When the car slowly comes to a stop, I feel the bag jolt forward and I am pulled with it. It has so much control over my actions. I open the door and carry the bag up to the entrance. Tabitha walks in front of me and unlocks the door. I b-line it to the bathroom. The stairs seem stepper than ever and the hallway longer than ever. I walk into the door of the white bathroom and slowly, I let my grip on the bag free. The plastic left an imprint through the palm of my hand. Now the memory will linger longer than I would like.
Tabitha walks in through the open door. She comes over to the sink and puts her hand on my back.
“Maybe you aren’t,” she says, “Don’t get too upset yet.”
I nod slowly. She faintly smiles at me and walks out. The door softly closes behind her.
I pull the box out of the bag and I avoid looking at the design on the box because I know that it will cause me to hesitate further. I quickly tear open the box and pull the thin test out. The tip is covered by a blue plastic sleeve. In the center, a little screen is etched into the frame. On this screen, my fate lies. Please.
I walk over to the toilet, pull down my pants and pull off the cap. The end looks so daunting. I lean down and attempt to pee on the thin stick. This proves difficult but after a slight struggle, I am successful. I pull my pants back up and stand up.
I put the cap back on and wait. I place it on the counter and open the door. Tabitha sits against the wall in the loft, holding a book. She is intently reading. I am starting to realize that reading is her way of destressing.
She sees me in the doorway and immediately puts her bookmark in the book and firmly shuts it. She places it on the bookshelf to her left and walks over to me.
“Did you see it yet?” She looks nervous. She holds her hands together in front of her body. She only does this in times of severe anxiety for her.
“I want you to look first,” I say quietly. I move out of the doorway and she walks in, alone.
I watch her as she walks to the counter and analyzes the test. After a second she picks up the test.
She looks at me with wide eyes and turns the test around to face me.
CHAPTER TWELVE: THE RAPIDS
A tiny positive sign glares back at me. My hands move over my mouth. I don’t know what to do. My brain is too fogged to even process this information. I don’t think Noah even wants a baby let alone one with a stranger…
Then the thought hits me harder than any have previously. It could be Kane’s. I was with him twice during the same week I was with Noah.
I feel my legs go weak and my breath get sparse. I look up at Tabitha with fear in my eyes.
“It could be Kane’s,” I whimper.
She looks at me and matches my expression. She doesn’t know how bad Kane has gotten but I assume she has inferred through context clues.
“Did you sleep with him?” She asks, “I thought you broke up 4 years ago?”
My assumption was wrong.
“Um, yeah,” I say shakingly, “we broke up the same week I came here for the first time.”
She looks confused. I don’t know if she sees this as betrayal or if she is truly worried for me.
“I don’t understand,” She says. She puts the test back on the counter and looks at me.
“We-uh.” My throat starts to get dry, “we were together for 7 years and he—”
It hurts to talk about. I don’t want to tell that he was abusive to me but I paint him like the good because for 5 of the 7 years, he was manipulative and horr-
You love him.
Tell her you love him.
My throat tightens and my nostrils flare. I can’t. I don’t. Do I? I think about Noah. His soft cheeks and hearty laughter always calms me. I close my eyes and let the memories of him take over. My breath starts to even again.
“He was abusive,” I admit. Just saying that sentence is so relieving on my tired shoulders. My conscience has been begging for the last two and a half weeks to tell Tabitha what has been happening.
She looks at me. I expect shock but her face remains neutral. She does feel empathy but I can tell she must have seen this coming.
“I should’ve just—” Tabitha tries to find a way to blame herself, “i just, I thought he might become abusive.” She whispers ‘abusive’ like it is the taboo word that could be said in the setting and time.
“It’s ok,” I breathe, “it couldn’t have been avoided.”
“So what are you going to do about the baby?” Tabitha asks. She looks down at the positive test. The anxiousness grows. My recent proclamation and the idea of having a baby with either a ‘stranger’ or my abusive ex-boyfriend is not exactly where I anticipated my life going after leaving Kane behind.
It seems that even if I physically get away from him, I can never mentally detach myself.
“I don’t know…” My sentence trails off. I want to keep the baby. I know I didn’t want a baby at this exact time but if it is Noah’s this could have a happy ending. The one I have always waited for.
“Are you going to keep it?” She asks. I let the question sink in.
“Yes.”
“You have to tell at least Noah,” Tabitha says, “you don’t have to tell Kane if you don’t want to.”
I nod my head. I can’t look at the test anymore. I begin to walk out of the bathroom. Tabitha follows me.
“If you are going to keep it, you need to take multivitamins and call for a doctor's appointment.”
“How do I do that?” I am so new to this I have no idea what kind of vitamins I should take or how to call a maternity doctor.
“I can call the doctor for you and I have some of the vitamins still.” She sounds rushed.
She speed walks into the bathroom and moves through the room with more energy than I have seen her use in a long time. She reaches into the cabinet above the sink and pulls out a fat bottle filled with tablets. She thrusts it forward into my face. She has become in charge of this situation. I know and she knows it.
I take it and inspect the label. A picture of a pregnant woman is printed on it. I look at the picture. I can’t imagine myself with that kind of bump. I can’t imagine myself as a mother. I have always wanted kids but not in my current situation. This is not the right time.
My hand moves up and holds the bottom of my abdomen. It is surreal to think that a child is growing inside of me. A human is in the process of developing and using my body as it’s growing space. Human are naturally parasitic.
“Take two of those,” Tabitha insists.
I open the bottle and throw two of the pills down my throat.
“Come with me,” she says. I put the bottle down and walk downstairs with her. She walks to the coffee table in the great room and picks up her cell phone.
“I’m going to call Dr. Martin. He was my maternity doctor.” She says.
I nod in agreement. I don’t really know any other optional. She quickly dials a number and holds the phone up to her face.
“Hi? Dr. Martin? Yes, this is Tabitha Grenich. No, no I’m not pregnant. Yes, thank you that’s very nice. No, actually my friend Ana is pregnant. Yes. No. Uh, hold on.” She hands the the phone to me.
“Hello?”
“Hello! You are Ana?”
“Yes?”
“First off, congratulations.”
“Thanks…”
“Second, how many weeks are you?”
I try to think. How long has it been since I slept with Kane and Noah? I try to count back.
“Two and a half weeks, I think.”
“Since your last cycle?”
“Oh, um, 4 weeks.”