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Of course, right when I’m beginning to get invested in the show, a commercial break comes on. And what’s the very first commercial I saw when I turned on the TV?
A diaper commercial.
Is the universe playing a sick prank on me? Is this even real? I find it interesting that the moment I start to forget about my problems, a cruel reminder is shoved into my face in the form of a naked baby running around a house.
Gah, I’m going to be a horrible mother. What if I don’t have that maternal instinct? What if none of it ever clicks in?
I groan, turning the TV off. It’s no use. I need to sort out the thunderstorm of thoughts brewing in my head. Otherwise, my head just might explode. I think about calling Jennie but then decide against it. Jennie, as good of a friend as she is, just wouldn’t understand the feelings I’m experiencing right now. I need to talk to someone who has been through this already. There’s only one person I know who’s on the same track as I am.
Crazy Stacy.
I go through my contact list and stop on her name, my thumb hovering over it momentarily. I’d put off calling her before because I didn’t want to burden her, but now…
Now I just need to hear from someone who’s going through it, too. I press the call button but then immediately hit cancel. What am I thinking? How can I just call her after almost three years of no contact and randomly ask her to meet up? She was the popular one at college. She probably doesn’t even remember me.
Maybe I should message her and see what she’s up to these days instead. Just to measure where she’s at…
I sink my face into my palm in annoyance. Forget it; this isn’t going to work. What would I even talk about? What am I hoping for by meeting Stacy? I don’t even know the questions to ask, so how can I expect her to answer them?
My phone vibrates, alerting a text message. It’s Jack.
“Hey, so the appointment is tomorrow morning. I’ll be there to pick you up about a half hour beforehand.”
I let out a sigh once more. The sincerity and compassion with which Jack approaches our dilemma makes my heart feel warm and fuzzy.
Once more, the phone begins to vibrate, which indicates he sent another text message.
“Also, if you need me to bring you anything, let me know.”
Exhaling my conflicted feelings forcefully, I quickly type out a response, agreeing to meet up tomorrow and denying his latter offer with thanks. Although it’s inevitable that I see Jack again now that I’m carrying his child, I still need some amount of isolation from him
I sit up, spontaneously deciding to go to a grocery store to restock my pantry even though I don’t need to. What I need is to get out of the house. Otherwise, my brain will combust.
I arrive at the grocery store about an hour later and it’s filled with people. I’m looking around at the crowded parking lot with disdain. The last thing I need is to be around so many people. It’s such a pain to go to a public place and find, well, the public. I take a deep breath, however, grab a cart, and make my way in through the sliding doors.
Browsing through the various aisles, I look for anything that doesn’t make me nauseous and that doesn’t look like it would leave a weird metallic taste in my mouth. So far, nothing jumps out at me other than a bag of rice cake chips and a box of crackers.
Looking around, I’m on a mental sort of autopilot. I just cruise through the aisle, ignoring my surroundings for the most part and while I’m trying to be cognizant of my surroundings, I’m actively tuning everything out but my task at hand. So, it’s no wonder I crashed into a shopping cart when I turn around a corner. The shock from the metal connecting on metal sends waves of pain up my arms like fireworks.
“Jesus Christ, are you okay?” a woman calls out.
I’ve let go of the cart and am now rubbing my arms and shoulders. “No, not really,” I mutter, not in the mood to become my old people-pleasing self today.
“Well, you should’ve been watching where you are going then.” The stern tone reminds me of a mom lecturing her child.
I turn around towards the voice, ready for a fight…only to come face to face with a familiar woman.
“Stacy?” I question tentatively, stepping forward slowly.
She looks different, a modified version of my old classmate. She’s a little heavier, which shows in the shape of her face. Her hair’s a little longer as well. But her face is the same. Still the same old Stacy. At the sound of her own voice, her face softens from the scowl it was in and her eyes widen in recognition.
“Sarah?” Stacy replies back in the same surprised tone. She looks me up and down, not once but twice. She seems taken aback by my presence.
What are the odds of this happening? How ironic is it that I talked myself out of hitting up Stacy, only to end up meeting her in a grocery store by accident? My life doesn’t seem real to me at times.
She laughs suddenly, abandoning the cart to approach me with open arms. It’s then that I notice her bulging belly. The round bump makes it hard for her to hug me properly.
Nonetheless, I return her hug sincerely, rubbing her back as a gesture of love. Although we haven’t kept in touch, she’d been a friend back then. I should have known that this would be the way it would work out.
