Chapter Thirty-Five

December 2009

Mandy stared at the stack of magazines on the table in front of her. Not at the other people waiting their turn, or the receptionist who checked people in, but the outdated US Weekly , Vogue , and Better Homes that's why you were supposed to use a condom." Mandy's cheeks heated. No way Theo's neighbors couldn't hear them right now.

"Oh, this is all my fault?"

"Actually, it is. If you were more responsible with your semen. I did my part. You were supposed to do yours."

"Well, obviously you weren't that great at your part."

"Which was why you were supposed to do yours!" They were going nowhere. Mandy'd had a feeling Theo would have some strong feelings about this news when she told him, she just wasn't expecting these feelings. She had only found out that morning herself, and she wasn't entirely sure how she felt about it, but this wasn't the kind of information a person could keep to themselves; she had to tell Theo. He had a right to know. But maybe Mandy should've waited until she sat with the news a little longer, because this? This was something she really was not ready for.

"Tina Marie," the nurse called, and Mandy watched the person who must be Tina Marie make her way to the nurse, and the door shut behind them.

This sucked. This whole situation sucked. She grabbed a magazine at random and started to thumb through. She did not need to know how to create her own indoor herb garden, and making smoothies didn't require a recipe. She tossed it back—sending the scent of old paper into the air—and checked the time on her cell phone.

She had gotten there early, which was completely unnecessary, seeing as doctors always ran late. And all this waiting just gave Mandy more time to dwell on things.

Three days after she broke the news to Theo, he finally called her to talk.

"I'm sorry," he said as she walked into his apartment. The cleaning person must have switched back to using the old stuff, because Mandy's stomach churned. It had only been three days, for fuck's sake, and now she was pregnant, and they had already started acting like she was never coming back. "She ran out of the other stuff," he said like he knew what Mandy was thinking.

Mandy didn't respond, mostly because she thought she might throw up if she opened her mouth, and instead took a seat on the couch. The same couch that was likely the "scene of the crime."

"How are you feeling?" Theo sat beside her.

"How do you think I'm feeling? I tell you I'm pregnant and you don't call me for days."

"I was scared," he admitted.

"And I wasn't? This thing is inside me." She gestured to her body.

"It's not a thing," he said.

But it was. To Mandy it was just a thing. According to the research she'd been doing, about 80 percent of miscarriages happened in the first trimester. It was the reason people didn't disclose pregnancies to other people until the second trimester, because there was a chance it would never happen. There was a possibility it would never become a baby, and Mandy wasn't ready to think of it like that just in case. She couldn't. Her anxiety had already felt off the charts lately, and her boobs hurt, and certain smells, like Theo's apartment, made her want to puke. She couldn't think of the thing inside her as anything more than that for her own sanity.

"I was an asshole. I'm sorry," he said and reached his hand out.

Mandy took it and weaved her fingers through his. He had soft hands, and his nails were always manicured—more often than Mandy's were, that was for sure. "Yes, you were."

"Well, I've done a lot of thinking, and I talked to my mom, and she said after the wedding we could stay in the guesthouse until we find something more permanent. She could go find something for us, but she figured you would want a say." He had talked to his mom? Already? Mandy hadn't even talked to hers yet. She didn't know what to say or how to say it. She didn't want to hear the disappointment in her mom's voice—at least she assumed Mom would be disappointed in her. Mandy was disappointed in herself. But wait…

"What wedding?" Mandy's brain really wasn't working the way it used to. If this was what pregnancy was like, she already hated it. How could she live like this for eight more months?

"I mean, you're having my baby. I just thought…"

"Do you even want to marry me?" Mandy wasn't sure she wanted to marry him. Theo was sweet and nice, and aside from all the clutter, he had the cleanest apartment out of everyone she'd ever known, and he dressed impeccably, but marriage?

"Maybe we could just live together. I think Mom would still let us use the guesthouse, and if not, we could figure something else out, I suppose."

"In Boston?"

"That's where my parents live. That's where I'm going to be working." He had talked about it before, how his dad had a job for him at his firm as soon as he graduated, but Mandy never really thought about it. Not that she didn't care about Theo, she just never thought much beyond what they were right now. And what they were right now was going to be parents. Oh god.

Mandy's mouth flooded with saliva. "But my parents live here in California." All this talk of moving and weddings was making Mandy sick.

"I want to be in my kid's life, Mandy."

"But what if it doesn't happen? What if something happens and there is no baby? Then what? We'll be married in Boston and then what?"

Theo didn't let go of Mandy's hand, but he did lean back on the couch. Maybe thinking about all the things that could go wrong and not how perfect it could all be if it went right. But what did things going right look like to Mandy? She was sure for Theo it was living near his parents and him working and coming home to his wife and child—but that was a perfect world for him, and Mandy knew those worlds didn't just happen. You had to work for them. Was he ready for that? Was she? And was that really what she wanted? "I just want to do what's right," he said.

"I know." She leaned back on the couch with him, and he pulled her into him.

Mandy couldn't deny it was nice resting there against his chest. "Are you really ready to be a dad?"

"I don't know."

The nurse called another name. "Larissa Jeffries."

Across the room, a girl who couldn't have been any older than sixteen sat with a woman who looked to be her mom—the two had the same nose and chin even if their hair colors were different. And Mandy couldn't help but wish her own mother were there. It had been nearly three weeks since she had found out she was pregnant, and she still hadn't talked to her mother about it. What was Mandy so afraid of?

Mandy had only gotten up the nerve to tell one person.

"How do you feel?" Isa had asked when Mandy broke the news, and that's all it took for Mandy to fall apart. She cried into the phone no less than ten straight minutes, not being able to utter a single word. Isa just listened. She didn't coax or say anything ridiculous like "Don't worry" or "It's all going to be okay," because how could Mandy not worry, and it felt like it would never be okay again.

"I'm not ready to be a mom." It was the first time Mandy uttered those words out loud, even though they had been bouncing around in her head since the moment she found out. They were no more true that day than every moment before and since, but saying them released something inside Mandy she couldn't explain. A heaviness that seemed to lighten just by telling her truth.

"And that's okay. We can talk about your options whenever you're ready." Isa's voice was so reassuring—she never made Mandy feel guilty or ashamed, and Isa never, never questioned Mandy about what she wanted.

It wasn't that day, but they did speak at length about Mandy's options, and today Mandy was seeing it through. As Mandy sat in the small waiting room of that clinic, surrounded by other people—some with full round bellies, some hoping to avoid the situation Mandy was in—she didn't feel judged or regretful. No, she felt supported. They didn't know why Mandy was there, just like Mandy didn't know why they were, but they were all there together. They all had the common bond that they needed help, and they trusted the people at this clinic to give it to them—whether that be prenatal care, or birth control, or an abortion.

Mandy closed her eyes for a moment. Nerves ricocheted through her body, but not because she thought she could be making the wrong decision. She was confident it was the right choice for her. One day she would cry tears of joy, not tears of sorrow. One day she would gleefully give up her body to create another, but that time wasn't now.

A breeze pushed in as the clinic door opened, fluttering the pages of the magazines on the table. Something told Mandy to glance up, but she almost couldn't believe who was there.

Isa pulled the strap of her purse back over her shoulder, it having slipped down when she came in the door, and she scanned the room. A light smile graced her face when her gaze connected with Mandy's, and a new sense of calm flooded over her.

"Don't you have finals or something?" she asked Isa as she got to the seat next to Mandy and pulled her into a side hug. The topic of Isa being there that day had never come up. Mandy knew how stressful Isa's school had been for her, and just being able to talk to Isa about it all was enough. Mandy had Isa's support—even though it was thousands of miles away—and that was enough to buoy her.

"I'm exactly where I need to be." Isa took Mandy's hand and squeezed it.

Mandy nodded, and rested her head on Isa's shoulder, inhaling the scent of Isa's coconut shampoo.

Nausea rolled around in Mandy's stomach as she slipped between the sheets of her own bed. Sick from the medicine she'd just been given, not from the decision she had followed through on. In that respect she felt relieved. Relieved and ready to puke. It was a strange combination.

"Just in case." Isa brought the garbage can from the bathroom and set it next to Mandy's bed like she knew exactly what Mandy was feeling—she always did.

"Thanks."

Isa placed a hand on Mandy's forehead. "You don't have chills or anything, right?"

Mandy shook her head.

"That's good." Isa glanced around. This was the first time she had been in Mandy's apartment. Was she thinking it was the first time Mandy's space didn't look like the inside spread of a home decorating catalog? Or was she noticing that there weren't any pictures of the two of them like there had been in her childhood bedroom? Or maybe she saw the photo of Mandy and Sophie at a pub in London, thinking how that should've been a picture of them. "I'll let you rest." Isa turned to leave, but Mandy grabbed her hand to stop her. Now that she was here, Mandy wasn't ready for her to go.

"Stay with me. Please. I don't want to be alone." It wasn't a lie. Although Mandy didn't regret what she did, she wasn't ready for the storm of emotions brewing inside her.

Isa was quiet, likely debating herself inside her head—weighing the pros and cons.

A cramp pulsated through Mandy's abdomen, and she gritted her teeth, trying not to show the pain on her face. It might've been selfish of her to ask Isa to stay, but she didn't want her to feel guilted into it.

"Just for a little while." Isa's voice was soft, and then she made her way around the footboard. The bed jostled as she lay on top of the covers.

Mandy carefully rolled over. "Thanks for being here today."

"What are friends for?" Why did Isa sound sad saying that?

"You'll have to thank Tally for letting you come for me." Mandy tried to chuckle, but it hurt too much.

"I don't need her permission," Isa retorted.

"I'm sorry. That's not what I—"

"No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped like that." Isa rolled over and met Mandy's gaze. "She doesn't know I'm here. She thinks I'm visiting Mamá and Abuela."

"Is everything okay?"

"It's fine. I just…" Isa let out a long breath. "She wouldn't understand is all. And I didn't want to fight about it."

It was then that Mandy really studied Isa—her cheekbones were more pronounced than Mandy remembered, and Isa looked as tired as Mandy felt. If things were different, Mandy would've asked Isa if she wanted to talk about it. A long time ago, Mandy wouldn't have even had to ask. But so much had happened between them that they each stayed quiet. Isa's thigh was so close to Mandy's that heat penetrated the layers of fabric that separated them. All Mandy wanted to do was reach out and touch Isa. Let their bodies connect in some small way. But the down blanket stopped her. Or it wasn't the blanket at all. How could they be this close and still feel so far apart?

Another cramp seized Mandy's stomach. Isa's fingers brushed against Mandy's head, the sensation lingering as she placed her hand there on Mandy's pillow. "You should rest."

But Mandy didn't want to sleep right then. She wanted to stay in this moment, staring at the turquoise stone in Isa's ring, feeling the tug of the mattress from the weight of Isa being there with her. If she tried, Mandy could forget about everything in the past and talk herself into believing this was just like before. When everything between them was perfect and wonderful. Before Europe, and Tally, and Theo. Because in a lot of ways it was, or it could be. No matter all of those things, she was still Mandy, and this was still her Isa.

Mandy thought about that night under the trampoline, and Grad Nite behind the gym, and all those times in the back of her car, and their first time—together. That seemed so long ago, and so much had changed, but somehow, they'd managed to find their way back here.