Chapter 6
CHAPTER
MAX HELD THE door open for me as we entered the clinic’s lobby, where my mom was already waiting.
“Hi, Mom!” I gave her a big hug. “Mom, this is Max.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Mitchell.” He shook her hand.
“It’s actually Woods,” she corrected him, smiling sweetly. “Mitchell was Savannah’s father’s name. But you can call me Shelley.”
It was a little nerve-racking, Max meeting my mom. But it was inevitable, I supposed. Through this child, we were all linked together for life.
Mom had been thrilled when I shared the news of my surprise pregnancy. Her blind optimism was hard to swallow sometimes—particularly after the heartbreak I’d lived through recently—but she never failed to make me feel supported and loved.
Like everyone else I was close to who knew about my hopes of starting a family with Jason, Mom’s first question at my news had been, “Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted?
” No one seemed to understand that it was what I’d wanted with Jason.
It wasn’t just about the baby—it was about starting a family with the man I loved.
Creating the perfect blend of half him, half me.
I guess that was one of the hardest parts of this sudden surprise to get used to—when Jason had left, I’d given up on the idea of having a child; convinced myself I hadn’t really wanted it anyway.
But lately, I’d come to realize that had just been a defense mechanism—a way of dealing with Jason’s rejection.
Now that I’d been handed this unexpected gift, I was learning how to love the idea all over again.
At least Mom seemed to understand my desire for Max’s involvement. Neither of us had said it outright, but I think we both saw the potential for some kind of redemption—like, maybe my dad hadn’t cared about me, but if Max cared, our child would have a chance at the fatherly love I’d missed out on.
A nurse called my name. In the exam room, I changed into a hospital gown and gave my usual blood and urine samples. Then Mom and Max joined me, along with Dr. Quinlan. I introduced her to Max and she asked me to raise my gown a bit so she could feel my belly. I avoided Max’s eyes.
“How have you been feeling, Savannah? I know a few weeks ago you were experiencing a lot of unpleasant symptoms.”
“Yes, there were a few weeks there where I was feeling sick and exhausted constantly. My chest is still pretty sore. But I’m feeling much better now. This last week has actually been okay.” I glanced at Max. He was listening intently.
“Good, good. That’s all good news. I know many women get concerned if they experience a lot of discomfort in the first trimester, but it’s actually a good sign—it means your hormone levels are high, which means your baby is strong.”
“Really?” I was surprised at the relief in my voice. I hadn’t realized I’d been concerned, but just hearing the doctor’s reassuring words was triggering unexpected emotions.
“Yes. All your test results will be uploaded to the patient portal in the next few days, but everything is looking really good so far.” She squeezed my hand for a moment. Mom beamed at me. “Now, shall we listen to your baby’s heartbeat?”
Max’s eyes widened.
“Yes, we’d love to.” I smiled.
I raised my gown again as the doctor moved the doppler device around on my lower stomach. For the first time, I noticed that my shape had definitely changed; my stomach had a slight, rounded slope around my navel.
I was starting to show.
My body’s making room for baby. A happy tear slid down my face and into the crook of my neck as I looked down at my belly. It wasn’t happening with Jason, but right now, that didn’t seem to matter quite as much.
A strange sound filled the room—similar to a skipping record, but very fast. I watched Max as he covered his mouth in disbelief.
“Listen to that heartbeat!” Dr. Quinlan smiled.
“Everything sounds fantastic—nice and strong.” She looked back and forth between me and Max.
Our eyes met and we gave each other a tiny smile.
Then I quickly averted my eyes as I felt myself getting shy at the profound intimacy of the moment.
“You should be very happy, Savannah.” She removed the doppler and handed me tissues to wipe the goo off my belly.
“Let’s set up your next appointment, for an ultrasound, anywhere between eighteen and twenty weeks.
In the meantime, just message me if you have any questions or concerns. ”
“Thank you.” I sat up.
Mom stepped forward and put her hand on Max’s arm. “Why don’t we give Savannah some privacy now so she can get dressed.”
He threw me a smile as they exited the room.
Max pulled his car up to the curb outside my office and came around to open the door for me.
Before I could thank him, he pulled me into a tight hug.
I could smell his shampoo and aftershave.
I blushed as I realized how much I liked the scent of him.
Memories of the few nights we’d spent together flitted through my mind, unbidden.
“Thank you so much for inviting me today. It really means a lot.” He gave me an intense look. “This is getting so real.”
“I know what you mean. And I’m really glad you came today, Max.”
He glanced up at my office building. “So, do your coworkers know yet?”
I sighed. “No … I’ve been trying to avoid telling them for as long as I can.
I just got put on this new client project and there’s a chance I could be named account manager, which would mean a raise, which I could really use to help with the baby.
I’m afraid that being pregnant would be a mark against me. ”
“How much longer do you think you’ll be able to hide it?”
I laughed. “Probably not much longer—it was kind of obvious in the doctor’s office today that my stomach is starting to grow.” It was true—as of now my pants fit, but they were starting to feel tight.
Max looked down at my waist as I said that, then blushed and looked away, running a hand through his hair.
“Well, I’ll let you get back to work then. Talk to you soon?”
“Definitely.”
The following week, I was getting dressed for work—or trying to, anyway—when I realized my pants simply would not button. I struggled out of them and threw them on the floor in frustration. I threw myself back on my bed and stared up at the ceiling.
The time had finally come. I was going to have to buy some maternity clothes.
I’d been dreading this day, and not just for the price tag that was bound to come with it. This milestone meant that soon, people were going to figure it out. People like my coworkers, my neighbors, my extended friend circle.
What am I going to tell everyone? The truth? That I had a lukewarm fling with a guy I met at a bar, and now I’m having his baby? And no, we’re aren’t going to be together, because he decided to get back together with his ex?
It was obviously not Jason’s baby, since we’d been broken up for more than a year, and I couldn’t invent some serious boyfriend that didn’t exist. The truth really was the only plausible explanation.
I looked through the rest of my closet and found an old, stretchy knit dress from college. It would have to do for now—I needed to get to work.
That afternoon, I got a text from Ellie.
Hey, lady, I finally have a night off! Ready for Handmaid’s Tale?
I replied: New idea—how about shopping? I can’t fit into any of my clothes anymore! I sent a crying emoji.
Absolutely!
Great! Meet me here at the office at 5:30? I found a cute looking shop at Van Ness and 17th we can check out.
Twenty minutes later, Ellie and I were browsing the racks at a maternity boutique. I really had no idea where to begin. My current leggings and sweats were fine for the weekends—I mostly needed stuff for work.
Ellie’s sister had had a baby the year before, and she’d offered Ellie some advice to pass along—focus on staples.
I picked out a pair of dressy slacks with a stretchy waistband and faux buttons and zippers—some of those in different shades would be good.
Ellie nabbed a few flowy blouses that would help hide my growing stomach.
Next, we looked at stretchy sundresses, since summer was coming and it was going to start getting hot—but we both knew to watch out for the crazy San Francisco winds that popped up any time of year, so we also added a few cardigans to our pile.
Finally, we grabbed one pair each of maternity jeans and shorts.
“Well, I’m not sure my bank account can take much more, so this is probably a good place to stop,” I said.
“I think you have some good variety here. You can mix and match and have plenty of different outfits for work,” Ellie agreed.
After I tried everything on, Ellie helped me carry my pile to the checkout counter.
I grimaced when the saleswoman announced my total, but I didn’t feel like I had much choice—I couldn’t walk out my door naked, now, could I?
I inserted my card into the chip reader and tapped my fingers against the counter as we waited for it to process.
Suddenly, the machine gave an angry beep.
“Sorry,” the woman said. “Mind trying again?”
I removed and then reinserted my card, but the unpleasant buzzer sounded again.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but your card has been declined.”
I frowned. “Declined?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry, but can you please try it one more time?” I asked.
She gave me a strained smile. “Sure. Why don’t I type in the number this time, in case it’s a problem with the chip.” She typed quickly. Then, “Nope. Still declining.” She handed my card back and glanced at the shopping bags piled high with clothes. Heat filled my face.
“I’m sorry, let me log in to my account and try to figure this out,” I said, stepping to the side. “Just a minute.”
The woman moved my bags off to the side and greeted the next customer in line as I opened my credit card app and logged in.
A cold sweat broke out all over my body when I caught sight of my balance.
A few days before, it had been about three hundred dollars, but now I was staring at a number that was well over eight thousand.
“Everything okay?” whispered Ellie.
“Wha … how …” I felt lightheaded. “What the hell?” I nearly dropped my phone as my hands started shaking.
“What is it?” Ellie asked, concern painting her face.
“There’s no way I’ve spent this much money in the last few days—or ever.” I held the phone out for Ellie.
Her eyes went wide as she saw the figure.
“Let’s check your recent transactions.” I watched as she tapped and scrolled a bit—then her jaw fell open.
“Holy crap! In the past week you have charges from a liquor store, a strip club, an adult toy store, and a marijuana dispensary.” She handed my phone back.
“Honey, I think your credit card number has been stolen.”
“Oh my God … oh my God. What am I going to do?” My hands were shaking even more.
“Don’t worry, Savvy, we can figure this out.” She led me to a plush bench near the fitting rooms. “You stay here.”
Ellie got back in line. My heart pounded in my chest as I watched her pay for my clothes. A few minutes later, she came back with the shopping bags.
“Ellie, you didn’t have to do that,” I said weakly.
“Well, you need maternity clothes. We’ll get this all sorted out with your bank and you can pay me back.” She smiled. “Now, let’s go get some dinner. I’m starving, and I’m sure you and your little peanut are too.”
After grabbing some dinner at a restaurant nearby—which Ellie also paid for—she called me an Uber home so I wouldn’t have to walk twelve blocks by myself in the dark with all my shopping bags.
While we’d been waiting for our food, I’d called my credit card company.
The representative froze my account for the time being, and advised me to log in and dispute each charge I didn’t recognize.
They would investigate each one, and usually the charges would be reversed while that was happening.
A new card would be on its way to me in the mail.
It was nearly nine o’clock by the time my Uber dropped me off outside my building. As I lugged my things up the front steps, something across the street caught my eye.
A figure dressed all in black with their hood up and dark glasses on—despite the late hour—was leaning against a pole, hands in pockets.
It was hard to tell beneath the glasses, but it sure felt as if the person was watching me.
It appeared to be a woman. As I stared back at her, she took her phone out of her pocket and tapped on the screen.
As I unlocked the door to the lobby, the woman slipped the phone back into her pocket and took off walking down the street.
I felt my pulse quickening. Was that woman watching me?
Stop being paranoid, I told myself as I fished my keys out of my purse.
But I definitely checked that my door was locked before turning in that night.
Twice.