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I want to hold back, but I have to tell her. Holding all this information inside me is just too much.
“Yes! Yes I did!” I finally admit. “I mean, it was more like dating. Like, he came over. We talked… He came to the gallery opening.”
“Oh, that is a surprise!” she nods avidly. “You know, he never does that. He’s practically a hermit. Everybody kind of hates him for that.”
“Hates him for what?” I ask, confused.
“Well, you know,” she shrugs. “I mean, with the treatments and all, and him being a bachelor, there was a whole line of ladies who thought they had potential. But he just doesn’t date. It’s unprofessional, he says. He is all business.”
Didi glances down at the pregnancy test, then covers it with the palm of her hand.
“So, are you guys a thing? Like, a secret thing? Are you going to go visit him, or just do dirty Skypes or something?”
“Oh! No, it’s nothing like that. It was just a temporary thing, because I was only going to be in town for a minute. He’s not even there anymore.”
“What?”
“He went to Costa Rica to do charity surgeries. Seriously.”
“Are you kidding? He’s gone?”
“Yeah… it’s all right. I mean, it was just a temporary thing. He probably just figures I am one of those million women who are trying to snag a doctor anyway. It’s all right.”
Didi nods slowly, breathing out through her nose. She glances down at her hand meaningfully and I follow her gaze as she removes her palm, leaving the pregnancy test exposed on the edge of the sink.
Two bars.
Holy shit.
I’m having a baby?
Chapter 19
Joe
“Okay, do you have his number in Costa Rica?”
“Didi, no,” I cut her off, tapping the arm rest of the back seat of the Uber.
“Oh, right, I guess it would just be his regular phone number,” she sighs distractedly. “Why don’t you call him now? I will be here for support.”
“No. Stop.”
“What do you mean, stop?” she huffs. “Are you not going to tell him? I mean… Wait. What if I hadn’t found out? Were you even going to tell me?”
My mind is spinning. There’s so much to figure out. Pregnant? Me?
I’ve been on the pill since I was fourteen. Having children is not on my horizon, much less something I’ve actually workshopped as far as figuring out what I would say to the imaginary father, to the imaginary employer, and which of my friends would find out and in which order.
This is insanity.
“Joe? Would you have told me?”
“Of course I would’ve told you. Please keep your voice down.”
Her eyes flicker toward the Uber driver. “I really don’t think she cares. But I do. What is the plan, Joanna? You are always fifteen steps ahead of everybody. What are we gonna do?”
What can I do? Can I see myself in this Manhattan gallery, nine months pregnant? Bring my baby to work during the day? Single mother… Yes. I can do that. It’s a surprise, but there are so many inspiring stories of single mothers out there. I could find a way.
