Chapter 17
Seventeen
Whoever had made the comment at the beginning of group about the food being the only part that wasn’t a waste of time had been right.
The whole thing was a joke. As if determined to brainwash us, Destiny put all her energy into twisting every comment to make it seem like The Fertility Act was the best thing to ever happen to any of us.
“Look how much the Department of Fertility has given us!” she exclaimed. “Food, support, excellent medical care, and money once our commitment is up.”
She gushed about the neighborhood she and her husband had just moved to, commenting on the childcare and doctors who made house calls, as well as a dozen other perks. It was like watching a commercial for the Department of Fertility, and it made me sick.
Few people other than Destiny spoke during the meeting, and everyone with the exception of Bette seemed determined to eat as much as they could while the group leader droned on about the miracle that was The Fertility Act.
Seriously, she acted like the law had fixed things even though the population had decreased even more since it was passed, and fertility rates hadn’t changed at all.
I was so relieved when the hour was up that I practically ran to the elevator, but to my disappointment, the door didn’t open the second I pressed the button, and I was forced to wait with the other women in the group.
Since I didn’t want company, I wasn’t too jazzed about the idea of riding to the lobby with them, but at least Destiny was too busy overseeing the cleanup to join us.
I couldn’t listen to her rave about The Fertility Act a second longer.
Thankfully, the wait for the elevator was short, and after only a few seconds, a ding sounded, and the door slid open.
Malika elbowed me as the six of us piled into the elevator. “Way to tell Destiny what’s up today.”
“Thanks,” I said, flushing under this stranger’s praise. “You were pretty badass yourself.”
“I refuse to let that woman get away with her bullshit,” was the response.
“Like it did any good,” Ginger muttered as the door slid closed.
The elevator lurched then slowly began to descend.
“It never does, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to sit there and listen to her lies.” Malika gave a snort of derision. “She’s seriously messed up in the head and actually believes all the stuff she’s spouting.”
“Of course, she believes it,” Lilly grumbled.
“I don’t know,” Ivy said in a timid voice. “Maybe she’s doing it for the money? I mean, it’s a lot of money.”
“Not enough to make me sell myself,” Malika muttered.
Ivy flushed and looked down.
Everyone had joined in the conversation except Bette, who stood at the back of the group, her hand making slow circles on her stomach while she listened to the others talk, a placid expression on her face that made it impossible to guess what she thought about the situation.
Unlike the others, who wore their emotions like a suit of armor.
Ivy, it was clear, was ashamed that she’d volunteered, and she felt like she was letting other women down but was also determined to get through this with as much of herself intact as possible.
Lilly was defiant but relieved to be nearing the end so she could return to her normal life.
Ginger was vehemently hoping the program didn’t work and she would never be forced to carry a baby she hadn’t asked for.
Malika was so defiant it bordered on violent.
I understood all their emotions, and got where they were coming from, but not Bette.
No, she was a mystery. In group, she’d said she was excited about the baby, and she clearly was, but I’d seen a flash of anger in her eyes more than once, and she’d obviously agreed with my rant.
The two things didn’t really contradict one another – it was possible for her to be happy for herself and feel bad for those of us in this against our will – but I couldn’t help thinking there was more to her story. Although what, I didn’t have a clue.
The elevator ride to the first floor was short, and the second the door had slid open, we spilled into the lobby. Lilly and Ivy murmured quiet goodbyes as they headed for the exit, while Ginger practically ran, and Bette hung back as if wanting to talk to me.
Before following the others, Malika smiled, gave a jerk of her chin, and said, “See you next month, newbie.”
“Next month,” I replied, involuntarily smiling in return.
It melted away as she headed off, whistling quietly while her fingers flew across her phone’s screen. By next month, I could be pregnant. I had no idea how to feel about that.
“Good group?” the soldier I now knew was named Ramirez asked.
I’d been so focused on myself that I hadn’t even noticed him standing there but looked his way now. He grinned and winked, and like earlier, I was suddenly flustered. Which never happened to me.
“The food was good,” Bette replied, as pleasant as always.
“At least you had that,” Ramirez said, grinning. “Have a good night, ladies, and be safe.”
Bette returned his smile, but I ignored him. I didn’t know what his deal was, but I had way too much on my plate to bother with a man. Especially one who worked for the Department of Fertility.
Bette and I were walking side by side, heading for the front door, when she turned to me, “We really should do lunch some time.”
“Maybe,” I replied, then when her face fell, quickly added, “If I can find the time. I mean, I work during the week and my weekends are pretty busy right now.”
It wasn’t true unless hanging out with Trevor counted as busy, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted to commit to spending time with her.
She seemed nice enough, and despite my initial violent reaction to seeing her round stomach and excited expression, I didn’t bear her any ill will for being in the program.
That didn’t make the idea of hanging out with her appealing, though.
I just couldn’t help thinking that being with her would be like giving more of my time to the program, and I didn’t want that.
The less time I had to think or talk about The Fertility Act, the better.
Bette and I reached the front door, which I held open for her. She smiled as she stepped out, and I followed, letting it shut behind us. Apparently not finished with our talk, Bette paused, and I did as well.
The sky was nearly dark now, and what had been a warm day had cooled off significantly. The air was chilly and thick with the scent of freshly cut grass. A cool breeze swept across the parking lot, rustling the surrounding trees and causing goose bumps to pop up on my arms.
I hugged myself against the cold, my eyes darting to my car, and as if noticing it, Bette said, “I could give you my number if you want. That way if you find some free time and want to get together, you can text me?”
The last sentence came out as a question, making her look vulnerable and so young I was unable to stop myself from pulling my phone from my pocket, unlocking the screen, and saying, “What’s your number?”
Bette beamed as she rattled off the numbers, which I typed into a new text. Once I had, I typed the words This is Ara and hit send. Bette’s phone dinged.
She was grinning when she looked at the screen. “I got it!”
“Good.” I rubbed my chilly arms when another breeze blew. “I’ll text you if I have some free time.”
“Sounds good,” she replied enthusiastically.
Again, I glanced toward my car. “I should probably get going. I have some stuff to do at home before I turn in for the night.”
“Me too.” Bette waved her phone. “Looking forward to your text!”
“Yeah,” I said, then turned and jogged toward my car.
I had zero intention of ever getting together with Bette. It wasn’t personal. It was just that I couldn’t look at her without thinking about my own situation, and that didn’t seem like it would make for a fun time. The opposite, really.
After the support group, it came as no surprise that my required monthly counseling session two days later was a total joke. Seriously, the people working for this program did not know how to play it cool.
I’d ducked out of work an hour early and walked the five blocks to the Health Department building, excited to get the whole thing over with.
It was Friday, and I had plans with Trevor later that evening, which I was looking forward to even though he was adding the new guy, Owen, to the mix for the first time.
They’d gone out twice, and despite the lack of meat, Trevor had been optimistic at the end of both dates but said he couldn’t even think about it becoming anything serious until I gave my official stamp of approval. Typical Trevor.
The security guard, Vera, was once again checking IDs when I reached the lobby, and Ramirez was on duty as usual. Seriously, was he the only soldier assigned to the building? I ignored him even though he was outright staring at me.
Once on the third floor, I was greeted by the same fake blonde, sat in the same overstuffed chair, and stared at the same too-big fish tank while I waited.
When the frosted glass door opened, I stiffened, not relaxing even a tiny bit when a smiling woman in her thirties stepped out and said, “Arabella Murphy?”
Why did they always voice it as a question when I was usually the only person in the lobby?
“Ara,” I said as I got to my feet.
“Ara!” Her excitement was over the top. “Why don’t you follow me?”
The woman led me through the corridors to the same consultation room Hilary and I had met in my first day and waved to one of the chairs.
I studied her as she pulled the door closed, taking in her toned body, long dark hair, too blue eyes, and totally fake rack.
She didn’t look like a counselor, more like a Pilates instructor who drank soy protein shakes every morning and meditated at night before she went to bed.