“Top floor?” I replied, the words coming out as more of a question than I’d intended.
“That’s right.”
“Okay. Thanks,” I mumbled, feeling suddenly flustered.
His grin widened. “Nice to finally meet you,Ara.”
A shiver moved down my spine at the way he pronounced my name. Like he was caressing it. He winked and I flushed, then anxious to put some space between us, hurried to the elevator. I jammed my thumb against the button, ignoring the prickling of my scalp that told me he was still staring at me.
The elevator dinged and the door slid open, and I stole a glance over my shoulder. The soldier grinned. Just before stepping inside, I caught a glimpse of his name tag. Ramirez was stitched in all capital letters.
I rode the elevator up in silence since I was alone and the Muzak apparently didn’t play after hours. Hilary had told me dinner would be served at the meeting, but I’d expected a few pizzas and maybe some pop – caffeine free, of course – and was totally unprepared for the savory smells that slammed into me when the elevator door opened on the third floor. The hum of low voices made me hesitate before stepping out, but only for a second because despite my irritation at being forced to attend this meeting, I was curious about the other women in the program. Would they be bitter like me, or happy and grateful? How many were here by choice? How many had done this before or would do it again once their required time was up? Would I actually find some support or even comfort by attending this required meeting?
There was only one way to find out.
A handful of women were gathered in the lobby where a buffet table had been set up. Covered metal pans lined the surface, plates on one side and utensils on the other, while another table held bottles of what I thought was champagne. Curious, I headed that way, and after only a few steps, the label came into view. Sparkling grape juice. Of course.
“Can I help you?”
The chipper voice pulled my attention from the bottles, and I turned to find an unfamiliar woman smiling at me. She was in her thirties and short with a pudgy midsection, but pretty in a simple kind of way, with light brown hair and large, friendly brown eyes.
“I’m here for the meeting,” I said, looking past her to take in the other women in the room.
There were five others, but only two of them were obviously pregnant. I instantly recognized the blonde from my last appointment – and from her shopping spree during the storm – and couldn’t stop from cringing. I really wasn’t looking forward to hearing how excited she was to be pregnant.
“You must be Arabella,” the woman who’d greeted me said, pulling my attention back to her.
“Ara, please.”
Her smile widened, revealing white teeth that were slightly crooked but in an endearing way. “Well, it’s nice to have you, Ara. You’re the last to arrive, which means we can get started.”
She waved her arm, gesturing toward the other women, and I moved to join their ranks even though it was away from the table of steaming food. I studied the others as I walked, focusing first on the three women who weren’t pregnant. Two looked to be about my age, but one seemed much younger. Nineteen, maybe, although she could have just had a youthful face. She was small, Asian, and very slim, so it was possible she was older. Still, something about her bright eyes and hopeful expression made me think she wasn’t.
The other two women looked as bitter as I felt.
One was white with overly blonde frizzy hair. More than a dozen tattoos snaked up her neck, peeked from the collar of her t-shirt, and decorated her arms, but none of them looked particularly well done. That, combined with the icy way her blue eyes darted around the room, made her appear hard and worn, and like someone who’d lived a rough life. I doubted she’d be talking all that much during the meeting if she could avoid it. The other non-pregnant woman was sturdy and black, with corn rows and sharp, intelligent brown eyes. She seemed as pissedoff as the blonde – although not as hard – and I instantly knew both of them would be allies in my hatred of the Department of Fertility as well as anyone associated with it.
Before I had a chance to study the two pregnant women, the woman who’d greeted me clapped her hands.
“It’s time for another group!” She was beaming, her eyes flashing like this was the most thrilling thing she’d ever experienced. “Who’s excited?”
I wasn’t facing the other women, so I couldn’t tell who did what, but I did note several snorts in addition to a soft murmur of agreement, which was barely drowned out by an enthusiastic, “Me!”
Did we have a former cheerleader in the group?
The woman I assumed was the leader or counselor or whatever, smiled wider. “Great! We have a new member this week, so before we start eating, I want to introduce her. I trust that once things get going, you’ll all take time to get to know her, make her feel welcome, and show her support. That’s what this group is all about, after all.” She waved to me and said, “Welcome, Arabella!”
A less than enthusiastic round of applause followed, which I allowed to die down before clearing my throat and saying, “Ara, please.”
The group leader gave me a large smile. “Of course! Like I said, the others will introduce themselves when we get going, but I’ll get my introduction out of the way so you can focus on what really matters. Okay?” She blinked, staring at me with wide eyes, her expression eager as she waited for my reply.
“Yeah. Okay.”
“Great.” She clasped her hands as she went on. “I’m Destiny Morrow, and not only am I a trained counselor who specializes in fertility issues, but I’m also a three-time program participant. After my husband and I had our own child five years ago, I felt called to help other couples who were desperate for a baby but unable to conceive. Three years ago, I gave birth a second time, and then again just six short months ago. It was hard, and there were a lot of emotions and doubts and concerns, but ultimately,I’m so thankful I was able to help two families adopt.” Her smile grew impossibly bright. “When I was in the program the first time, this support group helped me more than I can describe, which is why I’ve chosen to lead it. I hope you can find the same peace I did during your time with us.”
She paused when she’d finished, her smile plastered on her face, her eyes sparkling, her hands clasped, and her expression making it clear she was waiting for a response from me. Did all the people working for this program get the same creepy training? It seemed like it.
“Oh.” I coughed and said, “Thanks. I’m sure it will be great.”
