Page 44 of Daddy to Go

Abby

It’s been two months. Two very long, painful months. I wish I could say that I had gotten over Ryder, moved on, and become cheery and happy again. But that would be a lie and I’ve had just about enough lies over the last couple months to last me the rest of my life. Of course, according to Mary, dating and lies seem to go hand-in-hand. That was exactly the kind of thing I did not need to hear while I wondered if I would continue to be single forever.

It’s sad, really. At first, when this all went down, I was in denial. I tried calling Doctor McNamara’s office, hoping that they would give me Ryder’s new contact info. Of course, that was silly because they couldn’t legally give me that information even if they wanted to. I sounded like a stalker too. After all, what was I going to do? Get my car in drive to another state just to confront him? Actually, I probably would have done that if I knew where he was. But no, they told me that Doctor Rivington was gone, and that they couldn’t forward his contact information to me.

Instead, they offered to let me see Doctor McNamara for treatment. But I declined because what was I going to sit there and talk to her about? How I fell in love with her replacement, had sex on the table in her office, and then ended up being jilted and ghosted by the very same man? They would have his license, and I would become some poor, broken “victim” in the headlines. I didn’t want that, not with the #MeToo movement raging.

Nor did I want to call unnecessary attention to myself because lately, I’ve been feeling sick. It’s been two months since Ryder left without a word, and now, I feel queasy. I stood in my bathroom, barefoot, sweat on my forehead, and with the taste of vomit in the back of my throat. When I first started feeling nauseous a few days before, I thought maybe I caught the flu. The lady behind me at work was constantly coughing, and had also complained about an upset stomach for two weeks. I had battened down the hatches, and gotten my blankets and my tea, ready to wait it out.

However, the third time I made a mad dash for the bathroom, something caught my eye as I hovered over the portal to porcelain hell. It was unusually innocuous, a box sitting on my shelf, minding its own business. But this time around, when I saw that box of Tampax, my sweat covered hair flew back and I grabbed it, shaking it wildly in front of me as the unopened plastic tubes bounced all over the floor. I’m pretty sure in that moment there were sounds of agony reverberating through the entire apartment.

It had been two months since Ryder left, and exactly two months since I had had a period. I counted the days on my calendar ten or eleven times before I realized that no matter how many times I counted them, I was still going to come up with the same number. And as that crumpled paper calendar fell from my hands onto the floor, I instantly lost all ability to use my brain. The only thing I was able to do was call Mary.

“I think this is the second time that I’m going to say this in the last couple months but you really need to calm down because I can’t understand anything you’re saying,” Mary said listening to me sobbing on the other end of the phone. “All I got was something about your heart; something about a crushed box of tampons; and somewhere in there was the lovely sound of you heaving into the toilet. Either you’ve decided to commit some sort of strange form of seppuku, or something tragic has happened.”

Taking in a long deep breath, I calmed myself down and leaned against the counter, feeling the nausea hitting me again. “I thought I had the flu. Maybe I still have the flu. But I haven’t had a period in two months and now I’m puking my brains out.” For the first time in our friendship, Mary was oddly silent. “Mary? Did you hear me?”

She started to breathe again. “Sorry, had to collect myself since I seem to be the only rational person in our friendship these days. Okay, this is what I want you to do. You know how you cleaned me out a drawer in the bathroom on the left-hand side for when I spend the night?”

My eyes shifted over to her drawer which she had covered in sparkly unicorn stickers. “Uh-huh.”

“Good,” she replied sternly. “Go in the drawer, and underneath my makeup case is a pregnancy test. And before you ask, yes, I keep one in the drawer because you never know when you might just need one. Case in point, today.”

I walked over to the drawer and pulled it open, lifting up a makeup bag to find just that, a pregnancy test. I held the box in my shaking hands, my heart beating wildly. “So I just take off the cap, pee on the stick, and then wait?”

“You need me to come over there?”

I shook my head sniffling. “No. I got this. I’m going to take it and then I’ll call you back when I know something.”

“All right, good luck,” Mary replied cheerfully.

I was pretty sure I could hear a tremor in her voice. She was finding my ventures into the dating world to be slightly comedic, yet also horrifying. Maybe it was because she’s been through it all. It was a good thing for me though, as now I had a tour guide to walk me through it.

Tearing open the package I pulled out the stick and the instructions. I unfolded the pamphlet and looked at the pictures about how to pee on the stick and how long to wait. I wrote down the time and then shoved the pamphlet back in the box. I knew enough about pregnancy tests to know that a plus sign meant yes and a negative sign meant no.

I took the cap off and hovered over the toilet, attempting not to pee on myself. I counted out loud trying to get the perfect amount on the absorbent tip, put the cap on it, and carefully placed it on the small shelf next to me. After cleaning myself up, I turned away from the counter, not wanting to see it until it was absolutely, positively done.

My brain was screaming at me at that point. I should have realized the possibility that I was pregnant. I was so used to being a virgin though, and missing a period didn’t seem strange to me at all. I wasn’t a girl who got her period every twenty-eight days. I was the girl that had a visit from Aunt Flo every thirty days, sometimes every forty-five days, and sometimes twice a month. It really just depended. So when my time of the month didn’t happen, I honestly didn’t even notice. It wasn’t until I saw that box of tampons that I realized it had been a little over two months, which spelled trouble.

It was a harsh realization. It definitely was nothing like the commercials on TV where a woman jumps up and down with joy upon seeing her pregnancy test while her husband waits outside. There was certainly no man in the picture for me. It was just another depressing story in my life.

Plus, it was strange being the one waiting for the test results. With Mary, I had been on the other end of things multiple times. Mary was a bit of a hypochondriac when it came to pregnancy. If she was even an hour late for her period, she was peeing on a stick and freaking out. They always came back negative because she’s been on birth control since middle school. Her mother saw the wild child in her before shewasa wild child. Smart woman.

But there I was, pacing back and forth in front of my mirror, halfway talking to myself, and trying to keep my mind off the pink and blue stick sitting on the shelf. It was amazing how such a small item struck fear into the bravest of women’s hearts. Honestly, I really wasn’t that afraid. No, the rapid beating of my heart in my chest, and the wild butterfly feeling in the pit of my stomach was more anxiety than it was fear. I was trying my best not to allow my brain to start rolling down avenues of the unforeseen. I wanted to know what that test said before I started thinking about potential ramifications.

After all, there were two sides to everything. On one hand, I was elated. I had fallen in love with Ryder, and that was no secret. From our first steamy meeting at the gynecologist’s office, to our warm days on the beach and hot nights in the hotel on vacation, I was head over heels for him. Not only was he my first, but we connected on a level that I didn’t think was possible between men and women. At least not from what I had seen in terrible chick flicks.

Plus, the sex was absolutely amazing. Every single time we made love, it was full of passion. Even on vacation when we made love multiple times, the passion was always there. It surged through me every time he put his hands on me, and even now, standing in the bathroom, I could feel that intensity again, hitting me low in the belly.

As a result, I knew that our baby was conceived with love. And while not planned, he or she was not a mistake either. We were two consenting adults that chose not to use protection, and with Ryder’s child, I would have a wonderful reminder of this gorgeous man. Call me childish or naïve but that’s just how I felt in the pit of my stomach.

On the other hand, what the hell was I thinking? I’m an underemployed high school graduate who lives in the apartment above her mother’s garage. How in the world would I support a baby? I’m barely even getting by right now. I have no career prospects, and no hope of furthering my education either. So how would the child and I scrape by?

At that moment, the phone buzzed on the counter and I picked it up, putting it to my ear. As expected, Mary was on the other side.

“So are you carrying the doctor’s illegitimate child? Is this anotherDays of Our Lives? I feel like you could be part of a soap opera except you aren’t rich and you haven’t had an affair with a hot shirtless Spanish man named Rico who speaks zero English.”

A soft chuckle came from my chest, cutting through the hurt and pain I was feeling.