Thirty-Seven
Either Minder Jane had been grateful for the break from me, had expected me to skip my shift after my test, or Hilary had let her know I wasn’t in a good place, because no one came looking for me. Which I was thankful for.
I spent the day in my room, hiding. The news that I was going to be inseminated again in just a few weeks had made me lose my appetite, and I didn’t even care that I missed breakfast, then lunch, then dinner. All I wanted to do was lie in bed and cry, which was how I spent the whole day. I was so emotionally exhausted by the time night came that I couldn’t wait for sleep.
I woke the next morning with a growling stomach and a new determination to show Hilary and all the other minders just how strong I was. They couldn’t best me. No one could.
A knock sounded just as I was about to head out, and I opened the door to a very exhausted looking Bette. The circles under her eyes and lack of smile were quite possibly the only things that could have distracted me from my own problems. She looked awful.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m in hell,” she said, her twang more pronounced than usual. “I can’t sleep because I’m having contractions all night, but the doctor keeps telling me I’m not in active labor even though I’m dilated two centimeters. I don’t know how much longer I can do this.”
She was still two weeks from delivery and already two centimeters but not in labor? I had no idea such a thing was possible.
Trying to stay positive, I said, “It has to happen soon.”
“Not soon enough.” Bette slumped against the doorframe. “I’m beat, Ara. I don’t know how I’m going to get through labor when I can’t even sleep.”
For a second, I was at a loss as to what to do, but seeing the tears in her eyes, I reacted without thinking and threw my arms around her. “I’m so sorry, Bette.”
She sniffed. “I’m being a baby, I know, but it wasn’t this hard last time. I wasn’t this uncomfortable, and I was actually able to sleep. I’m starting to understand how zombies feel.”
I let out a bitter laugh as I pulled back. “That’s not the kind of apocalypse we’re in, but I get what you’re saying.”
“You know what I mean,” Bette said, rolling her eyes.
She looked at her wristband and her mouth scrunched up. “We should go eat. Minder Hilary has been on my ass about every meal. She just can’t get it through her head that I don’t have any room in my body for food. Seriously, I think I might end up hitting that woman!”
I laughed for real as we started down the hall. “Can I watch?”
“I’ll sell tickets,” Bette grumbled.
To my surprise, and annoyance, Marc was in the dining room when Bette and I arrived. Since he rarely worked there, I could only assume he’d wanted to check on me. The intense way he watched me confirmed my suspicion.
Having his eyes on me was so unnerving that I couldn’t concentrate on a single thing Bette or Malika – who had for some reason decided to join us – were saying until the latter exclaimed, “Well, I guess I should share the news with everyone before group since Hilary is sure to spill the beans. As of yesterday, I’m ten weeks pregnant.”
Bette’s eyes widened but she said nothing. I was pretty sure she didn’t know what to say, which was understandable since she and Malika weren’t on the best terms. I, on the other hand, knew exactly how to respond.
“To getting the hell out of this program,” I said, lifting my water glass.
Malika’s upper lip curled, but she lifted her own cup, clinked it against mine and said, “And to telling them all to go to hell.”
“We should have toasted to them actually going to hell,” I replied, “but that sounds nice, too.”
Malika smirked.
We talked about anything but pregnancy the rest of breakfast. Malika because she didn’t want to think about it and Bette because she was trying to focus on anything but how uncomfortable she felt. It made for awkward conversation because Malika was still mostly a stranger to us. She sat with us, traded derisive looks with me, and wasn’t unfriendly, but I got the impression she didn’t want to form connections. I understood. Most of us wanted this part of our lives to be erased from our memories as soon as it was finished.
Marc watched me the whole time. Seeing him in the dining room when I first stepped in had thrown me, but having him staring at me made it nearly impossible to act normal. It didn’t end when breakfast was over, either, because he was still there while I helped clean up. Still watching. Still getting under my skin.
I was so unnerved that even Vic felt the need to bring it up.
“What’s going on with you?” they asked as we collected piles of dirty dishes. “You’re as jumpy as a grasshopper.”
I tried to shrug the comment off even though I could feel Marc’s gaze boring into the back of my head. “It’s just been a shitty couple days. You know.”
“More like a shitty couple weeks,” Vic retorted. “And I get it. I mean, you weren’t here yesterday, so I assumed there’s been some development.”
