Pausing at the door, she smiles at me.
“That tiny human might still be a little too tiny for our machines to pick it up,” she explains. “But how about you come back in a week so we can go over your bloodwork, and we’ll see if we can’t catch ‘em on camera.”
I nod, sighing with relief—a week. I can wait a week.
After slipping back into my clothes and hugging Nurse Alisha (my new best friend) one last time, I walk down the hallway and back to the real world, feeling more confident than I have since the moment I saw those two pink lines.
I can do this.Wecan do this.
***
Standing in the vitamin aisle at the local pharmacy, my eyes scan the shelves for the brand of prenatal vitamin the doctor recommended. I can feel eyes on me, and when I look up, I see two girls I went to high school with standing at the end of the aisle, whispering to each other. When I wave, they quickly avert their eyes and hurry over to the next aisle.
“Okay, weirdos,” I mutter to myself, resuming my search for the vitamins. Once I find them, I hum triumphantly, throwing them into the handheld basket and heading for the checkout. Hushed voices stop me in my tracks.
“I’m just saying, it’s odd that she’s looking at pregnancy stuff.”
“Like, didn’t her husband just die? How is she already pregnant?”
“Do you think she was cheating on him?”
Shock sucks the air from my lungs, immediately followed by embarrassment. I love living in my small town, but sometimes there are moments that make me want to move into the city and escape into anonymity.
Embarrassment is quickly replaced by a cold rage.
Who in the hell do these bitches think they are?
Whipping around, I stalk toward the aisle the women disappeared to when I caught them staring.
“Excuse me,” I say loudly, causing them to jump. “If you have questions for me, I’m happy to answer them.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” one of them replies, feigning innocence.
“Okay, well, just to clear the air–yes, my husbanddidjust die. No, I didnotcheat on him. I’msosorry that my being pregnant with my dead husband’s child has made you uncomfortable.”
Both women go red in the face, quickly stammering out apologies and explanations, but I cut them off with a sickly sweet, mildly threatening smile.
“In the future, please let me know if there isanythingI can do to makeyoufeel better. It’s not like I’m busy, oh I don’t know, grieving an unimaginable loss.”
Without waiting for a response, I turn on my heel. Angrily shoving the vitamins into a bag at self-checkout, I storm out of the pharmacy, still shaking with anger. All the joy I felt after the appointment has evaporated.
It never occurred to me that people would have opinions about this, let alone negative ones. I guess even pregnant widows aren’t exempt from small-town gossip.
This is going to be a long nine months.
Chapter 7
Jack
Eight Weeks
Abby’s name flashes across my phone screen, and I reach for it as I take a long drink from the cold coffee I made hours ago but keep forgetting to drink.
“Hey, what’s up?”
No words come from the other line, just sobbing.
My mug drops onto my desk, coffee seeping through the cracks onto the carpet below.
