by Kelli Walker
“I… oh, no.”
He smiled reassuringly. “Late?”
I nodded nervously, not finding any words to give an audible answer. The doctor nodded in return, placing his thin file of my basic medical history aside. “Okay, don’t worry, Miss Andrews. We’re going to have you take a normal urinary pregnancy test so that you can have an answer one way or the other as quickly as possible. In the meantime, I’m going to take a blood sample for an official screening. Those results will take about an hour, and we’ll call you with the results, but you’ll be able to get out of here with the urinary results, which will almost certainly give you an accurate answer. Does that sound good? Yes? Okay. Do you have any questions for me before I go fetch the nurse?”
I shook my head in a daze, already processing all the possibilities.
I emerged back into the waiting room where Ryan was slouched, staring at the door. He shot up straight in his chair, raising his eyes in expectation. I smiled but couldn’t meet his gaze for long. I finished with the receptionist, and he came alongside me as we exited into the office’s outer corridor.
I could see how badly he wanted to ask. I kept my eyes on my shoes but finally found the right approach.
“I’m fine. There’s nothing wrong, and I’m not sick… I’ll tell you everything the doctor said as soon as we get back to your place. He wants me to take it easy for the rest of the day.”
I met Ryan’s eyes, wanting to see his reaction. It was clear that he was wrestling with having to wait, but he knew that it really wasn’t his place to petition for information in the first place.
“As long as everything is fine, you don’t have to share anything that you don’t want to. Let’s get you back to the apartment, okay?”
I nodded, returning my gaze to my feet beneath me, painfully aware that there was a very plausible chance that everything was not going to just be fine. At the very least, everything had changed.
Ryan
“Ryan, there isn’t any easy way to say this, so… just sit down next to me here on the bed, and I’ll just put it out there.”
I did as I was beckoned, moving slowly, but remaining close to her.
“I’m… pregnant.”
I felt my face go slack with rubberized elasticity. In fact, my whole body seemed to droop and shrink beneath me. I would’ve had a more masculine reaction if I’d suddenly been staring down the barrel of a loaded gun.
“You’re… pr-pregnant? With a… baby?” Comprehension seemed to dawn like an epiphany warming his complexion. “Our…?”
She nodded, desperately trying to read whatever hidden thoughts were written behind my brow’s furrows of concentration.
“You’re… But, the doctors… They’re sure?”
Again, Harley nodded. “I mean, technically there’s still a chance… but the odds of a false-positive are practically zero.” She glanced at my bedside clock. “They should be calling me in twenty minutes or so with the results of the blood test, which will confirm it beyond a doubt. But I already know it’s true, Ryan. I’m pregnant.”
“So, I’m going to…”
I couldn’t finish the sentence. It was too outlandish, and I was instantly more terrified than I ever had been before. Mental flashes of memory - mostly of my father - paraded behind my eyes, blinding me to all else in the room. The association within my mind, as I attempted to mediate between my own self-image and my perception of my dad… I began to feel more than a little lightheaded as if I’d just realized that I was aboard a tiny rowboat surrendering to sea-sickness amid a hurricane.
I turned to Harley, further thrown by her apparent exhaustion, apprehension, and terror. I swallowed my emotions, as bitter and undercooked as they were, making a conscious choice, needing to know where she was in all of this.
“Are you okay? How do you feel about… this?”
She smiled uncomfortably, making it a question aimed at me. I recognized that and tried to show her that I wasn’t necessarily unhappy - it was just too much to take in - but the disappointment in Harley’s eyes made me realize that whatever painful grimace I had offered her did not get the job done. In fact, it did the opposite.
I hadn’t asked to be a father, but I wasn’t arrogant enough to suggest to myself that I wasn’t immune to the responsibility of making it so. All I wanted was to be with Harley. When I said I’d buy a house back home, I was in no way implying that I was ready to anchor down and start a family.
I had no idea what it was that I was feeling, but whatever emotions were circling and colliding within my head, they were fusing and reacting like a chemical experiment gone awry. My fists began to shake, and my breath shook within my chest as anger enveloped me from the inside out. I writhed internally as I kept it confined, loving Harley despite my confusion and not wanting to let her become the easy target if it were to be released.
Whatever my intentions were, Harley steadily became increasingly distant. I could see that my reaction wasn’t helping one bit. The weariness apparent upon her face seemed to have doubled just due to my presence. It made me feel like an awful human being, but that only furthered my inability to conceptualize, communicate, and, ultimately, show her that I cared.
“Look, Ryan, clearly you weren’t ready for this and, frankly, neither was I. Unlike you, I don’t have the luxury of shutting down and figuring out how I feel. I’m going to bed.”
I didn’t argue, honestly relieved to step away and let my brain begin to beat back my initial emotional response.
I stayed up all night, thinking and trying to wrap my head around the new status quo, stressing to the point that I searched out an abandoned half-sleeve of cigarettes from my first years adjusting to life in the city.
As dawn hinted at the Eastern sky, my mind became more oriented. I made several phone calls, waking some very confused people. I didn’t share the news with any of them, preferring to keep that private for now. Instead, I issued a series of requests, questions, and contact information, letting my mental arbitration begin to physically manifest in the form of plans, procedures, and my own impatience.
It was midday before Harley joined me on the balcony. I offered a better attempt than my previous night’s effort at a reassuring smile, but it seemed that sleep had already solidified her acceptance that I was no longer on her side.
“Hi, Harley. Good morning.”
“Hello. Did you sleep?”
I shook my head, wrongfully thinking that admitting to such would show her how much I cared. Instead, she nodded knowingly, receiving further confirmation that I was too uncomfortable with the idea to even lie down next to her.
In hindsight, I should’ve slowed my mind and spent as much time as necessary to simply talk things out with her. Instead, like an idiot, I allowed myself to continue with my personal plans in mind, failing to recognize that the sense of urgency with which I was operating was a choice I could’ve abstained from.
“Harley, I’ve been up all night thinking. This… This changes everything. I came here thinking I could get caught up on work, and you could see what my life is like here in the city, then we would go back to South Dakota and pick up where we left off. But now? I feel like you should go back sooner rather than later. I’ll meet you there just as soon as I’m done with work, I promise.”
“You… You want me to leave?”
“No! Well… yes, actually. But not like that. I think it would be best. Don’t you? In order for me to go back, I have to get things caught up with Joe and with you… like this, now… I just don’t think I can do that and leave you here alone. Back home, you’ll have your parents, your friends… and, honestly, I could use a little more time and space to think about things. This is a lot to take in.”
I became a little alarmed and very confused as Harley took on a ferocity I hadn’t at all expected.
“Are you kidding me?” The words were like venom coming from her mouth. “I tell you I’m pregnant after I followed you out here… And you’re sending me away? What
the… What kind of… Who the Hell do you think you are?!”
I was speechless. Not only did I have no idea Harley was becoming so angry, but I also didn’t even have the first clue why she suddenly hated me so.
“Whoa. Whoa. Let’s take a second here. Harley, I just told you I care and that… I just think you should go home a few days sooner than we planned. I’ll…”
“Oh, and I’m supposed to just ignore the fact that I’m pregnant? Do you really think I’m that dumb, that I wouldn’t see what you’re doing?”
“Harley… What in the world has gotten into you? You’re acting absurd. Of course, I want you to go back because you’re pregnant. Why is that so hard for you to wrap your head around? I’m trying to be honest with you, and I feel like you aren’t considering my feelings at all. Do you think this is easy for me?”
She moved aggressively toward me, and I backed sharply into the balcony railing, emotionally reeling with confusion as I saw myself about to be walking the plank toward the churning tide of commuting vehicles below.
“I’M not considering YOUR feelings? What about MY feelings, Ryan?! If anyone is the victim here, it’s me! You’re acting like I have some kind of parasite. You put it there! And, from what I recall, you seemed to have a pretty good time doing it. I cannot believe I actually thought this could end up being any kind of positive for us. Us! As if that concept really ever occurred to you. You’re a piece of shit, Ryan, and I don’t know what I was doing, thinking that I could actually trust you. Oh, you put on a sweet show, the way you play with the little kids, and throw your money around like it’s nothing, but at the end of the day, you’re just the same self-serving, selfish asshole you’ve always been.”
“Harley?! Harley! Stop!”
I grabbed her by the arms, more so because she was already in my face, and I had no other way of getting her attention. “Harley, I love you. That hasn’t changed! I wasn’t saying that I needed time to think about how I feel about YOU… I have no idea how to think about THIS.” I gestured with open palms at her stomach, trying to find some way of communicating with her before the chaos between us took any darker of a turn.
She froze with wide eyes when I grabbed her arms and shrunk away as I yelled down at her. When I finished, Harley was backing away. She responded to my words, but somehow, she still wasn’t making any sense. It was like she was picking out one or two words from the dozens I’d offered her, plucking them from the rest and twisting them to fit a meaning that wasn’t my own.
She sighed dramatically, flicking the hair from her eyes before replying with less toxicity but even more defiant resolve.
“Well, I’m sorry, Ryan. I’m sorry that things are a little more complicated now. Let me speed things up for you a little bit, though, since you’re apparently looking for a way out: Don’t tell me that you don’t know what to think. Who knows? Maybe you actually think you’re telling the truth. But your actions make it very, very clear what you think. Somebody who is honestly trying to figure this out… their next thought, two seconds later, wouldn’t be to abandon the person they said they loved. You might think you’re just sending away the baby, but, unless you haven’t noticed, Ryan…” She took my gesture at her stomach and used it for herself. “...There isn’t really much of a difference right now.”
Harley turned on her heel and started to storm back inside. I grabbed again at her arm, still trying to reacquire some kind of communal footing. “Harley, I’m not abandoning you!”
“Don’t touch me!” She flew back around and pointed a finger so close to my nose that my eyes instinctively went cross-eyed to see it. I could see it quivering, but Harley wasn’t done. Her angry resurgence brought my attention back to her fuming, furious face.
“Keep your hands off of me, Ryan. I’ll do what you wanted. I’ll leave. Right now, in fact. Call your little pilot and tell him to get your precious plane ready or else I’ll go downstairs and hail a cab. I don’t care if I have to buy a ticket myself. I don’t want to spend another second here with you.”
She disappeared inside and slammed my bedroom door shut, presumably to gather her things. I stood there, shocked, hurt, and, for some reason, disappointed in myself. I started to contemplate why I would feel such a way as I called the hotline for the company driving service.
“Yes, this is Mr. Fleming. I need the supervising manager to depart for a pickup outside my home address for a VIP to be taken to the airport. Yes, immediately. No, I will not be joining. To the company plane, yes. Thanks.”
I hung up and stood there silently for a moment, dumbstruck. I called the pilot and, in a monotone voice, apologized in case there was any inconvenience, but told him I needed the jet prepped for immediate travel back to South Dakota.
As I again brought the phone down from my ear, I realized the nature of my self-loathing, although I still couldn’t fathom why it manifested.
This is exactly how I felt about myself when I was walking away from Harley in the park all those years ago. But… I’m not breaking up with her!
I struggled with the notion, wondering why I couldn’t even believe myself even though I knew it to be true. I meant what I told her: I was going to follow her back home as soon as I got things in order.
It occurred to me that I might divulge the full extent of my plans, but before I could reach a conclusion, Harley emerged from the bedroom with her suitcase in tow. Her eyes were red, puffy, and bloodshot. Her makeup was, of course, awry, and the streams of tears were still trailing down her cheeks.
I moved toward her, but she backed away. Full of purpose, she posed me a command in the form of a question.
“Well? Will you take me to the airport, or should I start practicing how to whistle down a cab?”
There wasn’t an ounce of humor apparent on her face. I opened my mouth to answer, but I wasn’t sure what to say. I didn’t want her to leave at all, but definitely not like this. I wanted to understand but wouldn’t have dreamed of forcing her to stay if it was what she really wanted.
Before I could settle on even a single phrase in response, my phone buzzed, and I looked down. With a hollow heart, I finally answered Harley.
“There is a car waiting for you downstairs. The driver’s name is Omar. He’s a transportation manager at the company. He will take you to the plane, which is being prepared for you as we speak. Harley, I…”
Before I could finish, she was out the door.
I didn’t get emotional when my dad told me that I wasn’t his son anymore if I walked out their door. As much as I missed my mother and was mortified by her passing, I didn’t weep when she died.
I hadn’t shed a single tear since I was still wearing Velcro light-up shoes and got in trouble for hiding my baby brother’s pacifier, but standing there - a grown-ass man in charge of a company worth more than a third of the countries in the world combined - I began to break down. The sight of Harley disappearing over the threshold and the sound of the door slamming shut behind her… That horrifying reality set in, echoing over and over in my mind until I reached a gut-wrenching conclusion.
She’s gone. I don’t know how or why, but she’s gone.
At that moment, nothing else in the world mattered. I hated myself, realizing that Harley was never coming back. I had a second chance, and, somehow, I blew it. Although it tore at my insides to admit it, I knew that there was no way I would get a third.
Harley
When I opened Ryan’s bedroom door, my sympathy guards were erected and unbreachable, barricaded behind a thick wall of apathy and doubt. I wasn’t going to give him a word, not even the shred of a chance to weasel his way out of what he’d done. I couldn’t allow myself to even entertain the possibility. He’d already hoodwinked me twice, and, with the news I’d received at the doctor’s office, I no longer had the luxury of idly tossing around my heart and priorities.
I’m going to be a mother.
The thought still hadn’t settled in my mind. I kept bouncing back to it as I let Ryan’s
driver take my bag, and I carefully climbed into the town car's backseat. As we waded our way through the cluster-fuck of New York cab traffic, the reminder that there was something alive growing inside of me kept creeping back, punctuating my hateful thoughts of Ryan and what he’d just done to me.
The driver merged onto highways, stretching away from the shadows of the city skyscrapers. The space between each vehicle increased, as did our speed. I found myself staring out at the bay, diffusing my anger into the Atlantic void, only to be replaced by the embrace of a harsh bitterness.
I wished I’d been more careful, wondering when the conception took place. I was so lost in my affections for Ryan… I couldn’t even begin to narrow it down. I was a fool, and, despite my acceptance of the horizon’s sudden shift, I wanted more than anything to undo the situation and go back to the way we were.
The flicker of runway lights through the windshield was soon followed by the aircraft hangar coming into view. I thanked the driver with the magnetism of a mouse. He nodded, probably thankful that the ride was over without incident, judging by my mascara’s condition.
The pilot appeared at the plane’s stairway. His smile turned to a frown as he saw my eyes. I smiled as best I could, but I saw his gaze dart to meet the driver's. The pilot’s attention returned to me, and he professionally redoubled his efforts, descending to claim my bag for the journey back to South Dakota.
“Hello again, Miss Andrews. It’s just me this evening - no attendants due to the short notice - but, please, let me know if I can do anything to make you more comfortable.”
“Thank you, but I’ll manage. You know where we’re going?”
He nodded, and I took a seat in one of the few leather cushioned lounge chairs, buckling my seatbelt as he watched the stairs retract and closed the jet door.
“Can… Can I use my phone, or do I need to wait until after we take off?”
