I rub my face and exhale, “Are you?”
“What’s important about today?”
Blinking to the clinic I reply, “If you don’t know then I’m not telling you,” and hang up as I see Troy approach, the double doors swinging open automatically.
“It’s time.” Having made this announcement, he turns around and the doors switch directions, jerking open again as the sensor feels his weight.
“Troy. Hold on a sec.”
He freezes. “I really want to get in there.”
“So you can decide whether or not you’re staying?”
He walks to me, causing them to shut completely, leaving us alone out here. “I don’t know.”
“Yeah you do.” We stare at each other until I tell him, “The defiance, it has no place.”
He cocks his head. “Defiance?”
“What I see in your eyes. You want this child to be yours but your actions show me you’re just a child yourself.”
“Do you want me to punch you again, Jack? Is that why you’re pushing my buttons?”
Walking past him I grunt, “I want you to be there for Marion today, that’s what I want.”
As I head inside with his footsteps delayed in following, I see her step out of the waiting room, eyes vulnerable like she doesn’t want to hurry us but also doesn’t want to be alone now that the test results have come back. By the time I get to her I hear his familiar gait. I’m not going to look over, why bother? He’s got his own shit to work out and I wish he’d just go away.
She is more important.
The baby is more important.
“I’m here.” Pulling her into my arms I quietly ask, “You okay?”
“I know you just went out for some air.” Marion tightens her arms around me. “But don’t leave me again.”
No need to remind her that it was her idea. That’s not what she needs. I can’t blame her brain for being wonky today. Mine is.
“I won’t leave again, Gorgeous. Ready?”
An involuntary shiver travels into her body and she nods, pulling back to lock eyes with Troy. Mar says nothing, and we follow her in. A nurse brings us into the doctor’s office where Troy and I remain standing to hear the news.
Dr. Morris clears his throat, scanning our faces. “I don’t usually have everyone here.”
Troy says, “Just tell us what you found out.”
Marion glares at him for a second. “Why don’t you leave?”
He blinks. “I want to be here.”
“I don’t want you to be.”
Softening, Troy realizes she’s serious. “Mar, I just—”
“—I know! And I’m sick of it. I don’t wanna be living under the threat of your absence anymore! Just make it real! Just go! I can’t stand the suspense. It’s fucked up. Abusive!”
“Marion…”
I speak up and all heads turn toward me. “Dr. Morris, is the child mine?”
Troy and Marion look at the doctor as his lips thin with discomfort. “I’d like to ask you both to leave so I can speak to the mother alone.”
Troy starts to object but I throw my arm out, hand flattening on his chest. His jaw clamps shut and we walk out of the room, him in the lead. I wanna keep my eye on him.
Before I close the door I lock eyes with the love of my life. “I’ll be right outside. I won’t leave. No matter what.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
MARION
Turning around in my chair, I grip the arms, waiting.
Dr. Morris relaxes, one hand adjusting a frame on his desk, the photograph out of my eye line. Not that I want to see it. I can’t think of anything else except what he’s going to say to me. How it will change my life.
Dear God, please…
My knuckles hurt I’m squeezing so hard.
“Ms. Bogdonavitz.”
“Marion.”
“…I didn’t want this any more stressful for you than it has to be. I’ll be honest, because of your profession and subsequent bodyweight, this pregnancy might be difficult for you. You’re going to have to eat more substantially, and you will be putting on weight.”
One of my hands flies up. “Duh.”
He pauses. “It’s my business to warn you of these things.”
“Great.“
Another pause, because he doesn’t know how to handle somebody like me. Most people don’t. “I have dealt with many women who have eating disorders.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t have one. I’m just a ballerina. This is how we look. Can you please now tell me who the father is? Because I don’t think I can take the suspense anymore. And if you want to not stress me out, then lay it on me. I’m ready. Although I’m glad you told them to step out because I really cannot take any more of his bullshit. Whose is it?”
The doctor tells me, and my heart being the illogical thing that it is, falls.
I stand up, walk to the door and numbly mutter out of habit, “Thanks.”
Dr. Morris says something but it evaporates.
In the waiting room Troy and Jack are alone except for the nurse typing away, fingers pausing as she spots me.
She might already know, and I hate her for that. So I walk past them all, Jack and Troy following me down the long hallway until we are outside.
Is this what fresh air tastes like now that my life has changed? Is this the same air that Jack breathed when he needed a moment alone? Did he mean it when he said he wouldn’t leave? No matter what?
As the double doors swoosh behind them, Jack and Troy space themselves apart to hear the verdict. I look at my Viking and tell him, “Jack was right. It isn’t yours.”
A hurricane of emotions overtakes Troy’s body.
Jack closes his eyes for a brief moment and drops his gaze to the sidewalk as he waits.
Will he really stay?
Does he want to be a father?
Am I alone?
I can’t lose him.
If I have to lose one, it can’t be Jack.
I know that now.
Troy nods acceptance. My throat is dry, a lump of anger and hurt stuck inside.
“Let’s go home,” Jack says, voice somber.
The three of us walk to his Tesla, the preferred vehicle of late. He has thirty to choose from, but this one is his favorite. A confirmed bachelor gave up his free lifestyle to be with me. But to raise his baby? Would he really be all in?
It’s a four-door and as Troy starts to get in the back, he pauses and looks to the clinic.
I slide into the passenger seat up front, my heart beat frozen. Is he coming? I want to ask, but I’m too proud. The engine is silent, and I can hear Jack’s breathing. He reaches over and takes my hand, squeezing it.
Behind us, Troy gets in. I exhale and Jack takes hold of the wheel with both hands to guide the car home.
On the welcome mat are two dozen pink roses delivered in a vase. I lift them and read the card:
More in love with you every day. Jack.
He pauses, key in the lock, and looks at me. We don’t know what’s going to happen next and we’re not cool with that. Ambiguity doesn’t fit our personalities.
Troy is slow moving as he walks up, eyes on the flowers, jaw clenched. Motioning for me to walk in ahead of him, he waits and plays the gentleman. It doesn’t occur to me until I’m already inside that he usually doesn’t open doors for me. We have more of a friends-peers-brother-sister vibe, but with sex added. Always have. The gesture is formal rather than romantic, today.