Page 74 of The Seven Month Itch
“You might want to see a doctor, Jay. A bad bug is going around the office. Vicki came back to work today after two weeks out. And Alan? He pretty much shit himself for five days straight.”
I groan into my hands. “Of course there is.” I’ve been counting down the days on my calendar until the ocean breeze hits my face. “I can’t get sick now.”
Whatever I have comes and goes in waves. One minute, I’m fine. The next, I want to long jump over desks to reach the bathroom. Sickness and I are distant enemies that don’t write, but whatever demon is trying to wring my body of all fluids wants to be pen pals. I need to get to a doctor soon. But it takes weeks to get an appointment, which is why I’m so grateful my mom’s sorority sister relocated to Austin and is now my physician.
An idea comes to mind when I finish the text to Dr. Patal asking to see her today. I crack open the ginger ale and let the flavors calm my stomach. “You’re right, Liv. Let’s close up for the day.”
“Sounds good.” Her ponytail bounces from side to side as she makes her way to the door. Crimson is such a good color on her. I looked like a frumpy fashion accident when I first landed here after college. Professional clothes for me back then were kitten heels andLittle House on the Prairieskirts I found at the thrift store. At twenty-five, Olivia is one of the youngest on staff, and she struts through the office like she just came from Milan. Her wit is as fierce as the jumpsuit and gold heels she’s wearing today. She turns to call over her shoulder, “See you in a couple days?”
“No.” I stand and smile at the lost look on her face. “You know what? I think I’ll surprise Terrence in California early and work remotely for the rest of the week. You shouldn’t come in, either. To protect yourself from this bug going around.”
Her eyes twinkle with mischief. “Yes, of course. We need to be careful.” A brow raises. “I’ll see you after your trip?”
“It looks that way. You have a vacation next week too, right?”
She nods.
Our company offers generous vacation time, but with the recent accounts we snagged, it’s an all-hands-on-deck situation. Management isn’t a fan of time away right now, but this two-woman team deserves a break. We handled our business, and then some. Come hell, high water, or a face full of meds, I’ll get to California.
“Well then. See you in three weeks.”
“I’m sorry, could you please repeat that?”
“You’re pregnant, Justice. About five weeks.”
My throat works to swallow. The expression on Dr. Patal’s face is full of warmth, but I don’t think I heard her correctly because she said I’m pregnant.
Me.
“H-how did it happen?” I came in because of the flu.
She laughs. “Well, I don’t think I have to explain to youhowpregnancies happen, dear.” Her hands clasp together. “When you said it was urgent, the symptoms you described worried me. The flu that’s going around is pretty nasty, so I rushed some tests. Your HCG levels are high and consistent with someone who’s pregnant.”
She said the p-word again.
Huh.
“You okay, sweetie?”
“Yup. Great.” My words come out in a shriek. “I’m sorry, I didn’t expect this. Are yousurethatI’mpregnant?”
She reaches across her desk to take my hand. Dr. Patal’s office reminds me of my mother. Photos of her and my mom line bookshelves, along with family pictures with her partner Prisha.
“I’m sure, honey. The tests are pretty accurate. You should make an appointment with your ob-gyn soon. Okay?”
“Yes, of course. Thank you so much,” I say and wince. “Please don’t tell my mom yet.” I cringe at the thought of the two of them on the phone. TMZ has nothing on these gossips.
“I promise. Doctor-patient confidentiality prohibits me. It’s your business to share whenever you are ready. Congratulations, sweetheart.”
I sit in my car after we say our goodbyes, my hands in a death grip on the steering wheel. I called my ob-gyn and made an appointment after I return from California, but I can’t will myself to leave this parking lot.
I’m pregnant.
My first instinct is to rush out and buy five pregnancy tests. But what’s the point? If my doctor says there’s a bun in my oven, there’s a bun in my oven.
Motherhood should excite me, but the pain of the last two pregnancy losses has me gasping for air. I choke back a sob and drop my head to the wheel. Terrence and I yearn to be parents. But the thought that lots of sex leads to a baby didn’t cross our minds.
Our baby.
