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I swallow the food in my mouth first. The question puzzles me. I thought I’d made it clear to Peter that I was putting it all behind me, focusing on my work, and getting ready to be a mom.
“I’m not expecting them to. A mistake happened, that’s all. I’ve moved on, and so has Alec,” I say.
“It’s different for Alec,” Peter says. “He has nothing to lose in this whole business. The loser is you, Ivy.”
His intensity takes me aback.
“I don’t see how having a baby makes me a loser.” My tone is cold.
“That’s not what I mean, and you know that,” Peter continues. “I mean that you’re the one who has sacrificed everything because of the clinic’s mistake. You should not let them get away with this.”
“What do you suggest I do?” I’m not interested in getting back at the clinic, and I only say this to humor Peter. I don’t want to dismiss his concerns and hurt his feelings. He is my friend, and I know in all this, he’s on my side.
“Sue them or sell this story to a magazine. It would tarnish the clinic’s reputation and maybe even finish them.”
I shudder and look at Peter like a stranger. “Why so much anger, Peter? I don’t want to tarnish the clinic’s name. They do a lot of good work, you know. I admit I wasn’t too pleased with them for giving me the wrong sperm, but it’s all worked out well, and that’s what matters now. Right?”
Peter nods, but he doesn’t seem happy. Frankly, his feelings about this don’t matter. As he rightly pointed out, I’m the one whose life was affected by the clinic’s mistake. But to me, it’s not a mistake anymore. I’m carrying Alec’s baby, and that makes me happy.
“Look Peter, I know you mean well, but I’m okay and excited about being a mother. Don’t focus on the past. It doesn’t matter now. Let’s talk about something else.”
I’m relieved when Peter smiles and then changes the topic. “How is the writing going?”
Happiness radiates through me. “Oh Peter, it’s going great. I finished writing the next two chapters and sent them to my editor. I’m waiting to hear from her. I’m nervous and excited at the same time.”
“Hey, no need to be nervous. You’re a good writer, and I know you did a good job,” Peter says.
“I hope so.”
We keep to neutral topics for the rest of lunch, and when we part ways later, I walk back home while Peter heads to work for a briefing about his next project. I’m in a very good mood, and I hum as I walk. It feels good to be alive.
Back in the house, I settle down to get some work done. Ten minutes in, my cell phone vibrates. It’s Ariana, the no-nonsense, tough editor I’ve been assigned to by the publishing house. My palms instantly dampen, and I dry them over my pants before answering the phone.
“Hi, Ariana,” I say cheerfully.
“Ivy, how are you,” she says in a tone that’s not quite friendly.
Panic comes over me. Is she about to drop some bad news on me, like the publishing house doesn’t want to work with me anymore? Maybe they’ve decided that I’m an amateur and they’re used to working with professionals. Imposter syndrome sets in, and I start to shake.
“I’m fine, thank you.”
“I’ll get into my reason for calling. I’ve read the chapters you sent in, and I had the acquisitions editor read them as well. We are not happy.”
Tears flood my eyes. I clutch the phone tighter than I should. “What’s the problem?”
“The problem is that it doesn’t feel real. Not the hospital setting and not the doctor interns. It’s lacking that magic that caught our attention the first time.”
That’s the very thing I’ve been afraid of. I don’t blame Ariana for what she’s saying, I didn’t feel those chapters either when I wrote them. Dang! Now what? Is my writing career over even before it starts?
“This just won’t cut it,” she murmurs as papers ruffle in the background.
I fight down the scream of panic rising up my throat. I’m pregnant, and I don’t have another job. I need this to work out.
“Can I give you some advice?” She waits for a beat, then continues without waiting for my response. “Go to a hospital and follow some of the doctors around, the way actors do when preparing for a role. Get a feel for a hospital setting and the relationships between doctors.”
I nod but quickly realize she can’t see me. “I will.” Alec and his brothers come to mind. Surely, they’ll let me shadow them if I ask really nicely.
“Good. I look forward to reading what you come up with,” she says, and after a brisk goodbye, she disconnects the call.
