“You got that appointment you told me about earlier this week today?”
I didn’t answer right away.
“Truth?”
“Yeah, Mama.”
Silence.
Then, “You need me to come with you?”
My throat tightened.
“No. I’m good.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
Another pause.
“Alright then. There’s coffee if you want it.”
Her footsteps faded down the hallway.
I sat in the dim light of my childhood bedroom, surrounded by posters I’d never taken down and a dresser that didn’t close all the way, and tried to breathe through the panic rising in my chest.
I could do this.
Ihadto do this.
The $50,000 was already in my account. I’d checked it seventeen times since I deposited the money. Fifty thousand dollars that I didn’t have to split with Phillip, didn’t have to explain to bill collectors, didn’t have to apologize for.
It was mine.
And all I had to do was let them turn my body into a science project for nine months.
I got dressed slowly—jeans, a T-shirt, sneakers. Nothing fancy. Nothing that saidI’m about to let a doctor I’ve never met stick needles in me so a man I barely know can have a baby.
Mama was sitting at the kitchen table when I came out, her coffee mug cradled in both hands.
She looked up.
“You eat?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You should eat.”
“Mama.”
“I’m just saying.” She took a sip of her coffee. “You look nervous.”
“I’m fine.”
“Mm-hmm.”
I grabbed my purse from the counter and checked for my ID, my phone, and the insurance card I only had a few weeks of eligibility left on.
