The Consequences. Colette Freedman
12
Thursday, 26th December
There were four shelves of pregnancy-testing kits, all in neat, discreet boxes, most of them in a blush pink with the word accurate built into the title, and most promising instant results. The large print said ninety-nine percent accuracy, while the smaller print suggested that results might vary from person to person and to consult a doctor.
Stephanie walked up and down the shelves, picking up toothpaste and shampoo—which she didn’t need—before she eventually grabbed the first box she looked at and walked toward the counter. The Walgreens was practically empty, and she was bundled up in a heavy coat she’d borrowed from CJ, so she knew she was unrecognizable, but she felt like a teenage girl buying a packet of condoms before the prom. On an abstract level she found her embarrassment almost amusing; where was the gutsy, ballsy executive who ran multimillion-dollar advertising campaigns?
The Hispanic girl behind the register checked the toothpaste and shampoo through the scanner without even looking at her, but stopped when she came to the pregnancy-testing kit and turned it over in her hands. Stephanie noticed that each nail had a tiny glittering stone set into it. “Oh, this one is very good,” she said. “I used it myself.”
Stephanie felt herself begin to color. “And is it accurate?” Her tongue felt too big in her mouth.
“I used it a week after I missed my period, and it was able to tell me that I was pregnant.”
“Oh. Good. Congratulations.” Stephanie didn’t think the girl could be older than seventeen, maybe younger, but it was hard to tell.
“Thank you. Little boy, called him Chavez after his poppa.” The girl bagged the items, took her cash, and made change in one smoothly practiced movement. “Have a nice day,” she said, smiling brightly.
“Thank you,” Stephanie said as she walked away. She chuckled at the girl’s naïveté. Starting off the day with a pregnancy test was not her idea of having a nice day.
The second she got into the car, she opened the box and pulled out the single sheet of instructions. They were fairly straightforward, and she glanced back toward the store, wondering if it had a bathroom, then shook her head at the absurdity of the thought; she didn’t want to discover if she was pregnant in a Walgreens restroom. Turning the key in the ignition, she gently eased her father’s Buick out onto the road. The snowplow had been through earlier, and the streets had been salted, but she was still not entirely comfortable driving, and she crept home, the needle hovering just under thirty. Although home was only a three-mile drive, she felt the journey lasted an eternity.
Option one: If she were pregnant, she would need to return to Boston, meet with Robert, talk about the future.
Option two: If she weren’t pregnant, she’d stay in Wisconsin through the New Year, enjoy her family, and return to Boston to start afresh. She would concentrate on her job, rebuild her boss Charles Flintoff’s confidence in her. And ensure that she never saw Robert Walker again.
CHAPTER 13
Stephanie Burroughs waited for the plus sign to appear.
She sat on the edge of the bathtub with the plastic dipstick held delicately in her hands. She was intensely conscious of the moment. She remembered reading somewhere that in one’s life there were a very few seminal moments—usually no more than five or six. She wondered if this qualified as one . . . or should it have been the moment she made love to Robert, which had placed her in this position?
The house was quiet. Everyone had gone out for a walk. She could hear floorboards crackling and settling, the water tank filling softly overhead, the hiss and thump as snow slid off the roof onto the ground outside. The bathroom was warm, lightly scented with someone’s mint shampoo, and the edge of the bath felt hard and cold beneath her thighs.
If she was pregnant, she would book a flight—no matter how much it cost, no matter what route she had to take—and return home.
If she wasn’t pregnant, she’d borrow a pair of boots and the heaviest coat she could find and run and kick her way through the snow. Then she would lie on the ground, and move her arms and legs to create a snow angel.
A positive sign appeared on the stick.
Stephanie looked at it for a long time and abruptly exhaled. She hadn’t realized she was holding her breath. Her one overriding emotion surprised her: relief. At least now she knew. She then went downstairs, logged onto her father’s computer, and booked a flight back to Boston.
CHAPTER 14
FROM: [email protected]
TO: robert.walker@R&KProductions.com
SUBJECT: Returning to Boston
Robert,
I’m coming in via Delta leaving Friday 27th (tomorrow), then connecting through Detroit with a flight into Boston, arriving around 9:30 in the morning.
You offered to pick me up. Does that offer still stand?
If you cannot meet me on Saturday, then make time on Sunday. This is important.
Leave an e-mail at this address. I can check it from the airport.
Stephanie.
CHAPTER 15
Friday, 27th December
Toni and Matt accompanied their daughter to the airport.
Madison’s Dane County Regional Airport was just eight miles away, and Stephanie was thrilled she had managed to get the last available seat on a Delta flight to Detroit. The idea of spending another hour and a half in the car driving to Milwaukee with one of her family members suffocated her, and she had opted instead to fly out of the smaller airport, despite the ridiculously long layover she would face in Detroit. Still, she needed to get back to Boston and preferred a quiet overnight in a Detroit hotel to another claustrophobic night in her childhood home.
She saw her mother’s head turn and, even before the words were out of her mother’s mouth, Stephanie knew what she was going to say.
“Are you sure you have to go, Stephanie?”
“Yes, Mom.”
“But you barely got here.”
“Well, I did say it was a quick visit. And we did get to spend Christmas Day together.”
“Leave her alone, Toni,” Matt said.
Stephanie caught a glimpse of her father’s eyes in the rearview mirror. He was watching her closely; he alone of all the family knew the real reason she was returning to Boston.
Her mother turned away to stare out to where the fields were giving way to houses. She surreptitiously—but very obviously—brushed tears from her cheeks. “And how are you feeling?” she asked, slightly emphasizing the last word.
“Fine, Mom.” Stephanie had thought long and hard about telling her mother the truth about the test, but in the end had decided to keep it a secret for the moment. No doubt her mother had already told the entire family that she suspected Stephanie might be pregnant. She knew that her sudden reappearance home for Christmas had already been one of the main topics of conversation. She needed to get out of this environment, talk to Robert, make some decisions.