Dear Emily (Forever Family) (4 page)

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Present

Age 21

I’m on
my way to the ultrasound. The cab drops me off about a block away from the clinic, and I scrounge up change from the bottom of my purse to pay for my fare. I have no fucking clue how I’m going to get home. Shit.

I step onto the sidewalk and stare at the clinic that I’ve been coming to since I first found out that I was pregnant. I begin to feel the same anxiety that I felt on that first visit, and I take a deep breath to try to calm myself.

I’m five minutes late. Typical. I can never get anywhere on time. It’s a curse. So many things in my life are a curse.

I’m a curse.

I’m so nervous as I walk up to the door. What if she doesn’t show up?

I walk in and Carly is the only person in the waiting room, wringing her hands together and tapping her feet nervously. Her metallic blue painted toes peep out of her flip-flops. Her long curly hair is pulled away from her face into a loose ponytail with some curls cascading around her narrow face. Her dark brown eyes seem massive against her pale skin. She’s dressed casually and comfortably. And she’s a nervous wreck.

Shit. I made her wait. She probably didn’t think I was going to show up. It’s written all over her face.

I suck.

She raises her head as soon as I walk through the door, and her nervous expression begins to melt. Suddenly, she is warm and bright as a smile transforms her face. Oh my God, her smile.

Perfect.

I walk in, and she stands, slowly walking toward me as I scribble my name on the patient sign in sheet. The office assistant looks up, nods, and gives me a weird look. She knows. She knows what I’m doing, and she hates me for it. She thinks I’m a terrible person for not wanting to keep my own baby and that I’m a monster.

Stop! I need to stop these invasive and divisive thoughts.

She doesn’t know, and she isn’t judging. Is she?

I’m talking to myself. God.

I turn to Carly, and she is now only a few feet away from me. She extends her right arm as if she wants to shake my hand so I extend my hand and she grabs it with both of hers, squeezing. Her eyes meet mine, and they are glistening. Oh God, please don’t cry! I can’t handle this as it is.

“Hi,” she says.

“Hi,” I say softly, looking away.

We don’t have much time to stand here in this awkward stance because the nurse calls me back. “Tabitha Fletcher?”

“Y-yes,” I stutter. “I’m here and so is my… friend?”

The nurse looks between the two of us, nods her head, and motions for us to go back to the exam room.

I lead as Carly follows closely behind.

Once in the exam room, the nurse instructs me to get onto the table and lie down on my back. As she is prepping my stomach with jelly, she begins asking me questions.

“How are you feeling today, Tabitha?”

“Fine.”

“Any change since your last visit?”

“Nope.”

“Any discomfort or discharges?”

Gross
. “Nope.”

“Who is your friend?”

I’m silent for a moment, and Carly looks around the room as if fascinated by all of this equipment. Did she hear the question?

“She’s the… Um... She’s going to be… Um…” I’m struggling with the words and can’t seem to say them out loud.

The nurse raises her eyebrow at me and looks between the two of us as the wand hovers above my baby bump.

“She’s adopting my baby,” I say softly.

“Oh.” The nurse replies, and not missing a beat, turns to Carly. “Is this your first?”

Carly replies, “Yes, our first, and a gift. The greatest gift anyone has ever given to us.” Her dark chocolate eyes are glistening as she’s looking at the monitor. She grabs my hand and squeezes.

I suck in a breath and lay there silently as the nurse is moving the wand around my belly while snapping photos of the baby. My baby.

Carly’s
baby.

The nurse speaks again. “We already know it’s a girl. We found that out at her twenty-week ultrasound. Now that we are getting closer to her due date, we like to keep tabs on the little one and make sure she is growing appropriately.”

She smiles at Carly, then at me. OK. I can do this. I think.

She takes some more measurements, wipes my baby bump clean, and takes her gloves off.

“OK, we are done here. Tabitha, you need to be sure to get your adoption plan in place with Dr. Fisher’s assistant as well as the hospital. We want to be sure everyone’s wishes are followed.” She smiles at both of us and leaves the room.

Carly and I are alone again, and my awkwardness is back. She seems almost relaxed. My stomach is in knots, and I’m petrified that she is silently judging me.

Her demeanor is still. She stands up and offers her hand to help me off of the table. Her hand is warm, and her smile is back.

“Well, that was exciting!” she says.

“Yes, it is.” I answer. Although it’s also bittersweet for me.

As we walk out into the waiting room, I take the printed ultrasound pictures and hand them to her. She seems shocked as she reaches out to take them from me.

“She’s your daughter, Carly. You should have these.”

She’s speechless.

She reaches into her purse and hands me a twenty-dollar bill. She seems embarrassed and nervous about it.

“I want to pay for your transportation to get here and maybe a cup of coffee or something. Here, take this.” She quickly shoves the bill into my palm and closes my hand around it. “That’s weird, right?” she asks.

Knowing that I need the money to walk out the door, I just stare at her and give her a small smile as I slowly shake my head. “No. I appreciate it.”

We walk toward the door together and before we walk through, she stops, grabs me, and pulls me into a tight embrace. Her tears are flowing now, and she is shaking as she is holding me. She keeps whispering, “Thank You.” She says it at least ten times.

I have no words. I can’t say anything.

I push away from her and wipe my own silent tears from my cheeks, nod and walk out the door.

She is perfect. She is not me. Therefore, she is perfect.

I hail the first cab I see and quickly get in. I don’t look back because I know it will break me.

I’m jealous. I’m jealous of her and the life that she has.

I’m also now jealous of my baby. And the perfect life
she
is going to have.

New Brunswick, New Jersey

Past

Age 17

It’s Thursday
morning. The Thursday-after
-Wine-Wednesday. I’m dragging my ass, immensely hung-over. Manny, Becca, and Callie all left my room at various times last night, long after the jug of pink wine was polished off. Our red Solo cups are still piled in my sink. Are we supposed to re-use them? Whatever.

Callie was the last one to leave. Before she left, she whispered in my ear, “I know what you are going through, honey.” She kissed my forehead as I drifted off to sleep.

She knows what I’m going through? This will most certainly be a topic for an upcoming Wine Wednesday.

We agreed to meet at the clinic on campus by ten-thirty in the morning, and I’ve already blown off my Biology lab this morning at eight-thirty. This is going to continue to be a problem if Wine Wednesdays do indeed stay.

I run my fingers through my long curly hair then wrap it up into a messy bun. I pull on my stretch pants, long sleeved Nirvana concert t-shirt and step into my flip-flops. I grab a scarf, my jacket and head out the door.

The walk across campus is chilly, and I huddle in my jacket to keep warm. I’m looking down, trying not to make eye contact with anyone and end up walking right into a wall.

A person.

A wall of a person.

Oh. My. God.

Todd.

I nearly vomit in my mouth. His eyes are like razors as he looks down at me and grins. “Hey. You?”

After what he did to me, he still doesn’t know my fucking name.

I stare blankly at him. “Carly, it’s Carly.
Remember?
Halloween.
Remember?
” I don’t know where my attitude and strength is coming from, but I’m glad I’m not cowering away from him.

He stiffens a little bit, chuckles nervously, and says, “Yeah, uh, Carly. Right. Pussycat. Hot night. I’ll see you around.”

He winks and then saunters off, continuing the conversation with one of his buddies.

So I vomit. Not on myself, but in the nearest garbage can.

Fucking pink wine.

Fucking Todd.

I arrive at the clinic just as Becca is walking up. She runs up to me and hugs me. “This is going to be great, Car. Just great. You are going to get tested, get a clean bill of health, and we are all going to be fine. Just fine.” She is nervous.

I’m not sure if she is nervous for me, all of us, or herself. I can’t quite read her, so I say, “Yeah. I’m not so worried about you guys because you, Callie, and Manny are always so careful. But Todd. ICK. He probably sneezes Venereal disease.” I chuckle anxiously. I’m actually scared to death.

We walk in to find that Callie and Manny are already there.

Manny comes over to us and gives us each a kiss. “Ladies, I’m already done. Left my deposit. I’m late for Astronomy. Bye.” He flashes a tight smile and waves behind his back.

“OK,” I say. “Let’s do this.”

We walk into the waiting room, and Callie immediately goes behind the counter. Since she is interning here, she has already signed us in, and even completed most of our paperwork. Besides my social security number and my insurance ID, my paperwork is complete. I glance up at her with a questioning look.

“I got here really early. I’m trying to make it easy and painless for you honey.” She smiles, and I try to relax. Yes, she is making this easy. What’s
not
easy about getting your insides scraped with cold a speculum between your legs?

Right.

Easy.

I barely have time to fill my social security number in when another nurse comes out and calls my name. Callie and Becca look at each other nervously. “Good luck,” they say in unison. They both smile softly at me, and I quickly look away.

I follow the nurse into the exam room and listen to her instructions. “Take all of your clothes off and put on this gown. Lie on the table and wait for the Physician’s Assistant, Jean. She’ll be in shortly.”

I do as she says.

Jean, the PA, is punctual and comes in almost right away.

Yay me.

She has a clipboard with her and a pen with Mickey Mouse ears. Really.

This is certainly not a Disney moment.

The interrogation begins.

“When was your last period?”

“Last week, the twenty-second.”

“Are you sexually active?”

I pause. “Yes? I mean does one time count?”

“Of course. Have you had intercourse?”

“Yes,” I say quietly.

“Are you experiencing any discomfort?”

“No. I mean, not now.”

I am starting to get shaky at this point because I know where this is going.

“What do you mean, not now? Have you had painful intercourse?”

“Yes,” I whisper and a tear slides down my cheek.

PA Jean looks up, and her face softens. She frowns and asks, “Did something happen to you, Carly? Can you tell me about it?”

I’m silent for what seems like forever. She doesn’t budge. She only holds my stare longer.

“Yes. I had sex, um, that I didn’t want… ugh!”

At this point, PA Jean gingerly places her clipboard on the table next to her and sits down in the chair next to me. She keeps her hand on my ankle and says, “Carly, whatever you say is confidential. We protect your privacy no matter what. You can tell me what happened, when it happened, and let me try to help you.”

I tell her. Not everything. I didn’t tell her about the dozen Swedish Fish shots that I did and that I passed out immediately following the rape.

I
did
tell her that he forced himself on me, in me, and
it
hurt. A Lot. Burned.

I tell her that I had blood on me the next day and lots of dried fluid on my thighs. I tell her that the bruising on my thighs and wrists finally disappeared last week, and I am finally starting to feel normal. ACK! What
is
normal?

After a brief silent pause, she takes a deep breath, and her eyes soften even more.

“Carly, first, what he did was wrong. Very wrong and you can prosecute.”

“NO!” I can’t believe that word came out of my mouth. “No, I can’t,” I continue. “I want this to be over with and behind me. Everyone saw me leave with him. I’m a freshman! I don’t want this to follow me around for four years!”

I’m sobbing now; snot and tears are dribbling down my chin and face. I can taste my salty tears, and I’m starting to feel nauseous.

“OK, Carly, it’s OK.” Her hand is still on my ankle. “So let’s move on, shall we?”

She begins to explain the exam that I’m about to get in detail. I am not ready for this. I don’t want to be touched or prodded there. I keep thinking about the burning sensation caused by Todd forcing himself on me. Into me. I’m so apprehensive. I know that Jean isn’t going to hurt me, but I feel so damaged and violated already.

She pauses and waits for me to calm down. I do my best and then she proceeds to perform my pelvic exam. I relax as much as I can, and it’s over relatively quickly. Thank God.

When it’s over, she pushes away from the table, takes off her gloves, and makes some notes on her clipboard. Her warm smile finds my face again.

“I didn’t see any internal bruising or tearing, so that is good. However, it has been a few weeks, so you obviously healed over that time. We will take a urine sample to test for pregnancy, but since you had your period just last week, I’m confident you won’t be pregnant. I’ve also taken internal samples and will call you in a week when the results are in. Now, if you’re ready, I’d like to talk to you about a birth control method that suits you.”

“Birth control?”

I hesitate.

“I haven’t had sex since–” I stop.

Breathe.

Continue.

“Since it happened, and I’m not in a relationship…” My voice trails off.

“Carly, I don’t want to force anything on you that you don’t want. Just think about it and let me know. OK?” She smiles.

She hands me pamphlets on all of the various pills, shots, and implants.

Then she hands me a business card with a phone number on it. The school counselor. Great. A Shrink. Just what I need.

“Make this phone call, Carly. Dr. James is a wonderful lady, and she is a great listener. Please consider it. She can help you deal with all of the questions and feelings you are experiencing.”

She backs away slowly, turns, and leaves the room.

God. What just happened?

I clean myself up, get dressed, and walk slowly out of the room.

Callie and Becca are both waiting by the nurses’ station for me. Becca is first to reach out and gives me a hug. I can tell she’s been crying, and I make a note to add it to the next Wine Wednesday agenda.

Callie looks toward me and says, “OK?” She smiles at me with her eyes. Becca squeezes my hand.

“OK.” I lie.

Callie goes back to work, so Becca and I walk back to our dorm with our arms looped through each other. In silence.

I’m not OK.