I belted out a laugh. “He did not.”
“What’s so funny?” Owen asked, his own face stretched in a grin.
“Just that Trevor is dating someone who’s into marathons. I mean, you do know the guy has probably never even run a mile, right? I’ve actually heard him say that if a zombie apocalypsehappens, he’s going to throw himself at a horde, so he doesn’t have to run.”
It was Owen’s turn to laugh. “I’m well aware of his aversion to physical exertion, and while I hope to rub off on him a little, I think it’s cute.”
“Of course, you do,” I said. “You’re at the annoying part of a relationship when everything the other person does is cute. Don’t worry, it will wear off.”
Owen glanced at the doors again, and I could tell when he spotted Trevor – who was currently chugging a beer – because his smile softened. “I don’t know if it will.”
“Wow. So, you’re like really serious, aren’t you?”
He returned his attention to me. “I think I am.”
“Well, cheers to that.” I swiped up my glass and clinked it against his once again. After we’d both taken a drink, I said, “And I’m happy for you both. I haven’t seen Trevor this happy in a long time.”
Owen’s smile turned bashful. “Not to sound corny, but he’s not the only one who hasn’t been this happy in a long time.”
We lapsed into silence that wasn’t at all quiet since the party was still going full force outside. Cheers and laughter and talking floated in from the open door, accompanied by the boom of fireworks. I watched it play out for a few minutes, taking in the scene that was both familiar and oddly foreign, which was strange because Trevor had this party every Fourth of July and I always came. At first, I attributed the feeling to the fact that for the first time, I wasn’t drinking, but as I took in the group, I realized it was something else entirely. It was how many people were here, or how few, really.
“There’s usually a bigger crowd than this,” I said, nodding to the partygoers.
“Trevor said a lot of the usual people backed out because of the virus. They’re afraid it’s a new pandemic.”
I shifted my attention to Owen. “The virus?”
He gave me an incredulous look. “Haven’t you been paying attention to the news? It’s all over Europe and Asia and is projected to show up in the US any day. They’re calling it RNA-67.”
“Shit.” I wanted to kick myself for being so absorbed with my problems that I’d missed such a huge thing. “I remember hearing about it weeks ago, but I haven’t been keeping up with it. I’ve been too distracted, I guess.”
Owen’s expression softened yet again. “You have a good reason for that.”
“Yeah, I guess,” I muttered, feeling shaken by the news.
It wasn’t a surprise. The world had been holding its breath for a while now as it waited for another pandemic to creep up, and it wasn’t the first one I’d lived through, but with everything going on in my personal life, RNA-67 felt more ominous than any of the other pandemics I’d faced. Although I wasn’t sure why that was.
The monthof July flew by. Between trying to get through work with morning sickness and extreme fatigue and keeping up with my obligations to the program, like the support group – where I once again dodged Bette’s lunch invitation – and individual counseling, I was swamped. So busy that I didn’t even realize I’d reached ten weeks until my wristband dinged at eight o’clock that morning. I glared at the little fucker, wishing I could rip it off, and swore. The last thing I wanted to do today was see Hilary, but it was, unfortunately, unavoidable.
Since I wanted to get the whole thing over with, I went to the clinic before heading to work. Thankfully, I’d let Teresa know I was going to be late weeks ago but had no plans to skip the entire day. Why would I? If the morning vomiting and exhaustion couldn’t keep me away, bloodwork and an ultrasound wouldn’t either.
Vera was her typical sympathetic self when she checked my ID while the other security guards acted like they wanted to be anywhere but there, and Ramirez, as usual, couldn’t hold in his smirk when he saw me.
“How you doing this morning, Ara?” he asked as I waited for the elevator.
“As thrilled as always to be in your presence, Corporal Ramirez,” I replied in an overly sarcastic tone.
His grin stretched wider. “The pleasure is all mine, believe me.”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help smiling. If nothing else, he was a welcome distraction from all the awful people I had to deal with.
A ding sounded and the door opened, and I waved to the elevator. “This is my ride.”
“Have a good one,” he called as I stepped in.
Department of Fertility Barbie was at the desk when I exited the elevator on the third floor, and she brightened at the sight of me.
“Miss Murphy!” She clapped her hands excitedly the way teenagers did when they found out their friend’s crush liked them back, which contrasted so much with her age I almost laughed. “What a happy day! An ultrasound! Are you excited?”
