Read Juilliard or Else Online

Authors: Nichele Reese

Tags: #General Fiction

Juilliard or Else (45 page)

BOOK: Juilliard or Else
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"Good, because I feel the same way about her right now."

"Would you care to elaborate for me?"

"I have a problem binging, I'm a binger." I giggled at my new nickname. "I shouldn't say that I have a binging problem anymore, because I'm pregnant so now it's morning sickness."

"How far along are you in your pregnancy?"

"Three months or so. I go to the doctor in two weeks."

He wrote that down. "Good, congratulations."

"Thanks," I mumbled, then slouched down into the leather.

He slid his watch on his wrist up for the time, "I'm sorry ladies, but we went way over the hour." Dr. Walters stood up and reached out his hand, "Jade, you did very well for your first appointment. I hope you schedule your next one next week."

Jade smiled, "I will." and then shook his hand.

"Can you do me a favor though?"

Jade shrugged, "I can try."

"Come alone. There's nothing wrong with bringing Abigail along, but now that the first meeting is over with, I want to see how well you open up without her here."

She went hard at my side, "I can't promise you anything."

"And that's fine—just try."

Jade nodded, "Okay."

Then their hands let go, Dr. Walter's then turned to me and stuck his hand out. "Abigail, would you make an appointment for tomorrow with my receptionist? I would like to talk to you so more as well."

"Ummm….Sure."

He let go of my hand, pushed up his glasses, "Have a wonderful rest of the day ladies." Then he turned and went back to his desk.

We walked back down the light gray hallway and made our appointments. Mine for tomorrow at three and Jade's for next week. I liked Dr. Walters. He seemed like a very nice man. We will see with one on one time tomorrow though.

Three o'clock came a lot faster than I had planned, but I couldn't leave the bathroom all morning. I thought stress from Carol was bad, morning sickness was worse. Nothing agreed with my stomach, except for hot chocolate.

I haven't spoken to Carol about my pregnancy since the station. My dad called every day to check up on me, making sure I'm eating right, and asking how I'm feeling. I love my dad. He was the biggest supporter ever; I'm grateful for him. I know that he has told me about Carol being so disappointed in me. She tried to shield me, but yet, I followed in her steps, getting pregnant at such a young age. I'm not going her route though; I plan on having this baby alone if I have to, but getting an abortion is not my answer.

I entered the tall building where Dr. Walters was when my purse started to buzz. I dug around in my purse, trying to see the glow. I need to remind myself later to clean my purse out. I couldn't even find my phone. Having it on silent did help the problem either. But when I felt the rectangle device, I was shocked to see on my screen; 1
missed call: Tucker

I stopped walking as I stared at his name. When the screen went dark again, I got my feet to move to the bank of elevators. I stood in the elevator, holding my phone out, staring at the black screen. I didn't even know if I wanted to talk with him; it's been weeks since I've seen him. I tried calling him every day, but he never answered or called me back. I cried while I left messages, and only bringing up the baby once. I wasn't going to hold the pregnancy over his head. If he wanted to be here, then I'll accept that. It's sad to even think that I prepared myself for him not to be in this child's life.

The elevator dinged and I walked off. I debated back and forth about calling him back. Call him back and yell at him, call him and tell him to never call me again. Or just the simplest one was to ignore him. So I decided on just that.

I put my phone back in my purse and walked up to the receptionist desk. She looked up at me with a smile.

"Hi, I have an appointment at three with Dr. Walters."

"Okay, I'll let him know that you are here. Please, take a seat."

I sat down in the same leather chairs as yesterday, and my legs started to bounce, my nerves were going crazy being here by myself. I picked up a
Parents
magazine and flipped through it in record time, not even reading or looking at the pictures of the smiling babies. I took a deep breath and started the magazine over again, taking my time, not even paying attention to the little beep from my phone, telling me I have a new voicemail.

I pushed the thought aside and continued to flip, reading about being a parent is one of the greatest blessings someone could ever have. I read a testimonial from a lady. It was her third child and the worst case of morning sickness she's had. Her husband being there with the other two kids, then being there in the mornings, holding her hair back, getting a cold cloth for the back of her neck, and when she got back into bed, he went and took care of the other two kids.

Being a parent was this amazing thing that I should look forward to, but why is moving forward so hard, when one is by them self? I'm pregnant and alone, and the thought burned into my brain, then I started crying.

"Abigail McCall?"

Someone called out my name, but I didn't budge. I held onto the sides of the magazine and silently cried, watching my tears fall on the colorful papers of all the happy family stories.

I'm alone.

It echoed through my head over and over again, like a song stuck on repeat. Tucker didn't even care, that he left me in the police station, throwing up on the cold tile floor.

Just…walked right past me. Left me there.

I don't know how long I sat there crying, having a death grip on the magazine, until someone placed a hand on my shoulder.

"Abigail?"

It was the last voice I ever expected to hear and I flinch away from the touch. The magazine of happy families and wonderful, holding back the hair husbands fell on the floor and I held my head.

Alone

"Abigail. Please look at me."

I stopped crying long enough to look up and meet the blue eyes of my step mother, Carol, sitting right next to me. Her blue eyes were filled of sadness as she held open her arms to me. I went willingly. I needed to be held.

Carol let go and cupped my cheeks. Her eyes usually so cruel and mean, now were soft and caring. She pushed my hair back off my shoulder, "Meet me for drinks after this? There's a little place across the street. We have lots to talk about." I nodded. I agree very much, we did need to talk. I'm keeping my baby, I knew she would try and talk me out of it though.

"Abigail McCall?"

I looked at the lady calling my name then followed her down the same hallway as yesterday. I found myself on the same brown leather couch, with Dr. Walters in front of me, his hand under his chin, staring at me.

"Abigail, what has you so upset today?"

I sniffed and reached for a tissue, "I'm just emotional," I tried to play it off.

"Abigail, don't shut down. It's not fair to you."

I looked back up at him.

One breath, two breaths, and then three breaths.

I broke down and sobbed into the tissue.

"Abigail, let's talk about this. Obviously something is destroying you. You have to talk in order for me to help you."

"I'm pregnant. My boyfriend...or I thought he was my boyfriend was someone who I didn't even know. He lied to me from the beginning. Told me he's never been arrested, but he has—he deals drugs. My dad is a lawyer for the city and has this giant folder on him. The night Rachel died; I found out Tucker deals drugs. I'm not stupid; I know how dangerous that is. The Tucker I met wanted nothing more than to tattoo and he's so great at it too!"

I continued on my ramp page of anti-Tucker syndrome. I confessed about the bulimia, Carol, everything I could think of. When I told him about my purging, I was actually pacing in front of Dr. Walters. I went on about the stupid bullying from Jasmine, but she wasn't so much of a concern as Tucker. I ended up looking out the windows of his office, pulling on one of Dr. Walters leaves of his tall plant in the corner, while watching the traffic below me. Being up forty floors, I could get used to looking out a window like this every day.

"Tucker tried calling me when I got here."

Dr. Walter's cleared his throat. "Did you talk with him?"

I shook my head, "No, I missed the call, but I think he left a voicemail."

"Abigail, you need to listen to it. He could be trying to reach out. He doesn't have any family. You did say his mom could care less about him. Maybe while his dad was with him, he told him to leave you alone, maybe said to stay away. You have to hear him out on the other side here. He is the father to your unborn baby."

My head dropped with a thud on the window, the cars moving right below my eyes, straight down the building. I had a feeling the good doc would say something like that.

"I don't want to pressure Tucker into being a father. That's something he needs to figure out."

"I agree. In your situation, I think most men would do something like leave you with a child he could care less about. But from what you've told me, sounds like that isn't the case. Listen to the message, Abigail."

I turned and faced him, still sitting in his leather chair, yellow pad of paper on his lap, his glasses down on his nose just like my dad does when I walk into his office. I walked back over to the couch where my purse was and pulled out my phone. When I unlocked my phone, the little screen still showed:

1 missed call: Tucker

My eyes started to water again, taking a deep breath to help them stop them from falling, but it didn't work. A tear dropped on my phone as the screen went dark again.

"Go ahead Abigail. Listen to it." Dr. Walters was starting to push my buttons with the forcing. I unlocked my phone and dialed up my voicemail. While the lady talked on the phone, telling me I have one new message, his voice that I missed so much filled my ears.

Gabs, I'm sorry I haven't been around. I've been trying to lie low from everything that has happened. I hope you can meet me today. I want to see you and talk to you. I hope you can find it in your heart to call me back.

He sounded so nervous. I wanted to see him, but another part of me didn't. Then all the what ifs filled my head. What if he didn't want to be with me? What if this. What if that. I wanted to pull my hair out. Instead, I just put my phone back and fell against the back of the couch, releasing a big breath.

"What did he have to say?"

I met the doctor's eyes, "Wants me to call him back, and wants me to forgive him."

"See, it's a start. Are you going to?"

I shrugged my shoulders and not saying anything else. Dr. Walters stood up and held his hand out, pretty much signaling that my time is up.

"Abigail, I hope you will come back for another session."

"Yeah, I will."

I shook his hand then left. I was alone in the elevator and let the rest of my tears flow freely down my face. People starred at me with raised brows, but their face sincere. I wiped them away with my as quick as I could when I reached the lobby. Again, I debated with myself on calling Tucker back. If I did, what do I say to him? I didn't want to be that girl who says one thing then goes crawling back to him just because he called me. My steps hit the outside and I started walking to the place Carol wanted to meet me.

I spotted Carol at the table, twisting her wine glass around with her fingers. Taking a deep breath I then went to her side. She smiled at my approach and right then, something changed between us. She gave me a sad smile at the corner of her mouth, and then I saw her eyes travel down to my barely showing belly. I wasn't showing at all, but you can tell I had a tiny little bump at the top of my jeans.

I sat down across from her and ordered a hot chocolate. We stayed silent until the waiter brought me my drink. Then we were left alone. Clattering dishes filled the silence between us as I blew on my drink to take a sip. Carol huffed, and then I glanced up at her.

"Abigail, why are you seeing a therapist?" She asked as her manicured nails drummed on the black linen cloth.

"I went with Jade to talk about Rachel's death among other things. He asked if I could come back today, so I did." Taking another soothing drink of my warm cocoa, letting it pool in my belly.

BOOK: Juilliard or Else
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