She smiles in Neil’s direction as if noticing him for the first time. “I see you brought your partner. It is always best to make these decision as a couple.”
Neil’s gaze shifts and he says nothing, but the tic starts twitching in his cheek again.
She pats my thigh. “Put your feet up in the stirrups and scooch down, dear.”
Dr. Leary has an infinitely soothing manner, but I feel like I’m going to jump out of my skin anyway. I cover my face with my forearms since this is so embarrassing.
I cringe, wait and tightly close my eyes. God, I hate this…I feel her rummaging around down there… cold metal… pushes on my abdomen…fuck, a finger there…and a click of metal as something slips out of me. By the time she’s done, every muscle in my body hurts from tension.
My gown is jerked down over my pelvis again. A tap on my thigh. “You can sit up now, Miss Stanton.”
With a stethoscope she listens to my breathing, does a fast take of my pulse, then returns to her short spinning stool and wheels across to the desk.
Anxiously, I watch as she starts rotating that weird little menstrual calculator thingy they have. She quickly jots notes on my chart, and then whirls around to face me, shoving a stack of pamphlets at me.
“We can’t do an abortion for you here, Miss Stanton. We’re going to refer you to outpatient at the hospital. You should read those. I have an opening tomorrow morning. I can do the procedure then. Is that what you want? Or would you rather speak with our counselors before you and your partner decide?”
She stares at me expectantly. Why the hospital?
“I don’t understand. I thought I could take care of it today.”
“You’re in your second trimester. A different procedure. Perfectly safe. But we don’t do D & E abortions here. The pamphlets will explain everything. I suggest you read them thoroughly. It will explain the entire procedure.”
I can’t catch hold of what she’s just said…what does that mean?
I feel the displacement of air around me, and Neil’s voice pulls me from my stupor. “How pregnant is my girlfriend?”
He’s hovering near the table, alarmed and anxious.
“Close to fourteen weeks,” Dr. Leary replies calmly.
Fourteen weeks? I frown up at him and I can tell we are both counting backward, trying to figure out when fourteen weeks ago was. Neil calculates conception faster. His posture changes, his jaw stiffening again. The math confirms that the baby isn’t his.
He sinks back into his chair and I rapidly study his fast-changing expression. I’m not sure what I’m seeing flashing in his eyes. Relief or sadness…strange, but I can’t tell.
“Chrissie is just beyond the cut-off for what we do here at the clinic,” Dr. Leary says to Neil. She fixes her eyes back on me. “I promise you, it doesn’t make the procedure less safe. It’s just a different procedure.”
I swallow down the lump in my throat. “Schedule it, please.”
By the time I leave the clinic, I feel like someone has just dropped an anvil on me. I’ve got something inserted in my vagina to dilate me, a list of pre-op instructions, and Neil is carrying admission forms for the hospital in the morning.
Outside the clinic, I stop. I bend over, breathing in and out, trying not to vomit and trying not to cry.
“You don’t have to do this, Chrissie,” Neil says softly.
He looks sad. Achingly sad. Shit, and it’s not even his baby. “I know. But I’m going to do this.”
Neil folds me into his chest and holds me tightly up against him. He’s talking but I can’t catch the words and I don’t want to. I don’t want to think. Not one more thought until after this is through.
I bury my face against his chest to block out the world from my vision. Oh fuck, I’ve even screwed up getting an abortion.
~~~
I clutch the pillow tightly against my stomach, willing myself not to wake up. I don’t really remember today clearly and I’m afraid that if I open my eyes I will suddenly remember everything too clearly. It’s all just fragments and disconnected pictures and I want it to stay that way forever.
The snippets start to flash in my memory. The smell of the hospital. Jeez, why do they smell so bad? How cold and stark the room was. I don’t know what I expected the hospital room to look like, I hadn’t been in one before, but I hated how old and colorless it all was. Then something being injected into my IV and a mask with the gas coming over my face. Counting—yes, I remember counting, as Neil held my hand and spoke quietly to me. Then nothing. Merciful blackness.
The next clear moment is waking, and seeing Neil sitting in a chair near the bed, looking like a guy who’s been run over by a truck. Then relief on his face, after noticing I was awake, mixing with a lot of other things that I didn’t want to try to understand. Then the drive home and having Neil put me into my own bed. The feel of him sitting beside me, his long, tanned fingers lightly stroking my emotion-drained body. Then sleep. The absence of everything.
I lift up my head. Neil is sitting on the floor beside the bed, back against my nightstand, elbows on knees, face in hands.
“How long have you been sitting there?”
Neil looks up and his eyes slowly focus. “I don’t know. Since you fell asleep.” He turns to look at the clock on the stand behind him. “Four hours.”
I manage to get myself into a sitting position. “You’ve just been watching me sleep for four hours?”
He shrugs. “Not watching you sleep. Thinking.”
My eyes widen in surprise.
“Things were fucking intense today,” he says and I cringe. I don’t want to talk about today.
“I don’t know how I’m ever going to repay you for all you did, Neil. I still can’t believe you went with me. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”
His eyes lock on me, flashing and angry. “Fuck you, Chrissie.”
My cheeks flood with a burn and I watch as he rises and then reaches for my antibiotic on the table.
He pops off the cap. “You need to take one of these.” He holds it out for me and grabs a bottle of water. He waits until I take my pill. “Are you in pain? The doctor said you could have ibuprofen if you need it. ”
I shake my head and follow him with my eyes as he moves around the bed. He settles on the vacant spot beside me. A ragged, shuddering breath leaves his body.
“I hated watching you go through this today,” he whispers and slowly pulls me close against him. “I fucking love you and you don’t get it. I didn’t stay to be here with you because I’m some fucking moronic nice-guy. I would have been out the door if it had been any girl but you. I stayed because I love you, Chrissie. And you don’t even fucking get it.”
The look in his eyes rends my heart. The room is so heavy with grimness. I want to pull away from Neil. I want to melt into him. I want not to hurt. I want him not to hurt. I want us to be all right.
“I’m sorry,” he sighs. “You don’t need more shit from me. Not now. Not today. I’m sorry.”
The anguished look on Neil’s face makes my numbness fade and too many things come tumbling back all at once.
How close to being perfect Neil and I are together. How much I love Alan. All the mistakes I’ve made, including this giant one from today—and yes, it was a mistake and I didn’t want to do it and I did it anyway. How lost and alone I feel. How afraid I am of the future since I don’t really seem to be going anywhere. In a month I’m out of college. Shouldn’t I be going somewhere? How unfair it is that I’m holding on to Neil for dear life, and how cruel my stupid best friend comment was.
Too much all at once. I lie against Neil, my emotion-drained limbs without sensation, and I don’t know what to say. I brush at the tears dripping from my nose. “I’m sorry, Neil.”
For some reason, my apology kicks up whatever is going on inside Neil. His jaw tightens more.