Breathing a sigh of a relief when I can practically see my reflection in the countertops, I head back to my desk, much calmer now. Sitting in my chair with a fresh cup of tea, I take in the peace and quiet for just a moment. It is short lived as my cell starts to dance across my desk. I recognize the number and pick it up. The receptionist at the ultrasound place had a last-minute cancellation this afternoon, and I’m quick to accept her timeslot. This morning was bad enough, showing up and waiting like an idiot. I’ve learned my lesson and have no desire to tell him about this second appointment.
“Guess what?!” Vicky is sitting on my freshly-disinfected desk with her (God knows where it’s been) ass.
Frowning, I eventually indulge her. “Let me guess, the Jerk came and saw you and is trying to worm his way back as Mr. Nice Guy?”
She stops mid-smile and grimaces. “Are you in love with him?”
“Wh…why would you say that?” I stutter, wanting to slap myself in the face for making her think I am. Because I’m not.
“Just asking…so anyway, Patrick called me,” she says excitedly.
Welcoming the switch of topic and avoiding the awkward conversation about love, I am shocked and surprised to learn the weasel is contacting Vicky again. Here’s the thing about Patrick: he’s the ultimate jerk. The amount of pain and humiliation he caused Vicky is downright inexcusable. There is no logical reason for him to call Vicky, apart from wanting to bang her one more time, then send her off on a shame parade down the highway to hell.
“Patrick? Your ex? The man who was married with kids and fucked you till all hell broke loose? Patrick?”
She grins, and automatically I worry that she will (if she hasn’t already) jump on the boat to Brokenheartsville. Again.
“Vicky, don’t go there again. You were a mess last time,” I gently warn her.
“But this time I’m over him. I’m just curious to find out what he wants,” she tries to reassure me.
This isn’t good. I have half a mind to call him up and tell him to fuck off or I’ll chop his balls up and feed it to the snappy dog that lives next door. But of course, I try to be the mature and ever-so-caring friend. I was there through it all, from the snotty sobs to plotting the ultimate revenge. What I didn’t expect was to be back here two years later, and for Vicky to so eagerly jump back in.
“What else would he want but to get you into bed?”
“Closure,” she replies.
“Guys don’t want closure. They just go find some new jackrabbit to fuck…or something along those lines,” I mumble.
“What?”
“Never mind,” I tell her. Stupid jerk.
Vicky continues to justify her reasons for responding to him, and I continue to play the friend that tries to stop her from making another wrong decision. But it’s her decision, and no amount of persuasion from me will change her mind. Mental note: stock up on ice cream because it’s all downhill from here.
“I’m guessing we will continue this conversation tonight. Listen, I love you, but if he hurts you in the slightest way, I will go all psycho on his ass.”
“I know you got my back.” She simpers, leaning in to kiss my forehead as reassurance. “Are you going somewhere now?”
“The Jerk stood me up this morning so I missed my appointment. The ultrasound place has another opening this afternoon, so once I finish this report I’m working on, I’m heading out.”
“Uh oh. I need the whole story.” She glances at her watch. “But I’ve got a meeting I need to get to. I’ll call you tonight, okay?” She raises her eyes, then quickly says goodbye and disappears. Weird, but then again, her head is probably clouded with thoughts of Patrick and his wandering dick.
I make it to the appointment with only a minute to spare. The sonographer, Sandra, invites me into the room, and just as I’m about to close the door behind me, I hear chaos in the waiting room.
“Am I late?”
Panting and out of breath, the Jerk bends, resting his body against the door and trying to redeem himself. His hair is a wild mess and sweat is visibly dripping down his forehead.
“Why are you here? I didn’t tell you…”
Damn Vicky! That conniving little witch!
“I’m here, okay? Quit giving me grief.”
Secretly, I am glad he is here. Whatever reason he felt the need to see our baby, I don’t care. It’s the first moment throughout the pregnancy where I feel normal, and when I say normal, I mean with a partner right beside me. Sure, it’s all fantasy, but just for this short time I can pretend it’s real.
But, of course, I wouldn’t think of telling him that, and instead I poke fun at him.
“Geez, Jerk, wouldn’t hurt you to hit the gym once in a while.”
“I ran ten blocks,” he responds, exasperated. “In an Armani suit.”
I roll my eyes at his melodrama and walk into the room. My cheeks start to flush as I think of having to change into the gown. Thankfully, Sandra senses my embarrassment and leads me to the bathroom inside the room where I quickly change into my gown. Walking back into the room, my bare body lays beneath the thin material and feels extremely exposed.
Ignore that he is right beside you, because it’s not like he has X-ray vision!
I cross to the other side of the bed as Sandra assists me with getting comfortable. The sheets are placed strategically over Kitty, and the Jerk takes a seat beside me as the warm lube is spread all over my belly.
“That’s a lot of lube,” he snickers under his breath.
“So mature, Jerk.”
The volume is turned up on the machine, and Sandra moves around my uterus until the baby’s heartbeat echoes throughout the room. It’s like music to my ears, and my eyes move towards the screen as I watch the images of what looks like a happy little baby cooped up inside.
“So the baby is measuring correctly,” she tells us, typing in the measurements as she speaks.
Haden is staring at the screen, fixated on the baby. “Can you tell us what the sex is?”
“I sure can.” She smiles.
“Don’t tell him. I don’t want to know.” I shake my head.
“You can’t decide that for me.”
“Seriously, what the hell is your problem? You think I’m hormonal, what about you? You’re such a jerk!”
Sandra pauses and looks at the both of us. “So yes…no?”
“No,” I say at the same time he says yes.
I speak up again. “Absolutely not. If you want to know, then I’ll leave the room.”
“No yet, Miss Malone. I just wanted to talk about the position. The baby is breech. However, there is still time to turn.”
In a blind panic, I ask, “Is there anything I can do to help the baby turn?”
“Your obstetrician may be able to assist, but the best thing you can do is relax and enjoy the rest of the pregnancy. Any previous concerns we had don’t seem to be an issue anymore.”
She spends longer checking the baby and its progress, and I forget the Jerk is even in the room. I only remember he is here when I hear him clear his throat. Something about the way he is amorously staring at the screen consumes me. He’s lost in a moment where his soul becomes an open book, and I see a man who is capable of loving this unborn child more than himself. It moves me, yet I break away from these thoughts. This line of thinking is dangerous, because deep inside, my walls are breaking down and he is the giant wrecking ball ready to do damage.
It takes every part of me to turn away from this beautiful sight and move myself off the bed.
Haden reaches out his hand to help me, but stubborn old me refuses to touch him, and I almost fall off the bed.