Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 77857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Not pregnant
Not pregnant
Not pregnant
After washing my hands, I return to Davey’s office and see that she’s still alone.
“So…good news?” she says.
“Depending on who you ask.” I walk in and show her the stick.
“So it’s unlikely you’re pregnant. Although I would definitely test again if your period does end up being late.”
“I was ovulating, Davey.”
“That’s no guarantee. Surely you know your biology, Rory.”
I plunk into the chair across from her desk. “Yes, I know.”
“Is this good news or bad news?”
“I’m not sure. But I’m a little…sad.”
“That’s natural, for someone who wants a baby.”
“Yeah. This relationship is still so new, though.”
“You’ll have plenty of other chances to be pregnant, Rory.”
“What if I can’t? What if this means I’m infertile?”
Davey smiles. “You’re not infertile, Rory.”
“You can’t tell that just by looking at me.”
“Okay, you’re right. Chances are you’re not infertile.”
“Are you a doctor?”
“A midwife, actually. Certified.”
I gasp and smile. “You deliver babies! That’s wonderful.”
“Well, I work here now. But yes, I do offer my services to our clients who choose to use a midwife instead of an ob-gyn.”
Davey’s phone buzzes. “Yes?”
“Your next client is here, Davey.”
“Okay, thank you. I’ll be right out.” She clicks the phone off. “I’m sorry, Rory, but I need to take my appointment.”
I rise. “I understand. Thank you so much for your time.”
“Call me anytime. And if you don’t get your period on time, take another test.”
“But…?”
“But…chances are it will also be negative.”
I nod and leave her office.
Brock will be relieved. I guess we go back to using stupid condoms.
Then I laugh out loud as I walk to my car. Was I truly hoping to be pregnant just so we didn’t have to use condoms? Have I truly gone bananas?
It’s all of this. It’s the stupid fight I had with Brock this morning.
It’s Pat Lamone and those photos.
It’s Brock and his family and everything they’re going through.
It’s my mother and my father and Donny and Callie and Jesse and my students and the recital and my unfulfilled opera career and…and…
It’s certainly better not to bring a baby into this mix. Not right now anyway.
I need to think of this as a blessing.
I must get through everything else, and then, if Brock and I are still together and if we still love each other and if he still wants to marry me…
That’s a lot of ifs.
If Brock still wants to marry me…
Marriage to Brock—the idea fills me with elation…and also with fear.
Why, though? Isn’t this what I wanted? A baby? A family? I always wanted a partner. And I am in love with the man.
The love I feel for Brock is almost…palpable. I love him so much that it hurts, but in an exquisite way.
My eyes fill with tears.
I don’t see it coming, don’t even feel it coming…but within seconds, I’m sobbing, sobbing so hard that I have to pull over onto the side of the road.
I weep and I sob and I cry, and then I flail around my car, searching for a tissue. I finally find an old one on the floor in the back seat.
One blow and it’s soaked.
I cry and I cry and I cry.
All of it.
It’s just all of it.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
BROCK
I don’t reply to my mother right away.
I may want to turn my back on my father?
How much do I still not know?
I want to ask her, but I don’t want to ask her with just as much intensity. So much is already going on. Do I really want to know more?
“I’d like to ask you something,” Mom says.
“I can’t. I can’t promise anything about my feelings for Dad.”
“No, I’m not asking about that. I want to talk to you about Rory Pike.”
Rory? Who I kicked out of my house earlier? I’ve cooled off, and I feel like shit about that. I need to call her. “Sure. What do you want to know?”
“She’s a lovely young woman.”
“She is.”
Of course we just had a doozy of a fight.
But I don’t really want to get into that.
“Her family’s been through a lot,” Mom says. “And she just broke up with someone. So…”
“What’s the question, Mom?”
“I guess I want to know if you and she are both in the same place.”
“You want to know if she’s on the rebound,” I say.
“Maybe she is and maybe she isn’t. But women are different from men, Brock.”
“Yeah, Mom, I know. I used to play post office.”
“You know very well what I mean.”
I sigh. “I asked her to marry me, okay? So that should tell you where I stand, at least.”
My mom drops her mouth open. “I’ve never known you to be serious about any woman.”
“I never was. Not until Rory. And I didn’t mean to be. But we got—”
“We? You mean she returns your feelings?”
“Yeah. She does.” Warmth surges through me at the thought, and for a moment, the argument we had no longer exists.