Chapter 17 #2
“What was that?” Jess calls. “My ears are burning.”
“Then put on a hat,” I yell back. “Hey, do you have a Band-Aid?”
“Blister?”
I nod, reaching down to tug my shoe off. I guess we don’t all have perfect feet. Jess moves farther away as Louise digs inside her backpack and for a moment we’re completely alone, just the two of us on the side of the mountain.
“This reminds me,” she says, pulling out the first aid kit. “If you’re here for a few more weeks, you should register with a doctor.”
“I’m taking zinc.”
“What?”
“Nothing. But yeah, probably. I think I might get my IUD out.”
“Fun,” she mutters. “How long have you had it?”
“A year? But my periods have been a bitch.” And it’s not like I’m getting the most use of my long-term birth control. “You ever have one?”
“No. I was on the pill for a few years but it messed me up. I could never find the right one.”
“The joys of menstruation.” I flex my foot, choosing my next words carefully. “Must be nice to be off them.”
She says nothing, sorting through the Band-Aids.
I try again. “Did you notice a difference when you stopped? Or did you—”
“You can just ask me, Abby.”
“Right.” I take the Band-Aid from her, growing flustered as I press it to my heel. “Are you… I mean, did they say why you haven’t been able to—”
“Get pregnant?”
I nod.
“No.”
“Oh.”
There’s an awkward beat as I straighten and I think that’s it when she goes on.
“There’s nothing wrong with me,” she says. “At least nothing that they can tell. I’ve done all the tests. Tomasz too. And everything’s fine. Inside and out. We are two healthy, reproductively functioning adults. Who somehow are unable to conceive.”
“How long have you been trying?”
“Two years.” Her voice is matter-of-fact but she doesn’t look at me, pretending to reorganize the kit.
“I’m eating all the right food, having sex at all the right times, taking all the right vitamins—and nothing.
And no one can tell me why except that sometimes this happens and there’s nothing I can do about it.
” She shakes her head, her expression grim.
“I almost wish there was something. Does that sound awful? At least then I’d know for sure. ”
“There are other ways to have a child though, aren’t there?”
“Like what? IVF would wipe out our savings with no guarantee of anything. Adoption is…” She blows out a breath. “A long road. To commit to something like that I’d need to know for sure.”
Two years. I think about the few occasions I spoke with her during that time. The quick layovers, the polite video calls, and birthday emails. And all the while she was trying for a child she so desperately wants.
And I didn’t have a clue.
“I’m so sorry, Louise.”
“Sometimes when I see a family I just…” she trails off, and I remember back to Roman’s when I first came home.
The odd expression on her face when the toddler began to cry.
I’d put it down to annoyance at the time but now I wonder if it was something entirely different.
“And I can’t tell anyone,” she continues.
“Of course you can.”
“I can’t. It’s not talked about. Even now.
Mam is dying for a grandchild. I told her we’re waiting, but I don’t know how long I can keep using that excuse.
And there are websites and forums and stuff but they’re mostly for people with actual problems and I feel bad invading their space and—” She takes a breath, shutting herself up.
“I know there are people with bigger issues. I know that we’re lucky we’re healthy and we have a house and jobs and each other but I just… I want…”
My hearts breaks at the sudden yearning her face, a vulnerability I’ve never seen on her before.
“Why am I telling you this?” she asks suddenly. “Did you drug my water?”
“Maybe it’s the dramatic vista,” I say. “Or maybe it’s because you really do need to talk about it.”
“But with you?”
I laugh at the doubt in her voice. “I’m a good sister.”
“You’re fine.” But she’s smiling now. “Don’t tell Mam, okay? Thirty-three years old and I’m still worried about disappointing her.”
“It’s not your fault. You know she’d hate it if you thought that.”
“Look who’s talking.”
“Fair.” I tug my shoe back on, lacing it tight before reaching for my phone. “You could get a dog.”
Louise snorts. “Don’t. Tomasz would love one.”
“And you wouldn’t? You have the space.”
“Yeah, and who’s going to be the one to look after it? Plus it’s expensive. What if it gets sick?”
“You need to stop thinking about money.”
“That’s all I think about. That’s all anyone thinks about when you don’t have enough of it. You should know that by now.” She nudges my foot. “How’s the blister?”
“Okay. Rubbing a bit but…” I lose my train of thought, staring at my screen and the notification staring up at me.
A missed call from a Dublin number.
A second later another notification appears as if I summoned it. A voicemail.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I say faintly. “Missed call. I better ring them back.”
“Sure,” Louise says as Jess finally returns, drawing her in for a selfie.
I leave them to it and walk a few steps away as I click into the voice message, holding the phone tight to my ear.
Hi, Abby. This is Caroline, calling from Stewarts. I’m just ringing in relation to your recent application for our associate post. If you could give me a ring back on this number, that would be great. I’m going to send you an email now too. Speak soon.
I listen to it a second time, the words just audible over the noise of the wind. My heart starts to thump, suddenly nervous, and I don’t even think as I call the number back.
It rings and rings without connecting.
“You won’t get any signal up here,” Louise calls from behind me. “Try down there.”
I turn without answering and go down a few meters to a small rocky outcrop. Another try and this time it connects.
Less than three minutes later I walk back up.
Jess is sitting on my upturned backpack, scrolling through her photos while Louise breaks open our snacks for the day.
“Everything okay?” she asks, distracted.
I nod, turning the phone over in my hands. Jess looks up when I don’t answer, her eyes instantly narrowing.
“What?”
“Pat got me an interview.”
“You mean Pat from next door?” Louise asks at the same time as Jess asks, “Who’s Pat?”
“His cousin’s neighbor’s son works at Stewarts,” I begin as Jess jumps to her feet, understanding dawning.
“You sneaky bitch. I knew you had a plan. I can’t believe you kept your plan from me.”
Louise rises too, dusting dirt from her pants.
“It’s a smaller company,” I say, trying to keep her in my sight as Jess throws her arms around me. “But they’re good. They have offices all over the world.”
“They offered you a job?” Louise asks.
“Only an interview.”
“Only an interview,” Jess mimics. “This girl is the queen of interviews. You thrive on interviews. You know she used to do them for fun? Said it kept her on her toes, the weirdo.”
“It’s a foot in the door,” I say diplomatically.
Jess squeals, spinning me around. “I brought you some clothes in case this would happen.”
There’s a strange expression on Louise’s face but it vanishes as soon as I turn to her.
“Congratulations,” she says with a smile.
“It’s only an interview,” I repeat as Jess starts dancing around me.
“Everything will go back to normal!” she exclaims. “We can go home and you can show all those bitches what’s what.”
“What bitches?” I ask.
“No one,” she says quickly, twirling me. I fight back a scowl. I can only guess I’ve been the source of pitying gossip since I left.
“We need to celebrate,” Jess adds.
“Maybe Roman’s can squeeze us in for dinner,” Louise says. “I’ll see what time Tomasz gets off at.” She walks away, taking out her phone as Jess twirls me again.
“You’re not nervous, are you?”
“No. But would you stop? It’s one interview. Out of… several I applied for.”
She just shakes her head. “This is the one. I can feel it in my bones. I’m your good luck charm.”
“You’re something alright. Stop. I’m dizzy.”
Jess drapes an arm around my shoulders, looking victorious as my head spins.
“I was right,” she says, tilting her face toward the sun. “This hike was an excellent idea.”