Page 65 of Best Laid Plans
When I started spending every night at Cole’s, I stopped reading the pregnancy and surrogacy books. I couldn’t exactly curl up next to him withWhat to Expect When You’re Expecting, but I gathered enough information in the early days to understand pregnancy symptoms that are common. I’m starting to wonder if the way I’ve been feeling has less to do with Cole and more to do with things happening inside my body. But, I can’t get up enough courage to take a test. I’m in that sweet spot of denial where I know exactly what could be happening but am too scared to face it, hoping maybe I’m wrong. Because what the hell would I do if my suspicions are correct?
I haven’t heard from Cole, but I haven’t reached out either. Without the surrogacy to hide behind, being rejected by Cole would be too hard. He’d be rejecting me, not just my situation. I don’t know if I can handle that.
“Um, what was the question?”
Jake chuckles at my distracted response.
“Do you need help hanging those?”
I shake my head. “No. I’m good. Thank you.”
I wait for him to leave but after a few seconds I turn to find him still standing there watching me.
“Do you want to grab a drink later?” His lips curve into a sexy grin. My eyeballs are the only part of my body that register his appeal. It’s purely an observation, with my body having no reaction to it. My libido must be broken.Or, a little voice whispers,you’re in love with Cole. Part of me wishes I could easily accept Jake’s offer, go back to impromptu flings and casual sex, but I’m not the same woman that lusted over his hard abs and sweat-clingy shirt a few months ago.
I shake my head. “No, thanks. I’m seeing someone.” Which is not technically true. I haven’t seen Cole in nine days, four hours and twenty-seven minutes. But Jake doesn’t need to know the details.
“Okay.” He shrugs, his confidence unshaken. “See you next week.”
When I’m finished at the condo, I pack up my stuff and head to my car. Sue is on a remodel project and won’t be by to check out my work until tomorrow. Before I drive home, I text Sam to see if she wants to come over to watch a movie. She responds quickly letting me know she’s tied up at the boutique and will call me tomorrow. Ellie and Josh are on a date tonight. She had excitedly told me that Josh finally got reservations at Barcelona. My thumb hovers over Cole’s name. I could text. Or maybe call? What would I say? I drop my phone into the console and drive. I’m just not ready for that conversation yet.
* * *
For the past nine years, August twenty-third has been the same. Ellie and I take flowers to our parents’ grave. This time of year, the weather is typically sunny and warm, but we’ve had a few rainy years that required an umbrella. We sit for a while, talking about favorite memories. Trips we took to Disneyland and the Grand Canyon. Mom’s affinity for tube tops in the 90s. The time Dad burned his eyebrows off trying to repair the furnace himself. We laugh. We cry. When we are done, Josh drives us back to their house where we grill steak kabobs, my dad’s favorite, and eat the strawberry rhubarb pie that Ellie made, mom’s recipe. It’s been nine years since my parents died. It feels like forever.
So much has happened in those nine years, it feels like we’ve been missing them for a whole lifetime. Each year gets easier, yet harder. Easier because it’s another year that we’ve lived without them, but harder for the same reason. It’s another year that life has moved on. And now with Ellie pregnant, I feel that life change even more. Every year I’m reminded that life keeps moving on, whether I want it to or not.
After dinner we settle onto the couch to watch old family movies. Since we grew up before capturing every moment on video or in photos on your phone was possible, our selection is limited. But video recorders were a thing, and lucky for us that when VHS went out of style, my parents had all the video tapes transferred onto DVD.
We’ve done everything the same, but I can’t shake the feeling that something is different this year. Like, the weight of loss feels heavier somehow. But, I chalk it up to this funk I’ve been in since Cole and I broke up. Or just stopped talking, I’m not even sure what to call it.
When the last video ends, I excuse myself to use the bathroom. I have a headache, not sure if it’s from the wine I had earlier or from the emotional toll of the day. I find the ibuprofen in the cabinet and take two with a cup of water. When I set the bottle back in the cabinet, I notice a box of pregnancy tests. They must be left over from Ellie’s last round of IVF. I’ve taken one before, not because I actually thought I was pregnant but because I wondered what it was like to pee on a stick and have it tell you something important about your life. Baby or no baby. It was in the midst of Ellie and Josh’s fertility woes, I was trying to give moral support to Ellie. The ever practical and financially responsible Josh was annoyed that I used a perfectly good test for no reason. You basically peed on a five-dollar bill, was his response. I hadn’t thought about it like that before.
I peek in the box. There are two tests left. Ellie won’t be using them, she’s already pregnant. I pull one out but hesitate for a moment, wondering if now is really when I want to put my suspicions to rest. Ultimately, I unwrap the test, follow the directions and wash my hands. This is nothing like the commercial where the couple sets a timer to wait the requisite three minutes, then they pace around the house until finally ending up back in the bathroom for the big reveal. I’m alone, and I’ve got results in fifteen seconds.
Two unequivocally dark lines.
37
Brooke
Back in the living room, I start to fold up my blanket. I feel the need to escape. I need time to think. Time to process all the feelings that positive test is stirring inside me.
Ellie looks up at me from where she’s snuggled with Josh under a blanket.
“You okay?”
I could tell Ellie. She would be supportive, giddy even, I’m sure. But I’m not ready for that yet.
“I’m going to go home,” I say.
“Really?” Her surprise is evident.
“Yeah, I’m just tired.”
“You can sleep here,” she offers.
“I know, but I think I’ll sleep better in my own bed.” I usually spend the night, and this year would be easy to do especially since it’s a Saturday. “Is that okay?”
