Page 23 of A Curse for the Homesick

MIFEPRISTONE

2017

Soren drove me to the doctor that weekend. I told him I could drive myself; it wasn’t like I was dying.

He said, “I am so utterly useless in this entire situation. Please just let me drive you.”

If I didn’t know what I’d wanted Henrik to say to Linnea, I certainly didn’t know what I wanted Soren to say to me. I would’ve been angry if he’d tried to make a decision for me, but I also found I was angry at his complete unwillingness to reveal any opinion on the matter.

He parked the car, but neither of us got out. I realized belatedly that his ankle must’ve started feeling better.

I’d already been here once. On Wednesday. I’d taken a test and scheduled a follow-up. The nurse had very kindly explained everything that would happen: I would take a dose of mifepristone at the hospital and then a dose of misoprostol at home two days later. Some women experienced cramping, but the nurse had assured me it wasn’t always bad. She’d said I should find something good on Netflix and make myself brownies. I’d said I would.

“Tess.”

I wasn’t sure how long I’d been sitting in the car; it felt like it might’ve been a while.

Soren took my hand lightly in his, like he thought I might pull away. I didn’t. I studied the length of his fingers, the veins in the back of his hand, the white-gold hair on his forearms. I tried to look at his face, the sharp jaw and the narrow lips and the thin nose, like we were strangers and I was seeing him for the first time, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t imagine not knowing him. For just a moment, I was savagely proud that my child was half his. Then the moment was gone and the guilt crashed in, and I felt once more like I was being punished for my bottomless well of want.

“You wish I was keeping it,” I told Soren.

“Excuse me?”

“You wish I wanted to keep the baby and that we’d stay here and get married and be like our parents.”

He let go of my hand. I could still smell his toothpaste.

“You’re not going to say anything,” I said. “Right.”

“I’m trying to figure out how to respond. I think that’s the worst thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Well, it’s true, isn’t it?”

“Of course it’s not true,” he said.

“So you want me to go in there?”

He looked like he wasn’t sure whether to be angry or confused, which made two of us. “Yes!”

“Well, you never said so. You never even asked what I was going to do.”

“Christ, Tess, you know this isn’t my first time meeting you? Of course you don’t want to have a child. Why do you think I would want that?”

“Because—you’re you.”

“What,” he said, “someone who seems like they’d really love to spend more time changing diapers?”

“Someone who stays here,” I said.

“Sometimes you sound just like a tourist.”

I winced. He looked away.

“The choice between being an engineer and having a kid isn’t actually binary,” he said. “Some people do both. Some people—and this may shock you—do neither.”

“I didn’t say I never wanted kids.”

“Of course you never want kids.”

“Okay,” I said. “Since you know me so well.”

I got out and slammed the door before he could respond, or not. I went into the hospital alone. After my first appointment, I’d expected the same nurse, so I was surprised when this time Anna came into the room with a pill in a wax paper cup. She was in bright yellow scrubs. Her expression was pleasant and practical and completely without pity, which made me feel better.

“Please don’t tell my dad,” I said.

“That would be illegal,” Anna said. “And also against my conscience. But he wouldn’t be upset with you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I don’t like the thought of him knowing I’ve had sex.”

“Ah,” Anna said. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I think he’s figured it out by now.”

I took the pill. I’d been worried I would feel an immediate wave of wrongness, but instead I felt rightness: like my body was being returned to its correct shape. Anna patted my shoulder comfortingly. I said I was sorry and that I wasn’t sure why I was crying.

“Maybe because it’s frightening to stand at a crossroads, no matter how sure you are which path is yours?” She gave me the second pill and my instructions to take it in two days’ time. “Is anyone here with you?”

“Soren’s in the car,” I said. And then, because I was still angry at him, I added, “Unless he’s decided to drive off.”

“Now you’re just fishing.”

“Fishing for what?”

“For me to tell you that if you think that boy would drive off, you have never paid attention to the way he looks at you.”

It was the word boy that did it. Made me start crying again. With relief, mostly. Because if I hadn’t taken that pill, she probably would’ve called him a man.

When I got back to the parking lot, Soren had not, in fact, decided to drive off. His head was bent against the steering wheel, but he looked up when I opened the door.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

I nodded and slid into the passenger seat. Shut the door again, cocooning us in silence.

“I just keeping thinking of the girls,” I said. My voice came out hoarse.

“The skelds?”

“I just keep thinking someone should’ve protected them.”

“There’s nothing anyone could’ve done,” he said.

“Except leave.”

Neither of us spoke for a minute. He ran his hands up and down the steering wheel. Outside, a man in a wheelchair was pushing himself toward the automatic doors.

“For the record,” Soren said, “even if I did want a kid right now, I never would’ve wanted you to have one. I love you a lot more than I could love the idea of a child.”

“You said you love me.”

“I know. On purpose and everything.”

I rested my temple against the headrest, looking at him. I reached out to push his hair off his forehead, and he took my hand and pressed his lips against my palm.

“You know I love you too, right?” I said.

He moved his thumb where his lips had been, running slow circles around the center of my hand. I wondered if he could tell I’d been crying.

“The last time we saw each other before you moved…” he started.

“I loved you then too.”

“Huh.”

“You haven’t really been in love with me since we were twelve,” I said.

“Oh, at least. That’s why I started reading so much. My mum said you were the smartest kid in our class and I had to read a lot if I wanted to impress you.”

“That’s not true.”

He shrugged like it didn’t much matter to him whether I believed his story or not. I didn’t, but then again, when I thought back, I couldn’t quite remember if I had always been infinitely aware of Soren or if it was just in retrospect that he occupied so much of my memory. I couldn’t remember exactly when I’d fallen in love with him any more than I could remember exactly when we’d met; it was more like it had been true from the start.

Casually, I said, “What if you came to California with me?”

He put the car in Reverse. Stretched one arm behind the back of my seat and looked over his shoulder, steering with just his palm flat against the wheel. As we turned left away from the hospital, I began to wonder if I had only imagined speaking.

“Yeah,” Soren said then. “Okay.”