Chapter 20 #2
My days progressed like that over the next couple weeks.
Usually, I woke feeling horrible. I often I spent the first hour after getting out of bed hugging the toilet, and I was late to work more often than I liked.
Teresa talked to Bruce, so he didn’t ask about my tardiness again after that first day, but he did watch me with a suspicious expression.
Even on days when I wasn’t late, he seemed to be keeping tabs on me, making me wonder if he knew what was going on.
If so, what did the look in his eyes mean?
Was he one of the people who supported The Fertility Act, or did he think it was a violation?
I couldn’t imagine he would be the latter.
He seemed like too much of a man’s man for that, but his expression and the way he watched me was so confusing. So ambiguous.
The support group was usually on the first Wednesday of every month, but since the next one happened to fall on the Fourth of July, I had a slight reprieve from having to see Destiny and the other women in the program and letting them know my insemination had been successful.
Although not much of one since the group had been moved to the following week, but enough that I was grateful anyway.
I spent the holiday at Trevor’s house, nursing a mocktail while friends and acquaintances ate, swam, and got plastered.
Other than Trevor’s main squeeze, I was the only sober person there, but that was only because Owen was a health nut.
Seriously. He’d brought his own vegan burger, which had made me rush to the toilet after one brief glance at it on the grill.
I blamed the gray, unappealing pallor and not the life growing inside me for that one.
By the time the fireworks started, I was ready to head home. As if being one of two sober people at a party wasn’t bad enough, every smell made me want to vomit, and I was over it. Owen, however, had other plans.
He plopped down on the couch next to me as, outside, Trevor’s guests hooted and hollered as red and blue lights crackled, lighting up the black sky. “Hey.”
“Hey yourself,” I said, then took a sip of water.
He eyed me for a second longer than was comfortable, and I braced myself for a comment about the program or my condition. I hadn’t told anyone except Trevor and Teresa – and Vera the day I got the positive results – but knew Owen was aware I was pregnant. No way Trevor wouldn’t have told him.
“You don’t look like you’re having much fun,” Owen finally said.
Even though I was relieved he hadn’t brought up my pregnancy, I didn’t relax because I wasn’t sure if I was out of the woods yet. I did think I could steer him away from the topic if I tried, though.
“I never realized how tedious being around drunk people could be when you can’t partake.” I waved to the wide-open French doors, which lead to the patio area and pool as well as the very inebriated guests. “Do you think we all look that stupid when we’re drunk, or is it just them?”
Owen smiled. “Just them for sure. I mean, I know I am nothing if not classy when I’m drinking, and while I haven’t seen you drunk,” he lifted his brows to let me know he wasn’t going to mention why that was, “I imagine you are very put together and articulate.”
“The most articulate,” I said, laughing and clinking my water glass against his.
I took a big gulp then set the glass on the table before saying, “Why aren’t you drinking, by the way?”
“Trevor didn’t mention that I’m training for a marathon?”
I belted out a laugh. “He did not.”
“What’s so funny?” Owen asked, his own face stretched in a grin.
“Just that Trevor is dating someone who’s into marathons. I mean, you do know the guy has probably never even run a mile, right? I’ve actually heard him say that if a zombie apocalypse happens, he’s going to throw himself at a horde, so he doesn’t have to run.”
It was Owen’s turn to laugh. “I’m well aware of his aversion to physical exertion, and while I hope to rub off on him a little, I think it’s cute.”
“Of course, you do,” I said. “You’re at the annoying part of a relationship when everything the other person does is cute. Don’t worry, it will wear off.”
Owen glanced at the doors again, and I could tell when he spotted Trevor – who was currently chugging a beer – because his smile softened. “I don’t know if it will.”
“Wow. So, you’re like really serious, aren’t you?”
He returned his attention to me. “I think I am.”
“Well, cheers to that.” I swiped up my glass and clinked it against his once again. After we’d both taken a drink, I said, “And I’m happy for you both. I haven’t seen Trevor this happy in a long time.”
Owen’s smile turned bashful. “Not to sound corny, but he’s not the only one who hasn’t been this happy in a long time.”
We lapsed into silence that wasn’t at all quiet since the party was still going full force outside.
Cheers and laughter and talking floated in from the open door, accompanied by the boom of fireworks.
I watched it play out for a few minutes, taking in the scene that was both familiar and oddly foreign, which was strange because Trevor had this party every Fourth of July and I always came.
At first, I attributed the feeling to the fact that for the first time, I wasn’t drinking, but as I took in the group, I realized it was something else entirely.
It was how many people were here, or how few, really.
“There’s usually a bigger crowd than this,” I said, nodding to the partygoers.
“Trevor said a lot of the usual people backed out because of the virus. They’re afraid it’s a new pandemic.”
I shifted my attention to Owen. “The virus?”
He gave me an incredulous look. “Haven’t you been paying attention to the news? It’s all over Europe and Asia and is projected to show up in the US any day. They’re calling it RNA-67.”
“Shit.” I wanted to kick myself for being so absorbed with my problems that I’d missed such a huge thing. “I remember hearing about it weeks ago, but I haven’t been keeping up with it. I’ve been too distracted, I guess.”
Owen’s expression softened yet again. “You have a good reason for that.”
“Yeah, I guess,” I muttered, feeling shaken by the news.
It wasn’t a surprise. The world had been holding its breath for a while now as it waited for another pandemic to creep up, and it wasn’t the first one I’d lived through, but with everything going on in my personal life, RNA-67 felt more ominous than any of the other pandemics I’d faced. Although I wasn’t sure why that was.
The month of July flew by. Between trying to get through work with morning sickness and extreme fatigue and keeping up with my obligations to the program, like the support group – where I once again dodged Bette’s lunch invitation – and individual counseling, I was swamped.
So busy that I didn’t even realize I’d reached ten weeks until my wristband dinged at eight o’clock that morning.
I glared at the little fucker, wishing I could rip it off, and swore.
The last thing I wanted to do today was see Hilary, but it was, unfortunately, unavoidable.
Since I wanted to get the whole thing over with, I went to the clinic before heading to work.
Thankfully, I’d let Teresa know I was going to be late weeks ago but had no plans to skip the entire day.
Why would I? If the morning vomiting and exhaustion couldn’t keep me away, bloodwork and an ultrasound wouldn’t either.
Vera was her typical sympathetic self when she checked my ID while the other security guards acted like they wanted to be anywhere but there, and Ramirez, as usual, couldn’t hold in his smirk when he saw me.
“How you doing this morning, Ara?” he asked as I waited for the elevator.
“As thrilled as always to be in your presence, Corporal Ramirez,” I replied in an overly sarcastic tone.
His grin stretched wider. “The pleasure is all mine, believe me.”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help smiling. If nothing else, he was a welcome distraction from all the awful people I had to deal with.
A ding sounded and the door opened, and I waved to the elevator. “This is my ride.”
“Have a good one,” he called as I stepped in.
Department of Fertility Barbie was at the desk when I exited the elevator on the third floor, and she brightened at the sight of me.
“Miss Murphy!” She clapped her hands excitedly the way teenagers did when they found out their friend’s crush liked them back, which contrasted so much with her age I almost laughed. “What a happy day! An ultrasound! Are you excited?”
Bette had stepped through the frosted glass door at that exact moment, and now stood frozen in the waiting room.
I seethed at the sight of her. It was annoying enough that I was forced to go through this and that my medical history belonged to the government now, but did this woman have to announce everything to the waiting room?
The other times the receptionist annoyed me, I’d kept my mouth shut, but being hormonal meant I was unable to control myself this time.
“Listen,” I said, my tone icy and firm, “I get this isn’t exactly private and that everyone knows why I’m here, but if you could refrain from sharing my medical information with the waiting room, that would be nice. Despite the circumstances, I feel like I’m still entitled to a smidgen of privacy.”
Department of Fertility Barbie flushed and sat back, all the excitement melting from her countenance. “Yes. Of course. I didn’t really think about it like that. I mean, women are usually excited to see their baby.”
“This,” I waved to my stomach, “isn’t my baby. I don’t even know who the father is. You get that, right? I mean, I had no say in any of this. I’m here against my will. So, no, I do not want to announce to the world that I’m about to see the baby the government put in my body.”