along with hers. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

  The tears continue to leak down from my eyes as I nod to the little girl crying over her now melting puddle of dessert. “I feel her pain,” I sniffle, trying to hold it all in. “I bet she waited all night for that reward. Probably listened to everything her parents told her… finished her broccoli like a good girl… and now her prize is splattered all over the cement like a crushed dream that was right in her grasp only for her to lose it. A big heartbreaking tease.”

  Her dad looks down at the mess and back to her. “It’s okay, sweetie. We’ll get you another.”

  If only the solution to my tears were that easy.

  “Oh, angel.” Alex gathers me in his arms. “I hate seeing you cry.”

  The tears flow freely as I watch the girl cry over her pile of ice cream. “I did everything right. I took the vitamins. I tracked the cycles. I changed my diet. We’re buying a house. You’re changing jobs. We’ve checked off the boxes. Where’s our ice cream?”

  He rubs his hands up and down my back, comforting me the best he can as I cry my disappointment out on his shoulder. There’s really nothing he can do. We’re waiting in limbo. Neither of us has the power to fix it with the wave of a
wand. We have no control over it.

  Alex doesn’t say anything. He sits on the bench with me until the tears and sniffles stop.

  “Come on, angel,” he coaxes as he gives my hand a gentle squeeze. “Let’s go home. I’ll open a bottle of wine, and we can work on clearing out some room on the DVR.”

  Even with his best efforts, there’s nothing Alex can do to help shake my sadness. It’s down deep and beginning to grow roots. I don’t like this feeling. I hate that Alex even has to try and distract me, but I stuff it all down.

  With the best effort I can muster, I try to make my lips turn into a genuine smile. “Sure, sounds good.”

  Even I don’t believe me.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  QUINN

  BEFORE ALEX, I WASN’T A SPORTS GIRL. SPORTS NEVER interested me. Now, I enjoy football. I actually understand it. This stadium is kind of a second home for us. It’s our last season here, and I’m going to try to be here for every game. I know even though Alex is ready and very excited for Legacy, this is going to be a tough goodbye for him.

  “I’m kind of going to miss this next year,” I tell Ashley as I walk down to the post-game room with her. I don’t usually come down here, typically opting to head straight home, but I’m feeling nostalgic today.

  Ashley nods and whispers conspiratorially. “I know. Ever since Tanner brought up the ‘r’ word, I’ve been trying to take it all in, you know just in case.”

  Their lives have been football since the moment they met, literally. It’s hard to picture Tanner without football, but I guess everyone has to retire eventually.

  As we head into the lounge-like room, I remember how lively it gets. Groups of people connecting and reconnecting. We head over to the group of women in the corner and smile.