Chapter 4
SAGE
No. No, this isn’t happening.
I snatch up my phone, turning my back on the incriminating evidence on my bathroom counter, and open a search window.
Chance of multiple false positive pregnancy tests.
I’m a nurse. I’m also not an idiot. I know what the search results are going to say even before I hit Enter. I still have to do it.
Yeah…the chance of three separate tests all being wrong? Basically nonexistent. Which means I’m pregnant.
I glare down at my stomach. “Thanks for nothing, IUD.” Then my shoulders tense, and I lift a panicked hand to the area. “Shit.”
If I really am pregnant, I have to get my IUD removed.
That is, if I keep the pregnancy. Or maybe even if I don’t?
Crap, I don’t know. This feels like something I should know, but I definitely can’t remember right now.
Then another thought comes to me. What if this actually is just a crazy false positive because of my IUD?
Or maybe my IUD moved and is gonna tear a hole in my insides?
Oh God. Am I pregnant, or am I being stabbed internally by a contraceptive torture device?
Either way, I need to call a clinic and make an appointment to get the damn IUD removed.
And I guess having a doctor confirm if I am, in fact, pregnant would be a good idea. But how could I be? We used a condom! Fine, nothing’s perfect, but still. The chances of this being real…
Fuck. I’m probably pregnant.
Not even probably…most likely.
Nausea churns my gut, the same way it has for the last week.
Which is exactly why Marisol dragged me out last night to buy pregnancy tests on our way home from the hospital.
I tried to insist it was impossible. I mean, we used protection on top of my IUD.
But for whatever reason, I went along with her crazy idea and bought the damn tests.
If nothing else, I figured it would be a funny way to end my time in Manitoba before I fly to England next week. Laughing about the time I thought I got pregnant from a random one-night stand.
Ha ha, so funny. Joke’s on me, I guess.
This cannot be happening.
But as I lift my gaze to the three tests, all clearly showing I am absolutely pregnant, I’m forced to admit that it very much is happening.
And the father?
I don’t even know his last name.
I slide down the bathroom cabinet until I’m sitting on the cool tile floor, staring at the avocado green bathtub across from me. My mind is somehow both racing and completely frozen.
I have options, I know. I don’t have to let this derail everything. I can take care of this and still be on my flight next week, with no one needing to know anything. Except Marisol. She’s going to demand to know the results when I see her tonight at work.
I’m pro-choice. I fully respect a woman’s right to choose what happens with her own body. But now that I’m faced with making that decision, I’m freaking out and teetering full-on into yet another spiral.
Should I have an abortion? Do I want to end this pregnancy? Oh my God, do I not want to end this pregnancy? Could I have a baby? I can't believe this. What was always just an academic choice that I know other women have to make is now suddenly my choice to make.
And I have no clue how to make it.
My phone vibrates where it sits on my bathroom counter. I reach up and grab it, assuming it’s Marisol. Instead, I’m both shocked and relieved to see my best friend’s name on the screen.
I click the button to answer, and she immediately starts talking.
“Hey! I know, I know, you’re probably super busy packing, but I’m so freaking bummed I can’t come see you before you jet off to bonny England. So, I’ve decided to just call you as much as possible while we’re still on the same continent.”
“Fiona,” I manage to choke out, feeling tears building rapidly.
“Sage, what’s wrong?” Concern laces her tone.
“I’m pregnant.”
There’s silence for a second, broken only by my sniffle.
“And we feel…” Fiona says, asking the million-dollar question.
“I have no clue, I just found out. It’s definitely unexpected.” I let out a watery laugh. “I don’t even know his last name. It was a freaking one-night stand back in January. I have an IUD, and we used a condom. This shouldn’t have happened.”
“But it did,” she replies softly. “And maybe there’s a reason this happened when it shouldn’t have been possible.”
I nod, even though she can’t see me. “Yeah, but I can’t go to England if I’m pregnant, the agency won’t allow it. Insurance coverage and stuff.”
“Oh. Okay, well, you’ve got choices, babe. You don’t have to go through with the pregnancy, you know that. Can you delay your start in England at all?”
“Maybe by a week, but not any more than that.”
“Crap. Alright, I’ll call in sick at work and fly out to you. You don’t have to do this alone.”
“Don’t do that,” I sniff. “The whole reason you couldn’t come before I left was because of that big symposium you have. Don’t skip it.”
“Sage, you’re more important than a symposium.”
I swipe at the tears that are now flowing.
“Did you know I was the result of a one-night stand? Mom swore she never regretted keeping me, but fuck. I know how hard it was for her being a single mom. Do I want to go through that? I don’t know if I can do it.
” I dissolve into another sob as I think of my mom.
She’d know what to say, she’d tell me what to do.
God, I wish she was here.
I touch my tattoo as fresh tears soak the front of my shirt.
“Your mom was a freaking badass. She was the coolest mom in town, and she loved you fiercely. And I have no doubt that if you decide to do this, you’ll be exactly the same.” Fiona pauses, then continues. “Do you want to try and find the guy before you decide if you’re going to keep it?”
I try to wipe away more tears and fail. “I can’t wait that long. Who knows how long it’ll take to find him, and I’ve got to decide now. England, remember?” I blow out a sigh. “Besides, what if he turns out to be an asshole like my sperm donor?”
“Then you walk away,” Fiona says firmly.
My stomach gurgles, and my hand goes to it once again. There’s a baby in there. Okay, a collection of cells right now, but still.
I wonder what my mom felt when she was living through this moment. When she had to decide what to do about me. What made her choose to keep me?
“Remember when we were younger, we’d pretend that we were grown-ups, and our kids were growing up together?”
“Yeah,” I say, a shaky smile on my face. “You’d have a boy and I’d have a girl.”
“Ricky and Lucy.”
I laugh. “My God, why did we think those were good names?”
“Because my mother was obsessed with Lucille Ball and it’s all that was ever on the television at my house,” she replies.
“We can think of better names. Back then we also thought we were going to marry two of the Backstreet Boys. The point is, you have always wanted kids. Maybe this isn’t the way you thought it would happen, but since when do things ever happen the way we think they should? ”
“That is exactly why I hate making plans,” I say to Fiona, sniffing back the last of my tears. “Because every time I do, life comes along and throws a wrench in the works.”
“At least it’ll be a cute wrench,” Fiona says, sensing the direction I’m headed.
I choke out another chuckle. “Very cute.”
“And I’ll be their favourite auntie, of course.”
My smile comes easier now. “Of course.” I gulp down a steadying breath. “I have to try and find him, don’t I?”
“You don’t have to,” Fiona says cautiously. “Unless you want to be able to tell your child that you least tried to find their father.”
I’m already nodding even though she can’t see me.
“I do. Even if he is like my bio dad and wants nothing to do with the baby, at least I’ll have tried.
” I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry. “I don’t want my child to have to face life alone if anything happens to me.
I know I’ll be a great mom, even if I don’t find the father.
But a child deserves to have as many people in their life as possible to love and support them. ”
I reach up to touch my tattoo as my decision settles over me. I’m keeping this baby. I know it’s what my mom would want me to do, and it feels right the longer I think about it.
“But now I have to figure out how the heck I’m going to find the father.”
“Good thing we’ve got a few months to work on that.”
The thought of seeing Brady again doesn’t fill me with dread. No, if I’m being honest with myself, there’s a flutter of anticipation in my gut that I can’t blame on the nausea. I want to see him again. I’ve tried to deny it, assuming it was never going to happen.
And it still might never happen. But now I’ve got a reason to try.
My hand goes back to my stomach. “Okay, so I need to cancel my England contract and figure out where the heck I’m going to live.
Because I lose this apartment next week.
” My eyes widen. “Crap. I lose my apartment next week! And someone is buying my car from me this weekend, and I have no job. What the hell am I going to do?”
“We’ll work it out. Why don’t you come out here for a bit?
Stay with me and figure out your next steps.
I’m sure there’ll be work around here and you’ll love this part of Vancouver Island, it’s so freaking adorable.
” Fiona’s voice is soothing, or at least I assume she means it to be, but I might be too far gone for it to help.
Still, it’s not a bad idea. Having some company and a place to stay while I try to find Brady and figure out how to handle all of this would be good.
“Okay. Thanks, Fi. That would be amazing.” My eyes start to fill with tears again. “I’m really glad you called. I love you,” I say as the tears drip down my cheeks.
“Love you too, girl. Now, get off the phone, book a flight, and text me the details. Everything will be okay, I promise.”
The following week passes by in a whirlwind of nausea-filled chaos.
And then, I’m on the West Coast of Canada, waiting for Fiona to pick me up at the airport. The hug she gives me as soon as we see each other is exactly what I need.
Her couch, however, is not.
And after just one night on it, I know I can’t stay here long, because my back will hate me even more once my stomach starts to pop.
Discomfort and fatigue aside, I’m happy to be here, sitting next to my best friend, sipping coffee in my pajamas.
“One small cup of coffee a day is not going to be enough,” I say, frowning down at my cup that’s already halfway empty.
Fiona shrugs. “I think I’d miss wine more. The winery that’s just outside of town is so good. Once the nugget is here, we’ll have to go.”
I smile fondly at her nickname for the baby. “If I’m still in the area, then yes.”
She arches a brow at me. “Why wouldn’t you be? Don’t tell me you want to continue traveling all over the damn country while you’re pregnant. That’s insane, Sage. Stay here, where I’m around to help out, at least until the baby’s old enough to travel with you.”
Shifting forward, her hand lands on my knee. “I know you hate staying in one place for long. Hell, don’t think I’ve forgotten the time I tried to surprise you for your birthday by flying to Calgary, only to get there and find out you were on the road to Edmonton for a new job.”
“I paid you back for your flights,” I protest, even as my lips curve up, remembering that debacle.
“Not the point, bestie. Having a baby is going to mean changing how you live your life.”
I lean back against the couch with a sigh.
She’s right. This baby is going to change everything about how I’ve spent the last several years.
Something I’m not sure I’m ready for, even if I don’t exactly have a choice in the matter.
So, even if the idea of staying here long-term makes my skin itch, I’ll just have to get over that.
Being somewhere I have support throughout my pregnancy and the early days just makes sense.
“Okay, fine. But before you get too crazy about me staying here forever, can we focus on finding the baby daddy? I mean, if he lives in Nova Scotia, does it make sense for me to stay in BC long-term?”
“Fair enough.” Reaching for the coffee table, she picks up her laptop and opens to a social media platform. “Time to put my internet sleuthing skills to work. So you know his name is Brady, he knew some people in Manitoba, but he wasn’t staying in town long. Anything else?”
“He was hot as hell and fucked like a god,” I say, smirking.
“And used his godly powers to break through two strong forms of contraceptive to knock you up.”
We both laugh at that. I’m just glad I can laugh at the insane situation I’m in.
“Alright, focus. Your nugget needs us to focus. Oh, I know!” Fiona starts typing, and the next thing I know, she’s on the profile page of the bar where I met Brady.
Sitting up straight, I set my mug down. “Wait, that’s genius. Maybe there’s photos he’s tagged in from that night.”
But when we finally get to the posts around the date I met him, there’s nothing. I slump back against the couch. “So much for that.”
“Don’t give up so easily. What else can you remember?”
My shoulders lift and then fall. “He had kind eyes and he made me feel safe. I think he was young, probably mid-twenties, like us. But he had an old soul. Oh, and he said something about having younger twin siblings.”
Fiona blinks at me slowly. “So, should I search for Brady with kind eyes, an old soul, and twin siblings?”
Grabbing a throw pillow, I hit her with it. “Obviously not, but what do you want me to say? It was a one-night stand. We didn’t exchange last names or phone numbers on purpose. Your internet sleuthing is not going to work.”
Leaning back next to me, Fiona sighs. “Okay, okay. I’ll think of something else.”
Much to my annoyance, my eyes start to burn with tears. I swear, pregnancy hormones are wild. “Don’t bother. It’s pointless.” A ragged laugh escapes me. “God, did we really think we’d be able to find him so easily? This is why making plans is so ridiculous. They never work out.”
“Sage, no, don’t think like that, you can’t give up so easily.”
Then my stomach lets out an embarrassingly loud gurgle. I huff out a half-hearted laugh. “Okay, baby’s hungry. Can I take you out for breakfast to thank you for always being there for me and for trying to find my needle-in-a-haystack baby daddy?”
“Absolutely. Food helps my sleuthing skills, and I know just where to go.”