The Friends We Keep (Mischief Bay) (7 page)

BOOK: The Friends We Keep (Mischief Bay)
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“Not really. And you do know me. Through my work.”

She thought about the endless hours she’d spent reading his books aloud. “That doesn’t recommend you.”

He surprised her by chuckling. “Not a fan?”

“You have no idea.”

He leaned close. For a second she caught a scent of something woodsy and clean. Nice. “I get that from a lot of parents, but the kids love me and I love them.”

“Don’t try to be nice now.”

“I’m always nice.”

And highly verbal, she thought. “You’re a writer. I don’t like writers. Look, you really have to go.”

He studied her for a few seconds, then nodded. “It was nice to meet you, Nicole.”

While she was happy this was over, a teeny, tiny part of her was sorry he was giving up so easily. Was it a writer thing? Because Eric had sure given up on them. Not that her marriage could be compared with her five minutes with Jairus, but still.

He walked back over to Tyler. They talked for a few minutes, then hugged. Jairus whispered something to the boy before leaving.

Tyler held his new book tight. “This was the best day ever.”

Nicole brushed his hair out of his eyes. “I’m glad. He spent a lot of time with you.”

“I know. He said he had fun.”

“I’m sure he did. Want to get your stuff so we can go?”

Tyler nodded and ran back the room where he’d left his lunch bag. The camp counselor moved next to Nicole.

“He was asking about you.”

“Tyler?”

“No, Jairus. You know... Were you single? Did you have a boyfriend? I think he was interested.”

There was a distinct fluttering right below her rib cage. Nicole told herself it was because she’d missed lunch. She was hungry—nothing more.

“I hope you didn’t tell him anything.”

“Just where you worked.”

Nicole groaned. “Why?”

“Did you see his butt? Plus, he’s successful.”

“Nothing will come of it.”

“I don’t know. He seemed pretty interested to me.”

“You say that like it’s a good thing.”

“Are you kidding? He’s so sexy.”

“Not what I’m looking for.”

“Uh-huh. Keeping telling yourself that and maybe it will be true.”

Chapter Six

The waiting room was familiar. Hayley couldn’t guess how much time she and Rob had spent here. Talking. Hoping. There were also the appointments she’d had on her own. While it would never be a second home—no one would want that—it was familiar. Sometimes the news was good and sometimes it wasn’t. She’d cried here, hoped here.

She knew every painting on the walls. All landscapes. There were no pictures of families in this waiting room, no children. That would be too hard. The magazines were related to travel or cooking or sports. No smiling babies on parenting magazines.

Appointments tended to last a long time so it was rare to run into another couple. The process of having a baby when science had to get involved wasn’t easy.

Rob sat next to her, his left ankle rested on his right knee. His foot bounced as he stared unseeingly at the magazine he’d opened. She might be the one going through the procedures, but he’d always disliked Dr. Pearce’s office. Or maybe he disliked the reason they had to be here.

For the past four years, this place had defined their life. She’d been referred after her second miscarriage. There had been tests and discussions. It wasn’t that she couldn’t get pregnant, it was that she couldn’t stay pregnant. Her body rejected the fetus and while there were many explanations, there didn’t seem to be any solutions.

“It’s okay,” she told Rob. “You can relax.”

“Not here.”

She took his hand in hers. “We’re going to have a good appointment. I can feel it.”

He looked doubtful, but didn’t say anything. Alice, one of the nurses, called them into Dr. Pearce’s office.

“How are you feeling?” the nurse asked as they walked down the hall.

“Good. Taking my iron every day.”

She had to. She’d lost so much blood with her last miscarriage. She was also bleeding on and off. If it were Halloween, she could easily do the vampire thing and be plenty pale without makeup. The thought made her smile, but she doubted Rob would appreciate the humor.

Dr. Pearce was already waiting for them. She was tall and in her early forties, with short red hair and a lot of freckles. She looked like what she was—a sensible, compassionate woman. Hayley had liked her from the start. She kept current on the latest infertility research and was willing to discuss unconventional therapies.

Dr. Pearce shook Rob’s hand, then hugged Hayley.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

“Good. Strong.”

Dr. Pearce raised her eyebrows. “You don’t look strong, Hayley.”

“Okay, I’m better than I was. I’m eating right and taking my vitamins.”

“Good. Your body has been through a lot. It needs time to recover.”

Time was not Hayley’s friend. She knew that fertility started a steep downhill slide and with no information on her family’s medical history, she didn’t know if she came from a long line of fertile women or those who had gone into perimenopause at thirty-five.

She and Rob sat in the comfortable visitor chairs. Dr. Pearce slipped on reading glasses, then typed on her computer.

“We have your blood work from your last visit. It’s better than it was.”

Hayley pulled some papers out of her handbag. “Good, because I want to talk to you about this.” She passed over the sheets. “They’re doing great work in Switzerland. The clinic has had incredible success with women having trouble carrying to term. There’s a new drug therapy and special monitoring. It’s expensive, but we’ll find a way. We always do.”

She spoke quickly, careful to keep her attention on the doctor. Next to her, Rob stiffened. She knew why—this was the first he’d heard of the clinic in Switzerland. She hadn’t mentioned it because she didn’t want to hear all the reasons why it wasn’t a good idea. Rob didn’t get it. He thought they’d done enough. Been through enough. He wanted to give it a rest. Or adopt. No matter how much she explained neither option was possible, he didn’t want to listen.

Dr. Pearce ignored the material and took off her glasses. She looked between Hayley and Rob, then drew in a breath.

“No,” she said quietly. “I can’t recommend you, Hayley. The reason I wanted to meet with you today is because you’ve reached your limit. Your body simply can’t handle this anymore. The last bleeding episode was the worst, by far. I’m concerned about your health.”

“No. I’m fine. I feel great.” An exaggeration, but she did feel better.

“All the drugs and treatments have taken a toll,” Dr. Pearce continued. “I’m sorry. I know how badly you want to have a baby. There are other options that don’t include carrying a child to term.”

Hayley went cold. She couldn’t be hearing this right. “I have to,” she whispered. “We can’t use a surrogate.”

They’d tried, but her ovaries didn’t respond to the drugs. The attempt to harvest had failed.

“Hayley, listen to her,” Rob said, reaching for her hand. “That bleeding last time was scary. You can’t risk your health, your life. I don’t want you to die.”

She pulled her hand free and stared at the doctor. “I want to go to Switzerland. They’ll make it work. You’ll see.”

“That’s not an option. Not for you. Hayley, this is so hard to say and I know it’s going to be hard to hear. You need a hysterectomy. You’re at risk of bleeding. I’m afraid the next time it starts, we won’t be able to stop it.”

“No.” Hayley wanted to cover her ears. She wouldn’t hear this. Couldn’t. She wasn’t giving up. She was never giving up. There was an answer. There had to be. “No. You don’t understand. I have to have a baby. I have to.”

“Sweetie, don’t.” Rob reached for her again. He touched her arm. “It’s okay. We’ll get through this—”

She pushed him away and stood up. “A hysterectomy? No. I won’t.” That would be the end. She could never have a child of her own. Never have a family of her own. Something that was her. She needed that. Needed the connection, the belonging. Why couldn’t they understand? Why were they ganging up on her?

She turned to Rob. “Did you know about this? Did you talk to her?” She spun to the doctor. “Did you go behind my back?”

“No,” Dr. Pearce said quickly. “Of course not. Hayley, I know this is awful for you. I wish I could help you, but I can’t. Let me be clear. If you get pregnant again, you will bleed out and die. I strongly recommend you go to the hospital today for surgery, but I understand you have to think about this. Process it.”

“I want to go to Switzerland.” She had to focus on what was possible. Otherwise she couldn’t get through it.

Rob stood and faced her. “You’re not going anywhere,” he yelled. “You’re not getting pregnant. Let it go. Dammit, Hayley.” Tears filled his eyes. He shook his head, then walked out of the office.

Hayley stared after him, but didn’t follow. She sank back into her seat. “There has to be something,” she whispered. She was cold. Desperately cold. Her stomach churned.

Dr. Pearce came around the desk and took Rob’s seat. She reached for Hayley’s hand.

“This sucks,” she said bluntly. “You have done everything medically possible to carry a baby to term. I know how important this is to you. I wish you could know how I hate telling you this. I’m sorry, Hayley. If it’s this painful for me, I can’t imagine how awful it is for you. But you have to get through this. The surgery is necessary to save your life.”

She reached for a card on her desk. “I’d like you to see another specialist. She’s at UCLA. Talk to her. Get a second opinion and a third. But please, don’t wait too long.”

Because time was never on her side, she thought, the cold deepening until she couldn’t feel anything else.

Hayley nodded. “Okay. Thanks. I get it.”

She stood and collected the material she’d brought with her. She could feel herself moving, but something wasn’t right. It was as if she were underwater, or fighting through being slightly out of space and time. The cold was the only constant.

“I’m sorry,” Dr. Pearce repeated. “Hayley, you have my cell number. Call me anytime. I mean that.”

“Sure. I will.”

She walked out of the office and back to the waiting room. Rob stood there.

“Are you going to listen to Dr. Pearce?” he asked. “Did you hear what she was saying? I don’t want you to die. We have to stop. You have to schedule the surgery.”

As cold as she felt, she was surprised her teeth weren’t chattering. She couldn’t feel her hands or her feet. Her heartbeat sounded loud in her ears, making it difficult to hear what her husband was saying.

Maybe this was shock, she told herself. Maybe it was a bad dream.

“We should go,” she said. “We’re done here.”

He looked at her for a long time. “I wish I could believe that.”

* * *

Gabby had met Nicole over a year ago through Shannon, Gabby’s sister-in-law. Casual conversation had turned to going to Supper’s in the Bag together which had morphed into friendship. Gabby knew in her head that Nicole ran an exercise studio that specialized in Pilates. She’d seen her friend in various outfits and knew the other woman was in great shape. But all that intellectual knowledge had not prepared her for a class at Mischief in Motion.

Mat Pilates had sounded easy enough. The mat part implied lying down. At least she wouldn’t be running and jumping. But halfway through her first class, she realized that the mat was just there to taunt her. There might not be running and jumping but there was more pain than she’d ever thought possible. Nicole wanted her to do things that the human body just wasn’t meant to do. At least hers wasn’t.

“Five more seconds,” Nicole said, sounding more like a drill sergeant than a friend. “And hold. Three, two, one and relax.”

Gabby fell onto her back. She was sweating and quivering. The sweating was gross but expected. What she objected to the most was the quivering. Even though the exercise was over, her stomach muscles continued to tremble. That couldn’t be good.

Nicole, all skinny and fit in black exercise leggings and a black and hot-pink racer-back tank, knelt by her mat.

“You doing okay?” she asked.

“No. I can’t move.”

“Just do what you can. This is a pretty advanced class. When we’re done here, let’s go over the schedule and find something you’ll enjoy more.”

“You mean a class with fat, out-of-shape people with emotional eating problems?” Gabby was trying to be funny but had a bad feeling she only sounded pathetic.

“I was thinking that a class geared to someone who’s been busy with her family might be better, but you call it what you want.” Nicole rose. “Okay, everyone. We’ll finish with the plank.”

Everyone rolled over and shifted into the plank position. Well, everyone except Gabby. She tried to sit up only to find that her body failed her. Pain joined the quivering. She rolled onto her side and managed to push herself up so she was at least sitting.

She watched the other women in the class hold their pose as Nicole counted the time. Three of the women dropped out at a minute, which left Shannon and Pam still going. At two minutes, Gabby felt her mouth drop open. Shannon was in fantastic shape, damn her, but Pam was over fifty. She looked great and obviously worked out a lot. Gabby figured she could either be inspired or feel bitter. Right now, bitter was winning.

“Three minutes,” Nicole said out loud.

“Ready to call it?” Pam asked, sounding out of breath.

“Yes. One, two, three.”

On three they both collapsed. Everyone applauded. Gabby told herself she would remember this moment and when she was faced with cookies or brownies, she would think of Pam. She might also eat a cookie, but it would be with Pam in mind.

Shannon stood and walked over. “How are you holding up?” she asked.

“I have no idea,” Gabby admitted.

The other woman held out her hand, to help Gabby to her feet. Gabby took it and forced herself to stand. Her legs were shaking and she felt a little sick to her stomach.

“I hate exercise,” she admitted to herself as the rest of the students collected their things and left.

Nicole brought her a bottle of water. “Drink. Then come look at the schedule.”

“You did great,” Pam told her. “This is a tough class. Nicole works us extra hard, so the fact that you got through it shows grit. When I first started, I had the endurance of a noodle.”

“I’ve always liked pasta,” Gabby admitted.

The other women laughed.

Pam walked over to her tote bag. A head popped out. Gabby looked at the delicate Chinese crested and compared her to Boomer. They were barely the same species.

Lulu seemed more alien than dog, with a bare body that was sort of gray with white splotches. On her tail, head and feet, she had pure white fluffy fur. Today she had on a blue T-shirt with little hearts on it.

The dog might be weird-looking, but she was very well behaved. Boomer could learn a thing or two from her. Not that his lack of manners was his fault, Gabby admitted. She hadn’t taken enough time to train him. Pam reached for Lulu and the little dog jumped into her arms.

Pam returned to the group and everyone sat down on the mats. Gabby joined them. She didn’t have to be anywhere for a while.

“When’s your next trip?” Shannon asked Pam.

“September.” Pam turned to Gabby. “I have some friends I cruise with. We’re doing a quick cruise around Spain and Portugal.”

“They’re wild women,” Nicole added. “I keep expecting to hear you’ve mooned some island.”

“I don’t think my butt is big enough that I could moon an entire island,” Pam said as she stroked Lulu. “Maybe a beach. Hmm, I’ll get back to you on that.”

Shannon patted her lap and the little dog jumped gracefully over. “You’re going to stay with me, sweet girl. Aren’t you?”

“Char and Oliver must love that,” Gabby said. “The twins adore her.” Lulu had quite the wardrobe and was happy to play dress up.

“How long will you be gone?” Gabby asked Pam.

“Nearly two weeks. The cruise is a week, then I’m staying with friends.”

“Has anyone talked to Hayley?” Nicole asked. “I left her a message a couple of days ago and haven’t heard back from her.”

“I haven’t, either,” Gabby said. “I’ll text her when I get home.”

There was a moment of awkward silence. The women looked at each other. Gabby would guess they were each trying to figure out what to say.

BOOK: The Friends We Keep (Mischief Bay)
4.95Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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