Megan
A few months later.
“Hey lady, do you want to hit El Ranchito for some tacos and cervezas? Jen, Elias, and I are planning to catch a cab there. We can fit one more. What do you say?” Mira chirps.
I make a face.
“I think I’m going to skip lunch today. I’m feeling so nauseous. I’ve been feeling off ever since I woke up this morning, and it was all I could do to get out of John’s place before losing last night’s dinner. Thanks for the offer, but I’ll have to wait until next time.”
I cough a bit into my hand and it sounds a little like a retch. Mira looks concerned, and pats my shoulder comfortingly.
“Again?” Mira asks. “You were feeling sick last week too. Get yourself to a doctor! You need to take care of yourself, lady.”
I smile wanly.
“I know, I know. If I’m not doing better in the next couple of days, I’ll make an appointment. Thanks for looking out for me.”
She shoots me a sympathetic look.
“Feel better, girlfriend. Shoot me a text if you want me to bring anything back for you, okay?”
One by one, the office clears out until I am left sitting in silence at my desk. I begin to think about what Mira said: I’ve been feeling sick a lot, and I should get myself to a doctor. It’s been like this on and off for the last couple of weeks now, and it’s especially bad in the mornings. My stomach roils again, and I run to the women’s restroom just in case. Thank god, there’s no one to see me.
But when I come out of the stall, I look at myself in the mirror. There I am, same as always, except that I’m sweating profusely. My hair looks a bit matted, and I’m flushed and glowing. Suddenly, a thought strikes and I go still with shock.
Oh my goodness. Could it be what I think it is? John and I have been making love a lot lately. In the beginning, I was only staying at his place once every week or so. But the past month or two, I’ve practically been living at his penthouse in the city. We use protection, of course, but there were a few times when it was so hot that we slipped. I trust him whole-heartedly, so I’m never worried about catching anything, but now I’m facing the other side of the coin. Oh my god. Everything just felt so natural, and I wouldn’t want him to NOT to come inside of me.
My body begins to vibrate at the thought of having John’s baby. I always thought that if I got pregnant at twenty-five, it would feel like a huge mistake. It would be a disaster and the end of my life as I know it. In this moment though, picturing myself raising a child with John, I feel gentle tendrils of hope. I feel joyful at the thought of sharing the miracle of a child with him.
Wait a minute, am I crazy? A baby? I still don’t know very much about John. Yes, he’s charming and he’ll talk for hours about my family, my work, and my interests. But he never says that much about his own family or his own career. I guess I never pressed him on these things because I figured it would just come out in time. But now, am I ready to have a baby with a man who’s still so mysterious?
Plus, what has our relationship blossomed into? Everything happened so fast. One minute, I was sitting by myself in a restaurant, and the next week, I was spending a few days at his country home. It has been absolutely marvelous, and I guess that’s why we’ve never sat down to have one of those clichéd talks. You know the “define the relationship” conversation. The one where you discuss things like, ‘What are we labeling this, what are your intentions, let’s create a ten-year plan.’ It just seemed unnecessary because our relationship has been tender, passionate, and absolutely perfect so far. Is that a crime?
But sitting here reflecting on it all, I realize something even more important. Not only do I love spending time with John, but I am in love with him. I have fallen for John Miller, and now I think there’s a possibility that I’m carrying his child.
I have to know. I grab my purse and run to the corner drugstore to buy a pregnancy test. Thank goodness I have a relatively long lunch break and no one else is in the office right now. I bring the paper box back to the still empty office and go directly to the restroom to get my answer.
The three-minute wait is the longest three minutes of my life. I pace the restroom at least a hundred times, popping my head out the door now and again to make sure that no one has returned yet from lunch. The last thing I need is someone barging in and finding me waiting on a pregnancy test in our shared bathroom. Not only would it be awkward, but I’d have to answer a lot of uncomfortable questions, like who the father is. And while some co-workers know I’m dating someone, I’ve tried to keep it on the down-low as much as I possibly can.
I check the test, and it’s still in limbo. I swear, the universe is playing a cruel trick on me and has caused time to stop. I check the time on my phone and confirm that the seconds are still ticking by. Two minutes have passed. Why don’t these tests work faster?
I peep out the door again. People are slowly beginning to filter back in. I see Mira in the break room putting her leftovers into the fridge. She and Elias are almost falling over laughing, alternating holding each other up. They must have really hit the margaritas hard today.
I do not want to leave this test behind in the bathroom garbage, no matter what the results are. I would be mortified if someone found it and somehow connected it to me. I will sneak it back to my desk and quickly stash it in my desk drawer until the end of the day. Then, I can find a good time to put it in to my purse without anyone seeing, and dispose of it in my bathroom garbage at home, where it is safe from being found.
But how on Earth am I going to get past a drunk Mira without having to talk to her? She’s going to know because she knows me too well. That girl has a sixth sense. Damnit. Oh, how I wish I brought my purse into the restroom with me.
I step back into the stall and close the door behind me, anxiously rubbing my eyes with the palms of my hands. The test is on the metal box in the stall, the plastic indicator so small and yet so consuming. I blink again, and glance at it. Then, I do a double take.
Did I just see what I think I did? I grab the test and my body begins to shake.
Two pink lines. I’m pregnant.
This is beyond unexpected. When I woke up this morning, I definitely did not think I would find out I was with child by lunch time! I should be scared, and adrenaline pumps through my body in wild rushes. I’m anxious, but at the same time, I’m also so unbelievably happy. I have to tell John, but what will he say? Will he accept our baby, or leave me to raise it by myself?
I don’t know, but I know what I have to do. And then I make a resolution. When I tell him about the baby, I’ll tell him that I love him too.
I take a moment to absorb everything, holding the test to my heart as my eyes fill with joyful tears. Then, I inhale deeply and pull myself together. I try to look as normal as possible heading back to my desk, although it feels like I’m walking on air.
Getting the test safely stashed away in my desk drawer is much easier than I anticipated. Mira is practically asleep at her desk by the time I leave the bathroom, and no one else really pays me any mind as I briskly make my way down the hall. I suppose it was silly of me to be so worried, because why would any of my co-workers want to know what I’m holding in my hand? My fingers curl around the plastic indicator, and I try to keep it slightly behind my body, in case I bump into someone.
Then, I arrive at my desk. Whew! I slip the pregnancy test into the top left drawer of my desk and sit down, letting out a sigh of relief. Now all I need to do is get through the last half of my workday, and then I’ll talk to John. I need to tell him that I love him, and that he’s granted me the gift of motherhood.