Page 103 of Must Have Been Love

“Want to listen to some music and do silly dances like we did at your party?” I suggest as an alternative.

She nods vigorously, so we head inside the bar and we walk over to the jukebox, and I show her how it works. Then she presses the buttons herself, bringing up “Mamma Mia” by Abba. As soon as Agnetha and Anni-Frid’s vocals begin, I grab her hands, and we start to dance around the tables. I sing out loud and she grins like she’s enjoying herself.

After we’ve exhausted all the tracks on the jukebox, a few customers start to trickle in. I put Ayda on a stool at the bar with her coloring book, though she keeps jumping down to change the music then walking back again.

Maud comes in right after one. After she walks behind the bar and puts her apron on, I take my break because it’s past lunchtime and if there’s one thing I know about kids it’s that they get hungry, so I take Ayda back to the apartment and let her choose what she wants in her sandwich by pointing at some meat and cheese.

“Milk or orange juice?” I ask her, holding up both cartons for her to choose from.

She points at the sink. “Water?” I ask and she nods. I fill up two glasses and put them on a tray along with the sandwiches I’ve made for us, then we carry them out to the front deck because it’s way too nice a day to be eating lunch inside.

I’ll never get tired of this view. It’s constantly changing. Today the ocean is a blue-green as it laps against the golden sand. There are some tourists walking around the beach. There will be even more later. The ferry has switched over to its high summer timetable, sailing twice an hour each way.

Though the bar is already busy, there are some tables left. Ayda chooses one by the door and sits down on the chair and daintily takes a bite of her sandwich. Seagulls squawk in the sky above us, a woman walks out of the bar with a soda and takes a seat a few tables down from us, and I go to take a bite of my own sandwich, only to be interrupted by the shrill sound of my phone.

Thinking it’s probably Hudson, I grab it and look at the screen.

But it’s Dr. Methi’s name written in black beneath the glass.

He probably wants to know how it’s going with me and Ayda since we talked in his office, so I accept the call, smiling at Ayda who’s already halfway through her sandwich.

“Hello?”

“Skyler? It’s Dr. Methi.” He sounds almost solemn. “Are you able to talk for a moment?”

“Yes, of course.” I glance at Ayda. She’s looking around at the people sitting on the deck.

“I got your results back. They sent them to me because I wrote the original script. They should have gone to your primary physician.”

“No problem.” I smile because I finally managed to make my appointment earlier in the week, and I’m feeling like a real grown up. “I can send you the details for my primary if you want to send them on. Unless it’s bad news, in which case…” I trail off, waiting for him to laugh.

But he doesn’t.

“There’s no bad news, right?” I ask softly. My heart starts to speed. No, no, no. Not when I’m finally happy, finally settled.

“It depends how you look at it,” he replies.

This isn’t good. This isn’t good at all. Ayda is drinking her water and looking at the birds flying overhead. I ignore my sandwich, because suddenly I feel sick.

“Tell me,” I whisper. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Strictly speaking, I should send this to your primary physician.”

“You’re also a doctor. You’re allowed to tell me, right?” I lower my voice, half an eye on Ayda who is completely distracted by the birds. “If I’m sick, I need to know.”

He clears his throat. “It’s not like that,” he tells me. “You’re not sick, Skyler. The blood test shows positive HCG levels. You’re pregnant.”

* * *

I’m on birth control. That’s all I can think when Dr. Methi ends the call, after checking that I’m okay and telling me to call him once I’ve absorbed the news if I need to talk things through.

But it’s not the kind of news you can absorb. Not when you’re sitting next to your boyfriend’s daughter, who’s tugging at your hand because she wants to eat your sandwich, too.

I push it toward her, trying to smile. And then, while she’s distracted, I start searching for answers on my phone.

Chances of getting pregnant while taking a birth control pill – one percent. Then I see the caveat,that’s if it’s taken perfectly. Imperfectly the chances run up to five percent. It’s still low. So low this shouldn’t be possible.

I google again. Chances of getting pregnant while on the progestin only birth control pill – eight percent.

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