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It was so strange. Jonathan could be brusque, but he was never rude and demanding like this. If anything, he sounded like Mikhail when Mikhail was talking back to a teacher or administrator. I wondered if my brother was trying to channel his friend to sound as intimidating as possible to take control of the situation.
“Funny you should mention that,” the doctor said, looking at the three of us over his glasses. “I was coming in to suggest an ultrasound.”
My mom gaped. “An ultrasound? For what?”
“Your daughter’s underweight and dehydrated, especially for being pregnant,” the doctor remarked.
Everything in the room seemed to come to an abrupt halt as everyone swiveled around to stare at me. I couldn’t be sure of what my own face was doing. And since I couldn’t stare at myself, I watched the doctor, wondering if it was maybe some kind of joke.
“I take it you didn’t know,” the doctor said gently. “Sadie, we’ve hopefully mitigated your symptoms. You’re going to need to take better care of yourself from now on. I’ll be back in a few minutes — I’ll leave you all to absorb this and discuss the next steps.”
The curtain swooshed shut again, and I was a little sorry. The doctor felt like my only ally.
My mom covered her face with her hands. “Pregnant? How could this be?”
“I’m pretty sure you know exactly how this happened,” Jonathan sighed. He gave me a hard look. “Who did this?”
“It doesn’t matter now,” I said, feeling tired and oddly relieved. Something had been wrong with me, but now I had an answer. And there was nothing wrong about it at all. If Mikhail was gone from my life forever, at least I could have this — some part of him he couldn’t take away from me.
“This whole time we thought you were just sad about Misha,” my mother said, her voice muffled through her hands. “But you were pregnant! And not even taking care of yourself! Did you know?”
“Not until now,” I admitted, my voice unsteady. It had been about Mikhail. And now this was too. “I guess it makes sense. I should be taking vitamins or something.”
“Or something?” my mom exclaimed with a horrified laugh. “Sadie, I wanted so much more for you than this. You were going to school. You had a future…” Her voice broke, and Jonathan put his arm around her as she cried.
“The father’s going to help you,” he said. It wasn’t a question.
“The father’s not in the picture,” I said. “And he never will be. I’m going to do this on my own. We’re going to be fine.”
“Don’t be an idiot,” Jonathan said. He probably meant for the insult to sting, but he just sounded tired. “You’re going to have a baby. You’re going to rope Mom in to help with everything. She doesn’t deserve this. She worked hard enough raising us on her own.”
“Jon, enough,” my mom said, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue she’d snagged from the box on a table by my bed. “There’s no use thinking about what could’ve been. This is our reality now. And you’re going to respect what your sister wants to do.”
“How can I respect what she wants to do when she can’t even respect herself?” he demanded. And that arrow hit its mark.
“Stop talking about me like I’m not lying right here,” I snapped. “Just leave if you’re going to act like this. I don’t deserve all this crap — especially from you.”
Jonathan glowered at me before stalking out of the room. My mom slumped in her seat, her hand dropping out of mine.
“Don’t you be mad at me too,” I said, my throat thickening with tears.
“I’m not mad, Sadie.” My mom pinched the bridge of her nose. “If you’re really dead set on doing this alone, my heart breaks for you. Because it wasn’t easy with you and your brother. Not on my own like that after your father…” Even now, all these years later, she still couldn’t say it — that he was gone. “I’m afraid you’ll always struggle — and that you’ll never have enough. I always felt like that. And I felt that it did the two of you a disservice, not being able to do better. I wanted you to break that cycle. I didn’t ever want you to have to be a single mother like me.”
I reached over to take her hand and squeezed it. “You’re the best, Mom. The best mother anyone could ask for. You did just fine.”
My mom took a deep breath. “And you’re going to do just fine too. Better than fine. I’m your mother. I’m going to be there every step of the way.” She exhaled sharply through her nose — about as close to a laugh as she was going to get at this point. “Grandmother. I’m too young to have grandkids. I’ll be the hottest grandma in town.”
“Yeah, you will.”
* * *
Later, up in the imaging department, a technician lathered my belly with gel.
“No one here with you?” she asked, just making conversation, I was sure.
“Just me,” I said, trying to smile as brightly as possible. “Is that okay?”
“Of course it’s okay,” the technician assured me. “No worries. Lots of dads can’t make appointments sometimes. You’re not the only one.”
