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Chapter 136

Over the next two weeks, Claire tried to stay busy, in an attempt to keep herself from constantly wondering whether or not she was pregnant. Dr. Nevin had told her she could try a home pregnancy test two weeks after the embryo transfer, but waiting until then was torturous. The progesterone shots had side effects that mimicked those of pregnancy, so whenever she noticed something out of the ordinary – tender breasts, streaks of moodiness, cravings that were more intense than usual – she always wondered, was it caused by the natural hormones of pregnancy, or just the progesterone she was injecting into herself?

Dwelling on it was going to drive her crazy, so she did what she could to take her mind off of it. After taking another day off to rest following the embryo transfer, she’d gone back to work, taking more than her usual hours to make up for the days she’d already missed for the IVF and the days she’d miss in the future if she did turn out to be pregnant. She cooked dinner every evening when she came home, more to keep her thoughts from wandering to babies than to be a “good wife.” She spent more time scrapbooking and reading, and she and Jamie often went to the movies or rented DVDs to watch at home, in a desperate attempt to lose themselves in the fictional lives of others.

Despite all of her attempts, the two weeks passed slowly, and by July fifteenth, she couldn’t take the suspense anymore. Work that day dragged by, and whenever she did not have a patient to focus on, her mind returned to the realization that, as of the next morning, it would be exactly two weeks since the procedure. Enough time for a pregnancy test to reveal whether it had been successful or not.

When her last patient of the day had walked out the door, she cleaned up her cubicle quickly and clocked out a few minutes early. Driving away from the dentist’s office, she headed straight for the grocery store. She needed groceries for dinner, she reasoned, but when she walked into the large, brightly-lit store, she bypassed the aisles of food and headed straight for the small pharmacy within.

***

Standing in front of the open refrigerator, Nick made a face. The stainless steel interior was gleaming and sparkling clean… but almost completely empty. He’d cleared it out before he’d left Tampa five months ago, throwing away everything that would spoil, and now all that was left were a few cans of beer and some condiments. He knew he couldn’t make a meal out of beer and ketchup, so he slammed the door shut and hopefully tried the cupboards. They weren’t much better; as he banged through the cupboards, all he could find were canned foods and baking ingredients, nothing that sounded particularly appealing to his growling stomach.

He thought about just ordering a pizza and had already picked up the phone when he changed his mind and hung up, sighing. Groceries, he thought. I need groceries. He hated grocery shopping, but he was going to have to do it at some point – he was here in Tampa for a week, and he couldn’t live on delivered pizza and take-out the whole time, not with an album coming out soon. He needed to be in good shape, and he’d decided last year that the acne-ridden doughboy look didn’t suit him.

Having just gotten home from the airport less than an hour ago, Nick didn’t feel like leaving again, but he resignedly grabbed his keys and pulled the BMW out of his garage. It was good to be back in Florida, he decided as he navigated the familiar streets, even if it was only for a few days. He liked it out in LA, but Florida would always be his home. He wished he had a good reason for flying back, but he was really only here for his twice-annual check-up with Dr. Kingsbury. He’d planned to go to Orlando to hang out with Howie one day too, and maybe he’d give Claire a call at some point, but then again, maybe not.

He had thought about her a lot over the last few months, but hadn’t talked to her much. He’d get ready to call her and then stop himself, realizing he wouldn’t know what to say when she picked up. Beyond the usual “Hi, how are yous,” what would they even talk about? They had nothing in common anymore, he and Claire. They were living two different lives now, she, a married woman with a husband and a career on the east coast, and he, a single musician with an album in production on the west coast. From the few times he had heard from her, she’d seemed happy, and he was doing just fine without her, so maybe that was it. They just didn’t need each other anymore.

And yet, why am I still thinking about her? Nick asked himself as he pulled his car into a parking space at the grocery store and reluctantly climbed out. He decided it was just the territory. When he had gone to LA to start work on the last Backstreet Boys album, he and Claire had still been together, and coming home to Tampa had meant coming home to her. She had been the only thing here that mattered to him then, so of course he still thought of her when he flew back for a few days.

Even so… You need to stop that, dude, he scolded himself as he walked into the store. She’s married now. It’s over.

Out in LA, it was easy enough to tell himself that, easy enough to forget about her. But back here, walking through the store where they’d bought their groceries together, the memories of her still haunted him. He couldn’t get over how happy he’d been, even just going grocery shopping with her, snickering as he snuck random, weird items into the cart and waited for her to notice, laughing at the most outrageous tabloid headings she never failed to point out as they stood in the check-out line. It was the little things in their relationship that he’d loved, the normal, everyday stuff they’d done when they were living together. And those were the things he missed most.

They hadn’t always been happy when they were together; certainly, they’d had more than their fair share of ups and downs. But still, even though he was happy now, proud and excited as he was over his album, sometimes he felt like there was something missing in his life, a part of him that had been torn away the day she’d moved out of his house. Sometimes he feared he’d never be truly happy again without it.

“Excuse me… you’re blocking the grapefruit.”

Starting, Nick realized his mind had wandered far away from the produce section. “Oh, sorry,” he said sheepishly, pushing his cart ahead so that the older lady who had spoken could reach the bin of grapefruits. He grabbed a small bag of oranges from the next bin over and hurried away, pushing his cart into the nearest aisle. He walked through the aisle quickly, deciding he didn’t need any more canned goods, and turned into the next.

That’s when he stopped, his mouth falling open as he looked ahead of him.

He would not have thought it probable… it was way too coincidental, considering he had just been thinking about her… but there she was: Claire, taking a jar of salsa off the shelves at the other end of the aisle. He stood and watched, temporarily rooted to the spot, as she set the jar down in her cart and looked up. He could tell the exact moment when she spotted him; even from a good fifteen feet away, he saw her eyes widen in recognition.

Claire broke into a smile. “Nick!” she called as she pushed her cart toward him, walking briskly. “What are you doing here??”

“Grocery shopping,” Nick announced with a grin, motioning to the lone bag of oranges in his cart.

Claire stuck out her tongue. “Well, obviously,” she said teasingly, “but what are you doing here, in Tampa? Last I heard, you were in LA.”

“I’m just back for a few days. Doctor’s appointment,” he explained, and she nodded knowingly.

“How’s the album going?” she asked.

“Good, really good. I just shot the video for the first single last week.”

“Oh, cool! I can’t wait to see it! When’s it coming out?”

“The single’s supposed to be released August eighteenth, last I heard.”

“Wow, that’s coming up… only a month away!”

“Yeah, the summer’s flying by, huh?”

Claire laughed. “Yeah… but sometimes, not fast enough.”

There was a strange tone in her voice that he couldn’t place, but he could tell something was going on; something was on her mind. “So what’s been up with you?” he asked, looking her over. She looked good, healthy, happy, despite the hesitation in her voice. Still, he wondered.

“Oh… not too much,” she said, and again, he sensed her hesitation. But she went on, “Hey, I’ve started cooking more! Look at this…” She motioned to her cart of groceries. “I’ve made dinner every night for the last two weeks. Aren’t you proud of me?”

Her expression was teasing, and Nick chuckled. “You mean you haven’t poisoned hubby yet?” he kidded her, his eyes dropping absently to her cart. There wasn’t much in it, just enough for a couple night’s dinners – a loaf of bread, two cans of soup, a package of pasta, a head of lettuce, and so on. Then he noticed the one product that didn’t seem to belong among the groceries: a little white box with the letters e.p.t. on it.

Recognizing the brand and what it was for, he looked up at her in surprise.

***

Standing in the middle of the condiment aisle with Nick, Claire saw the look that registered on his face when he spotted the home pregnancy test. She hadn’t meant him to see it, but there it was, sitting in the middle of her groceries, the only non-food item there. Of course he had seen it.

He met her eyes, his round with surprise, and the corners of her mouth twitched with a smile. She was so eager to go home and take that test, so excited by the idea that she could be pregnant, that she could not help herself. “We’ve been trying in vitro,” she confessed quietly to Nick. “I just started my first cycle about a month ago and had three embryos implanted into me at the beginning of July.”

Nick raised his eyebrows. “So you don’t know if you’re pregnant or not?” he asked, gesturing to the box in the cart.

She shook her head. “It takes about two weeks before you can tell. It’ll be exactly two weeks tomorrow, but I can’t wait any longer; I’m gonna go home tonight and…” She looked down at the box, her pulse quickening. “… hope for the best.”

“Wow…” said Nick. Offering her a smile, he added, “Good luck. I hope everything turns out the way you want it.”

His voice was sincere, and she smiled back, grateful. “Thanks.” She didn’t know what else to say, afraid to say too much and end up making him feel uncomfortable. Apparently he was having a similar problem because, for a few seconds, neither of them spoke. Finally, Claire said, “Oh, just in case you would happen to run into anyone while you’re here… no else knows we’re trying this yet, okay? Not my family, not Dianna or Laureen – no one. So-”

“Don’t worry; I’ll keep it on the DL,” Nick promised, winking.

He looked surprised, though, that she hadn’t told anyone, so, feeling she should explain, she added, “I wanted to tell them, but we figured it might be better to wait and see how this first cycle goes… we don’t want to get everyone’s hopes up, only to have it fail, you know? And statistically, there’s a good chance of it failing, so…” She trailed off, shrugging, not wanting to jinx herself. “Besides, if I’d told my parents, it would only be fair for Jamie to tell his mom, and… well, you’ve never met Mrs. Turner, but oh my God, she would drive me nuts. She’d be calling every day to see how I’m doing and check for any news and make sure I’m taking care of myself and doing everything the doctor ordered. Of course, if I do end up pregnant, she’ll be doing that anyway once she finds out, but I’d like to keep the months of that to a minimum. She’s a nice woman, she means well, but she’s… well… annoying,” Claire confessed, sticking her tongue out as she thought of her mother-in-law. She’d always been secretly glad Jamie’s mother had moved back to Iowa and was still living there now, far, far away from her son and daughter-in-law.

Nick chuckled. “Well, as long as she means well.”

“Yeah…” Claire laughed. “Hey, I’ll take nine months of her checking up on me if it means having a baby. I just hope this works…”

Nick offered her a reassuring smile, and all he said was, “I hope so too.”

He was a sweetheart, as always, but as Claire stood in the checkout line later, she couldn’t help but go over their conversation in her head, thinking they had seemed just a little too… polite?... around each other. The conversation had been friendly, but, in a way, awkward. It could have just been the talk of pregnancy and in vitro fertilization, a topic most guys wouldn’t care to discuss in the middle of a grocery store, but no… the awkward vibe had been there even before that.

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why. She knew it was as weird for him as it was for her, but probably more painful, the fact that she was now married to Jamie when she had once been engaged to him. She understood, though she didn’t want to accept it. She loved Nick as a friend and wanted him in her life, but she knew that her marrying Jamie had alienated him. She’d never wanted to choose between them, the two most important men in her life outside of her own father and brother, but the way they saw it, she’d already made her choice. She had married Jamie. And in doing so, she had hurt Nick, the man who had always been there for her and would never hurt her, if he could help it. And though she’d always been by his side, too, hoping to take his pain away, she didn’t know how to heal these wounds, the wounds she’d inflicted upon him herself.

***

Claire had dinner ready when Jamie got home from work that evening, but even as she stood in the kitchen, inhaling the aromas of the hot food, she couldn’t imagine herself actually eating the supper she had prepared. Her stomach was too full of butterflies already, and her mind could only focus on one thing – the unopened pregnancy test sitting in the bottom of the grocery bag on the counter.

“Smells good,” said Jamie, sniffing the air as he walked into the apartment, briefcase in hand. “What are we having?”

“Hi to you too,” Claire returned with a wry smile. “I made a casserole. But first…” She came up to him, taking his briefcase and setting it on the floor, then wrapped her arms around him, rising up on her toes a little to plant a kiss on his cheek. “There’s something we need to do,” she exhaled, sinking back to her heels. “I’ve been waiting all day; I can’t wait any longer. C’mere.”

She grabbed his hand and dragged him over to the grocery bag, retrieving the small box from inside. When she held it up with an eager smile, his eyes widened. “Oh my- Is it-? Wow, I guess it is time…” Faltering, Jamie trailed off, staring at the pregnancy test in her hand. “Well… should we try it?”

“Uh, yeah, we should try it!” Claire exclaimed, smacking him playfully. “I couldn’t wait for you to get home so we could!”

Jamie grinned. “Do you think you are?” he asked, his eyebrows shooting up hopefully. “How are the boobs today?”

Laughing as he tried to fondle her, Claire twisted away and chirped, “Let’s find out, shall we?” She took the box and went into the bathroom, warning him over her shoulder, “You’ll probably want to wait there for this first part.”

“What? I like watching you pee on sticks!” Jamie’s muffled voice rang through the bathroom door as she shut it, laughing.

Her giddiness faded quickly, her nervousness taking over again as she opened the box and pulled out its contents. She skimmed over the instructions, paying special attention to the possible indicators she could see on the test stick when she was done. Two pink lines meant she was pregnant. One pink line meant… well, she hoped she’d see two. That sounded simple enough.

She did what the instructions asked her to do and set the test stick on the edge of the bathtub without looking at it. When she emerged from the bathroom, Jamie looked at her expectantly, but she shook her head. “We have to let it sit for a few minutes.”

“Oh. Right.”

For a few seconds, they just looked at each other, exchanging nervous smiles. Then Jamie put his arm around her, pulling her into a hug. “It’s gonna be positive,” he murmured into her ear, as he rubbed her back reassuringly. “I’ve got a good feeling about it.”

Claire laughed into his chest. “Well, okay then, O Wise One, if you say so. Since when did you become psychic, huh?” she teased. Even so, she appreciated his optimism.

“This is gonna work,” Jamie insisted. “If not this time, then next time. But I’m telling you, Clairie, I think this is it. It’s meant to be – you, me, and our baby.”

“Could be babies,” Claire reminded him, arching an eyebrow.

“We could only be so lucky,” he smiled, hugging her close again. “Is it time yet?”

Claire eyed the partly-closed bathroom door, her stomach in knots. After a few seconds, she nodded. “Let’s go check.”

He held her hand as they walked into the bathroom together. “What’s it supposed to look like if we’re pregnant?” Jamie asked.

“Two pink lines… no matter how faint, it has to be two,” Claire murmured as they crept towards the bathtub. Squinting her eyes so that they were almost closed, she reached down and carefully picked up the test stick from the rim of the tub. With Jamie holding her from behind, his chin perched on her shoulder, she sucked in a breath and held it as she raised the stick to eye level.

She exhaled first, Jamie shortly after, as they both gazed into the test window.

One bright pink line gleamed starkly against the white backdrop inside the window.

And next to it, much paler, but still visible, was another.

***

Two distinct screams merged into one as Nick jerked upright, blasted awake by the screeching AC/DC song on his clock radio. The details of the dream he’d been having faded quickly as he reached over to slap off the alarm and check the time.

It was early, and at first he thought he was due in the studio. But when he looked around and realized he was in Tampa, he remembered otherwise. He was due at the cancer clinic instead, for his appointment with Dr. Kingsbury.

“Damn,” he grumbled, wiping his hand wearily over his face. But he knew he had no choice; he’d already postponed this appointment by a month to get some extra recording time out in LA, and he’d learned long ago what could happen if he missed a check-up. So he reluctantly dragged himself out of bed and into the bathroom for a shower.

***

Claire lingered over her shower in the morning, carefully inspecting her body for changes as she washed, the way she had every morning for the last two weeks. Her hands followed the trail of soap suds across her collarbone and down over her breasts, which were not only tender, but fuller than they had been. Whether caused by the progesterone or the pregnancy or a combination of both, she liked the change. She ran her hand over her stomach next; it was as flat as usual, but she couldn’t help but wonder, prematurely, when she might start showing.

A flutter of excitement passed through her, making the hair on her arms stand on end, despite the hot water, as she thought again of the pregnancy test last night. It had clearly shown a positive result, even though she and Jamie had passed the stick between them several times, asking, “Are we sure? Are we sure that’s a pink line?”

The line had been faint, admittedly, but there was no denying it was there, and in the instructions, it had even said it didn’t matter how faint or bold the line was. Two lines indicated a pregnancy, and there had been two lines.

After a lot of hugging and kissing and squealing (on Claire’s part), she had run to call the fertility clinic. No one was in, as it was after five p.m., but she’d left a message on the clinic’s voicemail, and to her great surprise and excitement, the receptionist had called her back first thing that morning to let her know there was an appointment slot open if she wanted to come in for a blood test to confirm her pregnancy.

With her new working schedule, she was off on Wednesdays anyway, so she had eagerly taken the appointment. Jamie had gone into work early, promising to put a few hours in and come home in time to go with her to the clinic. Realizing he would probably be home soon, she finished rinsing and turned off the shower, wrapping herself in a big towel as she stepped out of the tub.

***

Nick stepped off the scale as the nurse jotted down his weight on the chart in her hand. “You’ve lost a few pounds since the last time you were here,” she observed off-handedly. “Of course, that was over six months ago.”

“Yeah, and I was still fat from steroids then,” he replied, shuddering at what the prednisone had done to his body last year. Thankfully, the effects of the steroid were nothing but a bad memory by now. As he changed into the gown she gave him inside the examining room, he actually felt pretty good about the way he was looking. He’d been working out again, wanting to be in good shape by the time his album came out. So far, he was happy with the results.

When he was changed, the nurse came back into the room to take his temperature, pulse, blood pressure, and all the usual readings. When she had finished charting his vitals, she smiled and said, “Dr. Kingsbury will be in to see you in a few minutes.”

***

“It’s good to see you in here today,” said Dr. Nevin with a smile as she walked in. “So I hear you got a positive result on a home pregnancy test last night?”

Claire returned the smile and exchanged glances with Jamie. “Yes, we sure did.”

“Well, that’s fantastic news. Most of the over-the-counter brands are very reliable, but just to be sure, we’ll draw some blood today and test it for hCG, the pregnancy hormone. I’ll put a rush order on it so the lab will get to it before you leave today. Then, if it shows you are pregnant, we’ll get you back in here early next week for an ultrasound.”

“Great,” said Claire, relieved to hear that by the time she and Jamie left this room, they would know for sure whether or not they were expecting.

Dr. Nevin perched on a stool next to a tray of instruments the nurse had set up for the blood draw. “I’m sure you’re an old pro at blood tests,” she commented knowingly, as she tightened the rubber tourniquet around Claire’s upper arm.

“Oh yes, enduring them is one of my many talents,” joked Claire, dutifully holding out her arm. Jamie grimaced, looking away as Dr. Nevin slid the needle into a vein in the crook of her elbow, but Claire went ahead and watched as the syringe filled with her blood. She’d never been particularly squeamish about body fluids anyway, but even if she had, she would have had no choice but to get used to blood and needles. There was no avoiding either one in the treatment of leukemia.

“Wuss,” she muttered good-naturedly to her pasty-faced husband as she lay holding a cotton ball to her elbow a few minutes later.

Jamie just closed his eyes and shook his head. “Masochist.”

***

I wonder how many pints of blood I’ve donated to this hospital’s lab by now, Nick mused as he sat on the examining table, poking at the cotton ball that had been taped securely to the spot on the inside of his arm where they’d drawn his blood. He couldn’t complain, though; a simple blood draw was better than a bone marrow aspiration, and thankfully, Dr. Kingsbury hadn’t put him through one of those this time.

He was dressed and waiting when the doctor returned, clipboard in hand, to give him the usual verdict. Like always, he couldn’t help but watch her face carefully as she walked in, looking for any hint of the liberating “all-clear” sign or the dreaded “we have a problem” look.

Thankfully, Dr. Kingsbury smiled easily. She didn’t even bother to hang his chest x-rays on the light board like she usually did; instead, all she said was, “Your scans looked good, Nick; nothing to worry about that I could see. If your bloodwork gives us any surprises, I’ll call you, but I don’t expect any.”

Nick nodded with the usual relief. “That’s good to hear. Thanks.”

Dr. Kingsbury patted his shoulder. “Of course. As always, if you notice anything out of the ordinary, give the office a call, but if not… I’ll see you back for a check-up in a year.”

“A year?” Nick repeated in surprise; usually his check-ups were six months apart.

The doctor nodded. “Standard procedure – once you’ve been cancer-free for long enough, we don’t need to see you every few months, as long as you’re continuing to feel well.”

“Wow… so I’m good to go then for awhile, huh?” Nick couldn’t help but smile; it was amazing to hear that coming from Dr. Kingsbury. She was not known to be liberal with her optimism; he was used to hearing things like, “We don’t like to use the word ‘cured’ until a remission has lasted five years,” from her. Then again, he had been in remission for three-and-a-half, so maybe the rules of the game were changing as he got closer and closer to beating it for good.

Dr. Kingsbury smiled back. “That’s right. You’re all clear.”

***

Dr. Nevin was smiling when she came back into Claire’s exam room. “I have good news for the two of you,” she announced, holding up a clipboard that Claire assumed contained her chart and, hopefully, the results of her labwork. She listened closely to the doctor’s next words.

“The blood test revealed that Claire’s hCG level is at 390. Anything between 5 and 500 is considered normal at this stage of embryonic development, which means-”

“I’m really pregnant?” The joyous phrase bubbled out of Claire’s mouth before Dr. Nevin could keep talking.

Pausing, the other woman smiled. “That’s right. You’re pregnant.”

***