The Core Four Series

by Stacy Borel

  “Of course.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Do you know how far along you are?”

  I shook my head. “I think I’m nine weeks, but my cycle was kind of off.”

  “Okay, I’m assuming you know who the father is?”

  I tipped my head once.

  “At nine weeks, all sorts of things are happening in your body. Your blood flow has already increased, there’s a heartbeat that can be detected on ultrasound, and the fetus is growing at a rapid pace. Are you taking a prenatal vitamin?”

  “No.”

  “How come?”

  “I just haven’t.” I know that wasn’t an answer, but I was having trouble saying much of anything else.

  “A prenatal vitamin needs to be started as soon as possible. You’re still in your first trimester and a lot is up in the air right now. If you are in fact nine weeks, you will be due for your first doctor’s appointment where labs will need to be drawn, gestation needs to be determined, and an assessment of your overall health.” He reached down beside him and pulled open one of his drawers. Rustling around for a few seconds he pulled out what he was looking for. “I wasn’t accepting any new patients, but I’d be glad to see you, if you are still looking for a doctor.”

  I knew all of what he was saying. I really did. Again, I just needed to hear it. But he was missing something. He wasn’t telling me all of my options. He was telling me the ones that would mean keeping the baby. I wanted to know, the other ones. The ones that would mean I’d be free of this, and I could move on and forget it ever happened.

  Who was I kidding? I’d never forget about this

  “And if I chose to go the other way?”

  He lifted his head and slightly squinted at me. “You mean termination?”

  “Yes.”

  Dr. Carrie exhaled. “It’s still a viable option. You have a small window where you can take pill, before your tenth week. Shortly after, you could expect some cramping followed by period like symptoms including bleeding. If you go past the tenth week, you’d need to come in for a D&C. You’d be given an IV with some mild sedation. A vacuum would be used to take care of the fetus.”

  My body started to quiver. I felt like my face was green, and I wanted nothing more than to run to the bathroom and throw up. “So I have a week to decide if this is what I want to do before it becomes more medically invasive?”

  “Yes. But, Macie, I have to ask, does the father know? What does he want? Other options are still out there, such as adoption.”

  Adoption, abortion, vacuums, pills, bleeding, sedation, babies, crying, bottles, diapers. It was all swirling in my head like a picture book being flipped super-fast over and over. It was too much. I needed more time. Time. Time is what I didn’t have.

  “He knows. He’s left it up to me.” I met his stare straight on. I lied. I didn’t want to have to explain any further.

  Folding his hands in front of him, he shifted forward, appearing more serious than before. “Listen, I can tell this was a bit of a shock to you. I get it. I have a lot of women that come into my office and tell me similar things, wanting to know their options and how I can help them. And it is absolutely your choice. But I want to make sure you are making an educated one. Take a few days, think about it. Discuss it further with the father, or your family. I’m sure you have a lot of support in your corner. Your father- . . .”

  “My father can’t know anything about this!” I nearly shouted.

  He raised his hands. “No, of course. I’m not going to say anything to him. Doctor/patient confidentiality, remember? I was just going to say, your father would probably be thrilled.”

  No, he wouldn’t. I’d likely be frowned upon and disowned for being the family whore. He wouldn’t understand that though. My dad had a lot of plans for me. I’d already gone against him by becoming a nurse. He may be accepting of my career choice because it is still in the medical field, but he would not be okay with his only child getting knocked up during a drunken rendezvous.

  “Possibly.” I lied again. My family dynamics were not up for discussion.

  “Have you been seen at all?”

  “No.”

  “I can schedule you for a quick ultrasound just so we can check the fetal growth and get a better time frame how far along you are.”

  “I can’t. I don’t want anyone to see me on the roster and question what’s going on. Patient confidentiality may be one thing, but nurses do talk.”

  He frowned. “Well, that’s disappointing.”

  Tell me about it. “I’m just going to go by the date of my last period.”

  “Macie, you do know that if you choose to not keep the baby, we don’t do that here.”

  Unfortunately, I was aware. “Mhmm,” I mumbled.

  “Planned Parenthood is a very safe place, and I could refer you to one of my good friends who works there if you’d like?”

  My bag was sitting on the floor next to me. I stuck my hand inside and pulled out a pad of paper and pen. “Sure, what’s the name.”

  He passed along the information, and then gave me a very solemn face. His dark eyes appearing even more tired. “If you need anything else, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

  I nodded. “Thanks.” Standing up, I went for the door. My back was too him and I was about to step out when I added, “And, please, I’d like to just forget this little meeting took place. Okay?”

  Silence spanned the room before he said, “All right.”

  I went out into the hall and shut the door behind me. Five days. I had five more days to figure out what the fuck I was going to do. Either keep the pregnancy and let everyone know what’s going on, or terminate the pregnancy and try to move forward. I was never one to even consider the second option as a choice. It’s not how I was raised. However, in my current predicament, I had to consider it. A baby would change my entire life. It would change Dodger’s entire life. Well, that’s if I told him. I nearly busted out laughing at myself. Me, not tell Dodger he had a child? Oh, the hell I’d pay for that one. I’d have to move out of the state and away from everyone and everything that I know to keep that kind of secret. I didn’t want to do that. I also didn’t want Dodger Brooks in my life for the next eighteen years either.

  Cheese and rice, I was in one hell of a pickle.

  Chapter Two

  ONLY TWO DAYS HAD PASSED, and I was no closer to sorting this mess out than I was in Doctor Carrie’s office. My mind kept going to one thing: Dodger. Dodger, Dodger, Dodger. He was all I could think about. Flopping down onto a metal chair outside of a frozen yogurt shop, my mind was racing. Do I tell him? Do I not tell him? Do I give him the chance to have an opinion about this whole situation? Or do I just make the choice and handle the consequences afterwards? I took a massive spoonful of my cake batter yogurt with strawberries and shoved it in my mouth. It was cold, melting on my tongue and the liquid sliding to the back of my throat. Anything super solid didn’t seem to sit well with me. Popsicles and ice cream were the key to keeping the morning sickness mostly at bay. My hips were going to hate me, but I didn’t care. Anything to keep my face out of the fucking toilet. I’d pull in some extra cardio or something later. Who was I kidding, I don’t run. I put my hand up to shield my eyes. Jesus, who turned up the fucking brightness out here? For as bright was it was outside, the air was crisp, and we were well into the fall season.

  Okay, I thought to myself, here was the deal—I am pro-choice. I’ve always thought the woman has a right to choose what would be best for her. However, depending on the situation, I also felt that the guy had a right to know and help with the decision. I mean, what if he wanted the baby and would want to raise him or her? It was only fair that the father had some sort of say even though the final decision was the woman’s. Now that this particular case involves me, and a giant six-foot-three man that I can’t seem to shake from my mind, all of that doesn’t seem to matter anymore.

  The scenarios I that could happen ranged anywhere from Dodger
and I yelling and a massive fight ensuing—I’m talking World War III, someone isn’t coming out alive type of fight. He could also be in total denial. He might accuse me of sleeping with someone else, getting pregnant, and then pinning the baby daddy role on him. Which would also lead to someone dying by the end of the conversation if he accused me of such things. Or best case scenario, and one I couldn’t see happening, he would be happy about this. He’d be excited about fatherhood, and we could hash out the details of raising a child as the pregnancy progressed.

  No matter what though, all of these options led me to the one that weighed heaviest on me. Do I just not tell him or anyone else and get rid of it? While my brain wanted to reject that idea from the get-go, I didn’t know how to raise a child. I still lived at home with my parents. Dodger and I weren’t even in a relationship. I was barely taking care of myself. I scooped another huge spoonful into my mouth and gulped it down, not allowing it to even melt.

  I sucked in air and brought my hand to my head. “Ouch! Shit, shit, shit.”

  Brain freeze. Slow down, Macie.

  Just then a group of young teenage girls walked in front of me giggling and pointing at something on one of their phones. Probably that stupid Pokémon Go game. God, life was so much easier back then. I felt so melancholy and down on myself. Yogurt was the only thing giving me some ease. Busy mind and upset stomach. I looked down as if to see something budding there. I didn’t have a little bump, and I wasn’t feeling any flutters. I pushed my spoon into the soft dessert, and let my hand drop. Spreading my fingers, I gently placed my palm on my stomach. It was still as flat as it was three months ago before the wedding. Whatever was growing inside me was making no rush of showing itself.

  Sitting back, I exhaled and closed my eyes. If was living on my own, and in a stable relationship, this would have been the happiest news. Why did I go fucking up my life like this over and over again? I certainly was no prude when it came to the physical side of dating, but I was always careful. Always. It was never a question that condoms were number one for me when having sex, while birth control was a close second. So what was it that fucked up that night for me? Why did I have the most epic screw up of screw ups?

  Simple . . . it was Dodger.

  Sure, I’d been safe with him when we first started dating almost two years ago, but as we grew into our relationship, we started skipping the condoms and we relied on my birth control. We were exclusive with each other. Both of us were clean. We had no reason to believe that anything would happen. I trusted him. That is, until we broke up.

  The break up wasn’t mutual. Not in the least. I wanted it, Dodger didn’t. He asked me over and over again what my reasons were for walking away, and to be honest, I never gave him a solid one. I didn’t have any. Not one that made sense. The relationship was just too serious. It was going somewhere. It had the potential to be forever. Macie doesn’t do forever. I knew if I had stayed with him to much longer, Dodger would be talking about getting engaged. That was the natural progression of things, right? I wasn’t ready. The thought of forever terrified me. Being married terrified me. Buying a house terrified me. Having a baby terrified me. Every girl in the female population I’ve ever come across loved to talk about it, dreaming of their futures. I just wanted to be me. No attachments. Hell, I didn’t even want a dog, cat, or fish. I’d probably kill it.

  This was stupid. I stood up, frustrated and needing to shake this bad mood. Only way to do that was to make a decision. I just needed to do it and stick to it. Time that I didn’t seem to have enough of was passing at a faster rate than I cared for, and I needed to simply make a choice and run with it. I knew what I needed to do, it just wasn’t going to be a pretty thing to witness.

  I needed to find Dodger and speak to him. He ultimately had a right to know what was going on inside of my body, consequences be damned. I’d deal with whatever he wanted to say in the aftermath. Only half of this little human was me. Therefore, the choice was only half mine.

  Resigned, I scooted the metal chair under the table, and threw away my empty yogurt cup. A chill ran up my spine. It wasn’t from the cold. I was finally taking steps toward something for the first time in weeks. I was going to see the one man that had gotten under my skin. I was going to look him in his baby blue eyes and say, “We screwed up, now what are we going to do about it?”

  I knew I’d likely find him at the gym where he worked as a physical therapist. Climbing in my car, I started the engine and put the car in reverse. The Dugout was only a few miles from here. Certainly not far enough for me to change my mind and drive out of town. I’d get there, find him in the back room that was designated for his clients, and I’d speak to him in private. Everything was going to be okay. And maybe I’d be able to breathe again. At least this is what I was telling myself.

  The few miles went quickly. Dodger’s car was parked in its usual spot, but it didn’t take long for me to put my car in park and see him standing in the front window. I couldn’t help the way my heart fluttered when I saw his handsome face. Dodger was tall with medium brown hair, and light blue eyes. His build was more lean, athletic, but still very muscular. He took extremely good care of himself. He had a rich deep voice, with a slight Georgia accent. All of these things made the girls flock to him. But what really melted those panties off the ladies was his signature smile. It was a smile that was so big you could see it from a distance. It was slightly crooked and gave him the advantage over me every time he flashed it. The bastard knew it too.

  As quickly as my heart started its gallop, it came to an abrupt halt when I saw the bitch he was standing next too. Her name was Dana. She was the front desk attendant at the gym. Her job was greeting patrons, handing out towels, and answering the phone. But if you asked me, she was there to be a worthless waste of space. My first encounter with Dana was two years ago when Dodger had brought Keegan and me to workout. Much to Keegan’s dismay, Dodger was trying to prove to Keegan that she was better than she thought of herself. Just so happened that evening, Dana was sitting at the front desk, picking her nails, and looking like she had a tree branch shoved up her ass. I’ll never forget the look on her face when she saw me standing next to Dodger. Pure jealousy. That night she watched me like a hawk.

  I’d learned a few things about Dana since meeting her. First and foremost, she was head over heels in love with Dodger Brooks. She’d do just about anything to dig her claws into him. I’d asked him several times during our time together if he’d ever been with her and he’d said no, never. He said she wasn’t his type. I could see that. Dana wasn’t very tall. She had blonde hair that was cut short, and one side was shaved. She kept the longer hair brushed over to the side, showing off a tattoo behind her ear. Dana actually had tattoos all over her body. From a colorful sleeve full of nautical themed markings, to a skull candy on her upper thigh. Dana was the epitome of edgy. Dodger never struck me as the type to be attracted to girls that painted themselves that way. Sure, I was loud and demanded that eyes be on me, but she did it in a different fashion.

  Now it seemed the tables were turned. Sitting outside the gym like a stalker, I watched on as they interacted with one another. He’d speak to someone as they passed by, and she would as well. I scrutinized her every move. The way she leaned into him a little closer. Or how she’d bat her false lashes. When she’d laugh at something he’d say, she would lay her hand on top of his forearm. I gritted my teeth to clinch back my natural instinct to go in there and slam her face into the desk. She shouldn’t be touching him. In fact, no one should be. Fuck being jealous. I’d blame this on the pregnancy hormones if anyone asked. I felt like a crazy person sitting here. Thankfully, it was fairly dark out and if either one glanced outside, they wouldn’t see me.

  “He’s not yours anymore, Macie.” Jesus, if anybody knew the emotions rolling through me. I felt like someone with multiple personality disorder. None of this made any sense to me. I shouldn’t want him. I let him go that night. He said he wanted me, and I let h
im walk right out that door of his parents’ pool house without a word. Yet, here I sit, not wanting anyone else to have him. Especially not “waste of space” Dana.

  Sighing heavily, I resigned myself to the fact that any and all plans to go in and speak to Dodger went out the window. I had been ready to tell him everything, no matter the consequences, but I was nowhere near ready to deal with Dana on top of everything else today. Even if she didn’t say a word to me, just her fucking face was enough to make me lose my cool right now. I was tired. My shoulders drooped. Was this conversation ever going to happen? I couldn’t say if my courage or strength would be hanging around.

  “Home I go,” I grumbled to myself.

  Pausing for a few more seconds to watch, I eventually put the car in drive and headed out. This decision very well may be mine and mine alone.

  ***

  It was decision time. I had no more hours on the clock. I thought about everything with every waking minute. How could I not. It consumed me. I felt like the entire weight of the world was on my shoulders. An angel, and a devil. Both sides screaming to pick them.

  I didn’t like that it was, but I was the one that put myself in this predicament. Okay, I realize that it takes two to tango, but I knew better. I knew what it took to prevent any of this, and I was stupid living in the moment. I needed to be an adult about the choices that I made and start working on figuring out who I was, and what kind of life I wanted to live. Which ultimately, is where I’m sitting now. Several days, a few pints of ice cream, a few seasons of Grey’s Anatomy, and one day called in sick later, my mind was made up.

  I was keeping it. What it boiled down to was, I had a life inside of me. It had a heartbeat. It had little limbs. It was a part of me, and whether I wanted to admit it or not, it was a part of him as well. So inadvertently, I loved it already. This baby was going to turn my life upside down and I knew I was definitely prepared for that, but it was time to get ready. I had no choice. Ready or not, motherhood, here I come. I was so going to suck at this, but I didn’t care. I had to try.