Chapter Fifteen

“Damn, just what kind of Mandingo man is this Grand Nelson?” Dee asked as she sat in Pia’s office, staring her boss down in disbelief. “Besides fine, he’s obviously virile as hell. So how far along are you?”

“I’ve missed one period and I’m late this month. I took another EPT this morning and it was positive.”

“So are you going to call Grand and tell him he’s going to be a daddy?”

“No. He doesn’t want to know if I get pregnant, and if I do, other than a yearly update, I promised not to involve him unless he requests it. Dee, am I doing the right thing having his baby?”

“You’re not having second thoughts because Grand doesn’t want to be involved, are you? I thought that was the plan. You didn’t fall for him or anything, did you?”

“Oh, no. Absolutely not. Grand is sexy as hell and we have an off-the-charts sexual chemistry, but that’s where it ends. Neither one of us is interested in the other like that.”

“Okay, then I don’t get why you’re questioning yourself. Ever since I’ve known you, you’ve always talked about wanting a kid. And even with all your plumbing issues, you got pregnant on the first try. This baby is meant to be.”

“That is true.”

“So, chica, what’s next?” Darlene asked, leaving out all the smart cracks and putting a supportive arm around her boss.

“I’m going to see Dr. Montrae today at one and make sure that everything is okay.”

“And then?”

“And then, I guess I’m going to have a baby,” Pia declared softly before releasing a big sigh.

Dee, unable to contain her enthusiasm any longer, began doing the highly contagious happy dance, causing Pia to momentarily forget her queasy stomach and conflicting emotions and join in. She allowed herself to revel in the realization that after wishing on so many stars, fountains, candles, and turkey bones, she was finally going to be a mother.

“But you can’t tell anyone. Not even Hector. At least not yet.”

“I won’t, but you’re going to have to tell someone else.”

“I know, and I’m dreading it,” Pia admitted.

“You have to do it. You have to tell Maizelle.”

“Despite the fact that my mother has been wanting and waiting to be a grandmother for years, she’s going to freak out when she finds out that I’m pregnant by a man I have no intention of marrying.”

“Chica, surely your mother is aware that you’re not some teen pregnancy statistic,” Dee teased.

“My teen years may be long gone, but that won’t matter much to Maizelle. She’s a traditionalist all the way. In my mother’s eyes an unwed mother is an unwed mother—no matter what her age.”

“In that case, you might want to tell her soon. She’s going to need these next seven months to get used to the idea.”

“You’re right. I just have no idea what to say.”

“Try saying, ‘Mami, the sad news is that I’m not getting married. The glad news is that I’m pregnant. And the best news is that the paramedics are standing by.’”

Pia stared at the ceiling tiles and listened to the crinkling sound of her paper gown as she lay on the examining table. She winced slightly as the doctor spread the cool, clear gel across her belly in preparation for the ultrasound.

“This is just to help the transducer pass smoothly over your abdomen,” Dr. Montrae informed her. “In just a minute, we’ll be able to see the baby’s heartbeat and make sure we have a viable pregnancy.”

Viable. Pia ran through the word’s definitions in her head. Feasible, practical, doable. Suddenly all the logical concerns she’d pushed to the back of her head came rushing to the forefront. What the hell was I thinking? Have I lost my damn mind? How am I going to raise a child by myself? Especially with my work and travel schedule? And particularly when Maizelle is going to disown me for being a trollop and her grandchild for being illegitimate?

The whooshing sound of the ultrasound drowned out her thoughts and forced Pia’s attention back into the room. She was greeted by the fast, steady beat of a fetal heart. It was a beautiful sound that washed away all her doubt.

“That’s it? That’s my baby?” she asked, lifting her head to look at the grainy black-and-white image.

“Yes, Pia, congratulations. You are officially a mother-to-be.”

Pia acknowledged the news with a weak smile and a deep sigh. “Hi, my miracle baby,” she whispered.

“Let’s see, today is April seventeenth. Judging from the date of your last period and the size of the fetus, I’d say you’re about eight weeks pregnant. You can expect your little bundle of joy somewhere around Thanksgiving, give or take a week.”

Still too stunned to speak, Pia simply shook her head. She felt strangely detached from this experience. It was as if her thoughts, emotions, and senses were muddled together, filling the room with a thick fog and keeping her from totally engaging in the reality.

“Are you okay with this? This is what you want, correct?”

“Yes, this is what I want. It just feels a little strange—in a good way.”

“Because of your age, I’ll be doing a few extra tests to rule out any chromosomal issues like Down syndrome,” the doctor said as she wiped the gel from Pia’s belly and helped her into a sitting position. “All routine stuff, so I don’t want you to worry. Now do you have any questions?”

“The queasiness. That’s normal, right?”

“Perfectly normal. Just keep your stomach from being empty by eating small meals and munching on saltines or rice cakes in between. That should help. Start taking your prenatal vitamins, and I will see you in a month. If you have any issues or questions before then, give me a call. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

Only if you can tell my mother that her grandchild was conceived in a relationship that was based on the endearing premise of Knock Me Up and Go Away.

“I’m fine, Dr. Montrae. See you next month, and thank you.”

Pia dressed and minutes later stepped into New York’s spring sunshine feeling unsteady and indecisive. It was a foreign sensation. But the fact was that in a few short months Pia’s life was going to change forever. And crazy hormone fluctuations aside, she needed to get a firm grasp on her fast-changing world. And now was as good a time as any to get started. Conjuring up her deceased father’s wise advice of ‘Start it the way you want it to end,’ Pia fished out her cell phone and dialed the number she’d been calling for the past twenty years. In the ring span of six seconds, Pia sent a prayer up to the heavens, asking God to fill her mother’s heart with love and understanding and, if that wasn’t possible, the ability to forgive in time to babysit.

“Hello.”

“Mom, how are you?”

“Pia? I’m fine. Where are you?”

“Here in New York.”

“Done globe-trotting for a while?”

“I wish. I’m leaving for London tomorrow and will be gone a week. I thought maybe we could have one of our legendary mother-daughter gabfests when I get back.”

“I’d like that, honey—it’s been a long time since we’ve had a chance to really sit down and talk.”

“Me too. How about brunch on Saturday of next week?” Pia asked, knowing the majority of her mother’s Sunday was taken up at the church. “I can meet you at eleven at Zoe’s.”

“My favorite restaurant? Okay, Pia, what’s going on?”

“Don’t be so suspicious, Mother. But something…well, I have some good news to tell you,” Pia said employing Joey Clements’s lesson of smiling while speaking on the phone. Hopefully her grin was filtering out the uneasiness from her voice.

“So tell me, sweetheart.”

“I’ll tell you when I see you.”

“Okay, sweetie. Good news is always worth waiting for. I’ll see you then.”

Pia hung up the phone well aware that in this case, one woman’s good news was another woman’s Lord, where did I fail? nightmare.