Chapter 10
N atalie
Mid-October
I’ve done some pretty embarrassing things in my life.
Dance barefoot on a dirty bar in New Orleans? Yup.
Gotten in a car with a guy I didn’t know? Guilty.
Basically stalked a boy I liked in college who literally didn’t know I existed, and then got caught outside his fraternity with binoculars? Possibly.
So I’m not too surprised that I’m adding a new item to my list: barf into a trash can in front of your best friend’s brother, who also happens to be your only sex in the past few months.
And an even worse detail is that I’m pretty sure I’m puking because said best friend’s brother knocked me up.
My period is two weeks late. Actually, I’m not sure how late it is. My period has as big of a personality as me, and has never been very regular. But if I didn’t know it was late, I’d be concerned with the other symptoms: my boobs are sore as hell and a half-cup size bigger than normal, I cried watching a TikTok video this morning while eating breakfast, and I snapped at my principal as I ran from the teacher’s lounge when I caught a whiff of the catered lunch and thought I was going to hurl all over the floor.
Today quite literally blows.
Since this is a small town, and gossip here runs rampant, I ordered pregnancy tests online. I hate that I had to stoop to that, but I’ve barely wrapped my own head around this predicament, and I certainly don’t want others to be chatting about it. If I am pregnant, I need time to figure out how to tell everyone. Especially Alex. I know he’s going to hate me, and I don’t know how to start off a co-parenting relationship with that attitude.
Knowing the tests have arrived at my apartment, I’m anxious to get home. But I’m also insanely nervous about taking a test, and I wish I could tell any of my friends about it. But again, Alex needs to be the first to know, and I’m not sure the girls wouldn’t tell their husbands.
As I’m debating on texting Claire to see if she’d like to chat, my phone rings. Lo and behold, it’s Claire. Answering the call, I say, “Were your ears ringing? I was just thinking about calling you.”
“Huh,” she says. “It’s odd, because I got this weird premonition that I needed to call you.”
“Really?” I ask as I climb into my car.
“Yeah. You okay?”
“I’m not sure,” I admit. “Can I call you when I get home? Conferences just ended for the day.”
“I’m actually in Eternity. Have you eaten dinner? I can grab something.”
My stomach revolts at the thought of food, and I swallow harshly. “I’m not hungry. It was a long day, and all I really want to eat is cereal.”
“I have days like that too,” she laughs. “I survive off cereal and microwavable meals in March and April.” Claire is an accountant, and due to the tax deadline of April fifteenth, she’s incredibly busy and stressed for the weeks leading up to it.
“I’ll be home in a couple minutes,” I tell her.
“I’m here already. Should I be concerned that there’s a three-pack of pregnancy tests with your name on them by the building door?”
I feel the blood drain from my face. A couple years ago, Colorado did away with plastic bags, and clearly in my barfing stupor, I forgot about that. “They didn’t come in a box? Fucking Instacart! I didn’t think about the bag thing here. Oh my God! Anyone could have seen them! ”
“At least now I know why I felt the need to call you,” she says quietly. “I didn’t realize you were seeing someone. Unless it’s Rob’s?”
“It is definitely not Rob’s, and I’m not seeing someone,” I state miserably. “It was a one-time thing.”
Claire hums noncommittally as I drive home. We’re quiet for a few moments before I pull in next to the small building where my apartment is. I see she’s holding the boxes, carefully covering as much surface as possible, but I can tell they appear to be shrink-wrapped together, as if it was a set of three from the back of a store that hadn’t been processed yet. We don’t speak as she follows me upstairs to my apartment.
“Where do you think your shopper got these? You’d think they’d just charge you the ten cents for a bag. Must have been a male shopper. They wouldn’t think about that kind of thing,” Claire whispers when I unlock the door. “How long have they been out here?”
“A couple hours, I think. I didn’t check what time I got the delivery notification.” Throwing my keys on a shelf by the door, I toe off my shoes and quickly stuff my feet in my fluffy slippers. My studio apartment is tiny, and I mostly sit on my bed, but I’ve always loved wearing slippers. They make me happy, even in this minuscule room.
“Alright. Spill. Who’s the guy?” Claire asks as she pulls off her coat, folding it perfectly, and places it on the back of a chair.
I sigh as I think of how to answer her. “I hate to put you in this position, but I have to ask you not to tell anyone what I’m about to tell you. No one, Claire.”
“No one?” she whispers, her eyes wide. “Not even the girls?”
“Especially not the girls.” I sit heavily on the bed, staring down at my slippers. “Do you remember me telling you about the night when Rob followed me to that hole-in-the-wall bar, and how someone saved me?”
Claire nods. “You never told us who. Just a guy.”
“That’s because it was Alex that saved me.”
“Alex?” Claire inquires. “Alex Santo?”
I nod. “I never told anyone.”
“Why? ”
“Because I kissed him that night. And he kissed me back,” I confess.
“Okay,” Claire drawls out. “Listen, I know it’s been a hot minute since you had sex, but you do know kissing doesn’t get you pregnant, right?”
I roll my eyes. “I know that, dork. But I ran into Alex again a month or so ago. We were both at the Eternity Springs community night, then ended up having dinner at the same diner. One thing led to another, and —”
“Holy shit!” Claire shouts. “You’re knocked up by Alex Santo!”
“A little louder, Claire. I don’t think the residents of Denver heard you,” I remark dryly. Claire is almost always soft spoken. She carries herself with grace and dignity. It’s always a shock when she gets loud and rambunctious.
“No wonder you don’t want to tell anyone else. This will get back to Alex so freaking fast.”
“I’m not even sure if I’m pregnant.”
“You’re totally knocked up, Nat. Your boobs are enormous. Well, they’re bigger than I’ve ever seen. I’ve always been jealous of yours, since I’m basically a minus A cup.”
“Thanks, I guess?” I laugh. “And yours aren’t minus. Last time I checked, you weren’t concave.”
“Just speaking the truth. Now go pee on the stick so we can plan a course of action.” Claire rips open the shrink wrap, grabs a box, and tosses it to me.
In the bathroom, I painstakingly read the directions, as if I’ve never taken a pregnancy test before. I’ve definitely had scares. But this feels different, and I find myself dragging my feet to take the test, knowing my world is most likely going to change dramatically in the next few minutes.
Once done, I slip the test back into the box, wash my hands, and return to my bed. I don’t speak, choosing instead to numbly stare at a spot on the wall across from where Claire sits.
“We’ve never talked about our views on pregnancy before,” Claire comments. “Are you pro-life, or pro-choice? ”
“I believe every woman should be allowed to choose what happens to their own bodies. As for me personally, I’m pro-life. I know I couldn’t abort my baby.”
Claire nods in agreement. “That’s how I feel, too. I’d hate to be forced into something by someone who has no reason to be interfering in my medical care.”
When I don’t respond, she continues.
“Furthermore, no man should make decisions about a woman’s body unless we can make decisions about him. Why aren’t all men given a vasectomy when they hit puberty? Those suckers are reversible, so when he’s in a committed relationship and wants to try to conceive, it’s an easy fix. A woman can’t get pregnant if the man is shooting blanks.”
“That’s a very interesting theory,” I respond, my lips twitching up in amusement. “I have no doubt our government, run mostly by close-minded geriatric males, will totally be on board with your suggestion.”
She shrugs as her watch makes a sound. “It kept your mind off waiting for the test, so it’s all good. It’s been three minutes.”
I stare at the box in my hands, suddenly feeling like it’s a ticking bomb. “I don’t think I can look at it.”
Claire stands, coming to sit next to me on the bed. Placing an arm gently around my shoulders, she squeezes reassuringly. “One step at a time, Nat. If it’s positive, we’ll figure out a plan. You’re not alone, okay?”
I nod as my eyes fill with tears. “I — I think I want it to be positive. Not because I want to trap Alex. I figured kids wouldn’t be in the cards for me, and now that it might be, I’m afraid of seeing a negative test result.”
“Why do you think it wouldn’t be in the cards for you?”
I shrug, sniffing as I wipe a lone tear from my cheek. “Rob really wasn’t interested in kids, and I think he might have convinced me to be the same way. At the beginning of our relationship, I was happy with him, and I figured I have my students, and they’d be enough. But then watching Hannah and Arianna both have babies made me start thinking about it. I know the older a woman is, the harder it is to get pregnant, so I guess I thought I might be running out of time.”
“Look at the test, Nat. Rip off the Band-Aid.”
I shakily pull out the test, screen side down, and flip it over, but my eyes are on Claire. “You tell me what it says. I can’t look.”
I watch as Claire inhales a gasp, and her eyes glaze over. “You’re gonna be a momma, Nat. You’re gonna be the best momma.”
I whip my eyes down to see the word “pregnant” on the digital test, and immediately begin to cry. “Oh my God.”
“Who are you telling first? Alex or Arianna?”
I let out a shaky laugh. “Alex, obviously. Plus I’m scared to tell Ari.”
“I would be too.”
I’m going to be a mom. Cradling my soft stomach, I’m suddenly overcome with maternal protectiveness. I’ll make sure this little nugget is happy, even if his or her father isn’t involved.