Total pages in book: 183
Estimated words: 174715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 874(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 874(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
I force myself to get into the shower, and finish my morning routine. Thirty minutes later, with my hair dry, my makeup applied, and my tests tucked in a bag and a robe on, I exit the bathroom. My mother is no longer in the living area but I hear her talking on her phone, laughing even, and I wonder if it’s the architect. This development worries me. If my mother gets hurt, if she gets stressed, I am concerned about how that impacts her health, but it’s so good to hear her smile.
Thirty minutes later, I’m dressed casually to work at Cat’s place, in jeans and an emerald green blouse with boots. The entire subway ride I think of that pregnancy test, and when I exit to Cat’s street I can’t help myself. I go to the store and buy another duet of tests. I stuff them in my briefcase, and decide I’ll just sneak into Cat’s bathroom and take the test.
I hurry through her building and up the elevator and the minute she answers the door, I blurt out. “Can you be a friend, not my boss, for about ten minutes?”
Her eyes go wide. “Is your mother okay?” She backs up to let me enter.
“Very. She’s dating again. It’s about me.”
I walk down the hallway and turn right and enter the bathroom, quickly pulling out the test kit. “What’s going on?” Cat asks. “You’re worrying me.”
I get it started, set it on the edge of the trashcan and once I’ve put everything back in place, cleaned up the package and me, I open the door. “Do you remember the night you had to leave me in the bar about a month ago?”
“Yes. Why?”
“There was a man, a really hot man, and—”
“You went home with him?”
“To his hotel. He was from out of town. I don’t do that kind of thing, but it had been so long and—,” I shake my head. “I did it. We used a condom, but I haven’t started my period. I’m freaking out. I took two tests this morning.”
“And?”
“Negative and—” I back up and grab the stick. “Also negative.” I toss the test in the trashcan. “What if I am, though?” I sit on the toilet seat.
She kneels in front of me. “You’re not. Those tests are very accurate, and I know this because I had the same scare a while back myself. My doctor told me stress and long hours can cause a missed period. You are a prime candidate for that issue.”
“I know. I know I am.”
“They can do a blood test. I’ll send you to my doctor. She’s on your new insurance.”
“Is it even in effect yet?”
“Yes. We made sure of it. Let me call.” She stands up. “I need to get my phone and we both know you need coffee.” She motions me forward. I exhale and grab my things before following her. By the time I’ve set my stuff on the barstools and made a cup of coffee, she’s booked me an appointment for one hour from now.
“It’s Friday so we’re lucky to get you in, but beware,” she says, as I sit down. “That also means you won’t get the results until Monday, which is really bad timing.”
“Is there good timing for this?” I ask, frustrated with myself that this is even an issue.
“Better than this. You have an interview with the consortium Wednesday.”
I gape. “Wednesday? As in this coming Wednesday?”
“Yes. Which is why you need to go to this appointment and be able to get this off your mind. Reese’s team is here this weekend working on a case. We want you to be here. You can learn from sitting in and we’ll randomly throw questions at you for interview prep.”
“Please prep me,” I say. “I want to nail this and being here and working will keep my mind off other things.”
“You aren’t pregnant,” she assures me and picks up her coffee. “Tell me about the hot man that actually convinced you to have some fun.”
“No,” I say, because the story of Cole’s existence might be out, but he’s still my dirty little secret.
An hour and a half later, I have peed in a cup and given blood, and suffered through a pelvic exam. I’m now dressed again and judging from this visit, that’s the way I need to stay. My doctor, a stunning woman in her forties with blonde hair and blue eyes, rejoins me after. “All tests are negative,” she says, after shutting the door and perching on her rolling stool, while I sit in the chair by the exam table. “It’s been a month, almost five weeks by the date you’ve given me; you used a condom, you’re safe. The urine test would be showing the pregnancy by now.”
She reviews a long list of possibilities as to why I haven’t had my cycle. “We can put you on a birth control pill,” she concludes. “That regulates your periods and hormones.”