above,” I offer up another white lie. “It was a work thing that got out of hand. Those reporters always lie.”
“Oh, I see. Well, that’s good. I thought that hockey player seemed a bit young for you anyway.” She snickers again. “If you can, please figure out where to have the party by next week and email me the details, and maybe send a copy of the invitation so I can approve it before you print them. That would be great. I’ll send a text with the things I want on there.”
“Sure thing.”
“Okay, thanks again. Bye.” She ends the call and I stare at the phone. She has a master’s in hitting me in just the right places.
“Jenny?” the assistant calls my name.
“Yup.” I shove my phone into my purse as it starts buzzing with what I assume are Judith’s twenty texts to tell me three things.
“If you want to get the gown on, she’ll be right with you.” The assistant smiles and closes the door.
I undress and put on the hideous gown and lie on the paper sheet, hating the way it crinkles under me and some of my skin accidentally touches the cold bed.
I’m staring at the ceiling, completely lost in how I’ll afford renting something for my dad’s party unless I take the job in Vancouver. All weekend I have been certain I would turn it down and stay with Lori but this puts a wrench in the works.
Maybe I can stay with Sukii since she’s sleeping at Cap’s all the time anyway. If I let go of my apartment and put my stuff in storage, I could use the last of my savings to pay for the party and stay here to be with Lori.
Yes, that’s what I’ll do. Even though it involves moving my stuff again.
God help me.
The door opens, interrupting my thoughts. “Hi, Jenny.” Dr. Almer smiles as she enters.
“Hey.” I try to sound upbeat.
“How are you?”
“Good,” I offer the same lie I’ve been telling everyone for weeks. Months.
“Okay, well let’s get to it.” She comes and sits next to me with her clipboard. “Uhm, it says here we are due for your three-month Depo shot, but your urine sample says we can’t do that.”
“What?”
Her face flushes and she swallows hard. “You came in for the Depo—right?” It’s a stupid question. “Your birth control.”
“Yes. Of course.” My heart races and my sweating thing hits. I sit up. “What are you saying, is something wrong? Do I have cancer?” That would honestly be my luck right now.
“No. God no.” Dr. Almer refers to the clipboard again. “It’s your urine test—see the thing is, we run a pregnancy test every time you come in for the Depo. It’s just a formality, normally—”
“What?” I gag the word out. Rattling my head in tiny twitches, I try to understand what she’s saying.
“Pregnancy test,” she repeats. “Yours is positive.”
“Are you saying I’m pregnant?” I shriek. “But I’m on the shot! It’s birth control. I don’t even have periods. How can I get pregnant with no period?”
“It’s accurate ninety-nine percent of the time. Have you taken any antibiotics or been under abnormal stress? That can affect the—”
“What are you saying?” I jump off the table and grab my phone, ignoring the wind on my butt as the gown flies open. “What do you mean?” I double-check my dates. “I had the shot almost three months ago. See it’s right here! This isn’t possible.”
“Of course, it’s rare—”
“Rare?” I close my eyes as the empty pit my stomach is threatens to boil over. “Oh my God.” I wonder which person I’m pregnant with. Lawrence or Ben? Though neither is a good option. “Oh my God.”
I’m pregnant.
My knees almost buckle but I lean on the counter and try to focus.
It takes several deep breaths before I murmur, “Can you tell how far along? It’s honestly life or death.”
“Yeah, let me grab the machine.” She leaves the room abruptly and I lie back down.
Tears are lodged in my throat as I calculate. The last time I had sex with Ben was when? My mind works backwards through the haze and mud of the last two months. No period from the shot means I don’t have that to go on. I have to use events.
I flew to my parents’ place the tenth of June. But I didn’t see Ben that week before. I was working like a crazy person to finish organizing the Stanley Cup promotional events. I use my phone’s calendar to backtrack. The