“Yeah,” she said, looking sheepish. “I’m such a ditz sometimes. I forgot.”
“I wish I could,” I said wistfully, closing the shower curtain.
I could hear Melissa muttering under her breath about being an airhead before she closed the bathroom door behind her.
By the time I was finished in the bathroom, Melissa was already gone. I found another of her famous sticky notes on my dresser, apologizing for her “airheadiness.” I laughed at her made-up word. Despite everything going on in my life at the moment, I had to love Melissa. She was the one constant that kept me grounded. I didn’t know what I would have done if I didn’t have her to lean on.
Grabbing a pen, I scrawled a short return message, telling her not to be a dork, that I loved her “airheadiness” and all. I lugged my heavy book bag off the floor and dug around inside, trying to find my wallet. The pamphlets I had collected from the clinics made it damn near impossible to find anything, so I pulled them out. Sorting through them, I tossed anything dealing with STDs and safe sex into the trash can. In the end, I only kept three: one that provided a breakdown of the nine months of pregnancy, one that discussed adoption, and one about abortion. I couldn’t help grimacing at the captions and pictures of the pregnancy pamphlet. I wasn’t a wimp, but the idea of pushing a watermelon-sized human out of my body didn’t sit well. The one picture that really twisted my guts into knots showed a glowing woman holding her newborn baby in her arms. For weeks I’d refused to think about what was actually happening in my body and what I would have if I went through all nine months of pregnancy. Looking at the picture of the mother holding her baby, everything suddenly got real. In seven and a half months, that could be me. The idea frightened me to the core, but a small part of me couldn’t help feeling awestruck at the idea. My life would never be the same if I kept the baby. Everything I had worked for would change in the blink of an eye.
Next, I opened the pamphlet dealing with adoption. It was nothing but testimonials by couples who claimed my child could be the miracle they so desperately wanted. I studied their faces critically. I could go that route. I could make a difference in someone’s life. Maybe I could work it out with the school and not lose my scholarship. If I took summer classes, I could lighten my load in the fall when the baby would be due. It was at least worth checking into.
Feeling more in control than I had in weeks, I placed the pregnancy and abortion pamphlets in my bag. I debated pitching the abortion pamphlet but instead tossed it on my desk. I wasn’t completely sure which route I would choose, and I could at least read over it when I got home.
I headed out for the party, ready to escape all the heavy decisions that seemed to be saturating the room. The walk to Jacob’s apartment off campus was relatively short, and the place was easy enough to find by the noise level throbbing out of the building. I felt sympathetic to any of his neighbors who weren’t invited to the party, although judging by the number of people littered throughout the hallway and into his apartment, it looked like the whole building was there.
Loud music made the floor beneath my feet vibrate as I looked around for Jacob. Pushing into his apartment through the wall of bodies was almost overwhelming. Someone I didn’t even know handed me a red Solo cup filled to the brim with beer. My stomach turned as the smell of the beer wafted up. Trying not to breathe through my nose, I handed the cup to a willing stranger, who sucked it down like a parched survivor on a deserted island. To avoid any other alcohol handouts, I shoved my hands in my jacket pockets as I continued in vain to search for Jacob. >“I’ll support you no matter what you decide,” Melissa said, placing an arm around my shaking shoulders. I wasn’t even aware I was sobbing until I felt her arm around me.
Melissa sat up with me the entire night as I alternated between tears and staring off into space. She was uncharacteristically quiet with none of her usual glee anywhere to be found. My bleakness seemed to have sucked everything out of us both.
By the next morning I had no more tears left to cry. I moved lethargically through the day from a lack of sleep. Melissa’s promise that Justin would come to his senses never surfaced. My phone remained silent as one day trickled into two and then bled into three days.
Melissa stopped asking if I’d heard from him by the end of the second day. I made her promise not to tell Rob, which I knew was selfish. Rob was Justin’s best friend. By forcing her silence, I was making her compromise her own relationship. She never complained, even though I could see it was wearing on her judging by her lack of typical enthusiasm.
A full week after Justin and I broke up, I finally went to a walk-in clinic. I took a bus to the other side of town so no one would know me. The doctor was kind and understanding as she confirmed what I already knew. She gave me literature on my diet and sample packs of prenatal vitamins that she said were important for the baby. Discussing it with a doctor made everything seem much more real. My head spun as she continued on about stretch marks and birthing plans and the delivery. Through it all, I nodded like I was listening, but my mind was elsewhere. When I was ready to leave, she gave me a list of doctors to choose from that all took my insurance. Thrusting everything she handed me into my bag, I thanked her and fled from the clinic.
It took several blocks before I was able to digest everything the doctor had mentioned. It all seemed so final, like I had no choices. I began to feel caged in. Pulling my phone out, I reluctantly typed the one thing I never thought I would into the search engine. The map indicated the planned pregnancy clinic was two miles away. During the walk, I didn’t allow myself to think about where I was headed. Instead, I filled my head with mundane thoughts as if this were any other day.
When I finally arrived at my destination, I stared at the nondescript building in front of me with morbid fascination. It was a far cry from what I would have pictured. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I had been expecting a seedy, drab building that could only be accessed through an equally dark and dreary alleyway. Not a place that could have housed something as normal as a real estate office. As a matter of fact, I checked the address one last time to make sure I was in the right spot. Pulling the door open, I nearly gasped when I saw the crowded waiting area. At least everyone inside seemed to have the same idea of remaining as inconspicuous as possible. I kept my eyes averted as I approached the long counter with one small window.
“Can I help you?” the middle-aged woman beyond the glass asked without looking up.
“I’d like to speak with someone,” I said nervously.
“Sign in and we’ll call you back in a while,” she replied as she continued to type on her computer. “Make sure you have payment ready.”
“Uh-huh,” I stammered, unsure of what I was doing here. I wasn’t ready for this yet. I’d just needed to make sure there were other options. “Can I just have a pamphlet or something?” I asked, finally able to form a coherent sentence.
“On the far wall between the bathrooms is all the literature you’ll need,” she said, still not looking up.
Thanking her for her limited help, I made my way to the wall of brochures. Without bothering to read any of their titles, I shoved one of each into my purse, not caring whether they were about STDs, safe sex, or options beyond abortion. The safe sex literature seemed a little like hindsight considering that if anyone in this room had practiced safe sex, none of us would be here now. Cramming the last of the brochures into my bag, I hurried from the building like a bank robber fleeing the scene of a crime. The anxiety I felt haunted me for several blocks as I moved as fast as my legs could muster. I wanted as much distance between the abortion clinic and me as possible. One thing I learned was that returning would be nearly impossible.
27.
Present Day
4:17 PM
“Did you ever consider the possibility that I would want to know?” Justin asked.
“Of course I did,” I sighed, pulling my bag to my lap. I held it tightly as if it could shield me from his questions.
“But you decided my opinion wasn’t important enough, or maybe you knew I would talk you out of it.”
“I was going to tell you. That last date we had, when you accused me of being vacant, I’d just taken the pregnancy test. I was going to tell you and then you were suddenly breaking up with me.”
My eyes met his without flinching. I had provided one of the pieces from the puzzle of confusion. I could see him mentally sliding it into place. Because I knew him as well as I did, the remorse hidden behind his handsome features was evident, even if for a moment.
“You had plenty of time to tell me after that day,” he said stubbornly, not wanting to own up to his part in the blame game.