Page 13 of The Doctor's Surprise Family

“But, wait, no, itwas. But, weren’t we something?”

“I’m not saying we weren’t. But things run their course.”

“But…” He stood, looking lost, hands dangling at his sides. I picked up my book bag.

“I should be going.”

“I’m sorry I lied to you. More than you know. If I could go back in time and be honest from the start, I swear I would do it, no second thoughts.”

I wanted to snap it him,which start was that?Back at Thanksgiving, when he said he wanted to date me? Six weeks after that, when he gave me a key to his place? Whenexactlydid he think he should’ve been honest? But I kept my lips zipped, my hurt buried deep. If I wasn’t worth staying at home for, then he wasn’t worth my anger or tears.

“Claire, please, at least can I call you tomorrow?”

“I’ll call you,” I said, and turned to go. I snagged my jacket off the kitchen chair where I’d tossed it, and didn’t look back as I marched out the door.

I stayed in bed a week after that, Zooming in for my classes in my PJs. I ate tubs of ice cream and crunched peanut brittle, and I packed up a “boyfriend box” of all Blake’s crap. I set it out on my stoop and textedCome get it, and ignored his volley of frantic replies. I ignored him, as well, when he knocked on my door, and I marked his email as spam in case he tried that.

My last day in bed was the last time Blake texted, only four words.Please talk to me.I wanted to, so bad, but not about us. I wanted to talk to him as I had before, about school and dumb stuff, and books we’d both read. I wanted to laugh at our stupid in-jokes, lean up against him as we dozed off to some movie. But he’d ruined all that. We could never go back. So I read his last text and then I hit block, and I got up and showered till my skin went all pruney.

“We’re over,” I said, when I got out. My face in the mirror looked blotchy and sad. I pushed my hair back and slapped on a smile. I was just me again, no more us. No more Blake. But that was fine,because my whole life was starting. Everything I’d dreamed of. Nothing could change that.

I repeated that mantra the rest of the night —my whole life is starting. All of my dreams. I whispered it when I sat down to write my exams. Whenever thoughts of Blake surfaced, I drowned him out with that line. He’d been a nice bonus for a little while, but college relationships were like college, a phase. You went and you learned something, and then you moved on.

I was mostly okay by the end of exams, and it helped that Blake didn’t show for graduation. I heard from Sam he’d reported for training. That he’d be shipping out in a few weeks. Part of me ached for a proper goodbye, the chance to hug him and wish him well, but I knew it would hurt too much if I had to see him. He’d smile in that way he had that made me feel loved, like I was the best thing he had in his life, and my heart would melt. I’d be back to square one.

I celebrated with Joelle the same day Blake shipped out, three months to the day from our big breakup. We started at my house, packing up for my move — I’d rented a new place closer to work — and from there we hit bar after bar after bar, gathering fellow graduates at every stop. It was a great night, fueled by relief and excitement, our exams all behind us, our next steps ahead. I remember I danced, and I sang karaoke, and I woke the next morning sick as a dog. Which, Iguessedit made sense. I’d done three or four shots before switching to water. For someone who barely drank, that was a lot.

When I was still sick the next morning, I blamed the flu. Therehadbeen one lately making the rounds, and we’d been crowded in tight at the bar. I hunkered down with someHousewivesand waited for it to pass, but by the end of the week I felt worse than ever, so wiped I slept through the day of my move. I flopped onmy mattress in my new, empty room, and drowsed as the movers stacked boxes outside.

When they were gone, I got up and showered, and it was there in the bathtub I let myself face the truth. I’d been gaining weight, but most of us had, stress-eating as we boned up for exams. I’d been getting zits, which I’d blamed on junk food. But junk food didn’t explain the bag in my cupboard, the box of tampons inside with the yellowed receipt. I’d bought them three months ago, so why hadn’t I used them? Itcould’vebeen stress, but I’d been stressed before. And I’d never been this late, not once in my life.

I took the home test the next day, then the day after that, I went to the doctor. Both tests came back positive. I wasn’t surprised. Blake might’ve been, but he hid it well. He hid it so well he never reached out at all. Never replied to my calls or emails, which, I supposed, was a response in itself. I’d shut him out, and now he’d shut me out. He’d shut us both out, me and his baby.

He’d never been the man I fell for at all.

CHAPTER 6

BLAKE

FOUR YEARS LATER

Isat on the bed, suitcase at my side, watching the cars go by headed uptown. I’d deliberately picked a rental close to my college place, but now I was here, it felt… strange. It felt like a place I’d read about in a book, but it didn’t match up with how I’d imagined. Nothing was quite how I remembered it being — a house painted pink I was sure had been blue. A Buck Plus on the corner I’d thought was a Save More. The grass was a darker green than the grass I remembered. The roads were all narrower, the fall breeze too cool. Hadn’t it been hot here, that long fall with Claire? Hadn’t we stretched on her rug in her den, with a fan blowing over a bowl full of ice cubes?

Memphis wasn’t my home, I guessed was the problem. It was the last place I’dcalledhome, so I’d come back on leave, but what was here for me four years down the road? A few old friends, sure, but they all seemed busy. Even Sam, my first call, had rushed me off the phone.Gotta go. I’m on call. Talk soon, okay?

I stood up and stretched until my back cracked, then went to the window and peered up the street. I couldn’t see my old place from here, but I could see my bus stop. The shelter at least wasjust like I remembered, shaky and scratched-up, plastered with ads. If I squinted, I could make out my spot on the bench, where I’d sat with my book till I heard my bus coming. Sometimes in my last year, I’d sat there with Claire.

Claire.

I closed my eyes. No. I wasn’t back here for her. I hadn’t come hoping we’d somehow cross paths, and she’d have forgiven me, and life would be rainbows. Things like that only happened in books. I’d come because, hell, where else would I go? Where else had I lived eight years back-to-back, mostly in the same place, the same bed to go back to? The same friends through the years, Sam and Joelle? Where else had I had that? The answer was nowhere. So, no. I hadnotcome back dreaming of Claire, though I had dreamed of her on the flight over. But, an actual sleep-dream. Not some sad fantasy.

I pulled out my phone and checked the time. Chow time. I wasn’t hungry, but if the Army does one thing, it turns a man into a creature of habit. Eating time in the Army, you sit down and eat, and a quick visit home doesn’t change that. I unzipped my suitcase and pulled out a fresh shirt, changed, washed my face, and headed up past the bus stop.

I didn’t have Claire in mind when I set out. It was habit, again, that led me to our diner, where we must’ve shared a hundred lunch combos. Plus it was close, and their burgers weregood. So of course I wound up there, back at our table, looking out at the patch of park we’d always looked out at. One time, a ball had smacked right on that window, and Claire had jumped up and spilled her leek soup. She’d screamed, then she’d laughed, and she’d sat down all shaky.

“I thought that broke through. I thought I felt glass.” She touched her hair like she still thought she might find some shards there.

“Nah, just a soccer ball. Too light to break through.”

---