Monica’s got an OB/GYN appointment today and I’m going to this one. Somehow she’s managed to schedule every single appointment at times I couldn’t manage. But this one is first thing in the morning, and Sam and I are driving there together, just to make sure I don’t mysteriously have the time wrong.
“I’m glad you could make it today,” Sam comments as he drives uptown to Dr. Wong’s office. “It sucks the last two appointments didn’t work with your schedule.”
“Yeah,” I mutter. “Too bad Monica doesn’t have access to my calendar.
Oh, wait.”
He gives me a sideways glance. “What is that supposed to mean?” “I’m saying it’s a bit of a coincidence, that’s all.”
He comes to a stop at a red light. “Are you saying you think Monica is purposely scheduling her appointments at times you can’t make?”
“No.” But I’m heavily implying it. “It’s great that you could make all the appointments though.”
“Well, my schedule is a little more flexible than yours.”
It’s true, although I have a feeling she checks with him before she schedules anything. For some reason, Monica wants Sam at those appointments. He even drove her to the last appointment, and at work she couldn’t stop gushing about the amazing job he did parking his car in some tiny little spot. He must have eaten that up.
“What is she always texting you about, anyway?” I ask him.
He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Mostly math stuff.” “Math?”
“Yeah.” He nods vigorously. “You know, Monica really knows her stuff
—she’s got a brain for it. I know she’s set on going back to school for graphic art, but I’m trying to talk her into a math degree. She could do it.”
“And what does she say about it?”
“She’s thinking about it.” A guy cuts Sam off and he curses under his breath, but doesn’t honk. “She wants to apply to our program, but I thought that might be awkward because… well, you know.”
“Gee, you think?”
Sam lets out a sigh. “Look, let’s not talk about Monica anymore.
Okay?”
“Sure. What do you want to talk about?”
“I don’t know.” He grins at me. “How about baby names? We don’t have much time left to decide.”
I can’t help but return his smile. “I’m not going to cave on Adam.” “What’s wrong with Adam? It’s a great name. Biblical.”
“Adam Adler? It’s a little too much alliteration. Sounds like the civilian identity of a Marvel superhero.”
“What about Jacob?”
“No. I dated a guy named Jake.” “So?”
“So it would be weird!”
“Fine.” Sam rolls his eyes. “What about Richard?” “I also dated a guy named Richard.”
“Matthew?”
“I also dated a Matthew.”
He snorts. “Maybe we need to look to more international names to find one that you haven’t already dated.”
“Okay, but keep in mind, I spent a semester abroad in Italy.” “Yeah, I don’t want to know.”
It’s sort of odd in a way how Sam and I haven’t discussed our prior relationships much. I know he’s had girlfriends before me—it would be weird if he hadn’t since we didn’t start dating until we were in our mid- twenties. If I ever asked him about it, he’d say something vague about it being in the past, then ask me why I wanted to know so badly. Or he’d make some comment about them, like, “The relationship wasn’t a big deal.” It irked me because I worried someday he’d be talking to a future girlfriend about me, and say, “Abby wasn’t a big deal.”
Of course, then when we got engaged, I recognized our relationship was a big deal to him, so I put that particular worry out of my head. But I was still curious about his previous girlfriends. Maybe because I couldn’t imagine any girl breaking up with a great guy like Sam, but at the same time, it’s hard to him imagine him dumping anyone. I can’t picture him having a conversation like that.
We arrive at Dr. Wong’s office with enough time for Sam to find parking and then walk over together. I can’t help but notice that while we walk to the doctor’s office, he doesn’t hold my hand like he usually does. But I suppose this isn’t really a hand-holding type of atmosphere.
When we get into the waiting room, Monica is already there. She stands up when she sees us, and my jaw falls open. She usually makes an effort to hide her baby bulge when she’s at work, but now she’s wearing a blue maternity shirt with a string that ties just below her large boobs, and… God, she looks so pregnant. I shouldn’t be surprised because she’s nearly seven months along, but wow, she’s big. There’s no question of there being a baby in there.
Sam’s baby.
Monica’s face lights up at the sight of us. As we get closer, she rushes over and throws her arms around Sam’s shoulders. If my jaw weren’t already hanging open, that would have done it. I had no idea Sam and Monica had a hugging type of relationship. Sam especially is not much of a hugger. He’s very affectionate with me, but he’s ranted before about how he dislikes random displays of affection from friends or relatives. The only person I want to hug or kiss is my wife. And maybe my mother.
And Monica, apparently. Because he is definitely not pushing her away. Monica waves at me—I don’t warrant a hug. I can’t stop staring at her midsection. I can’t get over how big she is. Whatever she’s been doing to hide it at work is admirable, but it’s clearly not going to work for much
longer.
Sam seems equally mesmerized by her stomach. He keeps looking at it and finally feels compelled to comment, “The baby’s getting big.”
She nods eagerly. “And active! He’s been kicking up a storm today.” He smiles. “Oh yeah? That must be something.”
“It is.” She returns his smile. “Here, feel.”
And then she picks up his hand and places it firmly on the bulge of her abdomen. To his credit, Sam looks embarrassed, but he doesn’t pull away from her. He allows her to hold his hand on her belly. After a few moments, his eyes widen. “Oh, wow! That’s incredible!”
“Isn’t it?” she laughs. “It’s like he’s always keeping me company.”
Monica removes her hand, but Sam doesn’t move his. He’s still got his palm pressed to her midsection, feeling the baby shift. He’s got a silly grin
on his face. “Abby,” he says, “you’ve got to feel this!”
I don’t want to touch Monica any more than she wants me to touch her.
Fortunately, we’re saved by a nurse calling out Monica’s name.
The three of us are heading to the back, but the nurse stops us. “I’m so sorry,” she says, “but we only allow one other person in the room during pregnancy checks. It’s just a rule we have.”
What kind of stupid rule is that? Monica’s eyes immediately go to Sam, and it’s obvious who her preference is. But Sam quickly says, “Abby, you should go. I was already at the last two appointments.”
Monica’s lips set into a straight line. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, it’s fine.” He smiles crookedly. “I’ll just wait out here. I got to feel the baby, so that’s the best part.”
Monica doesn’t speak to me at all on the way to the examining room, clearly pissed at me for being here when Sam is not. She makes a point of walking several steps ahead of me, so she doesn’t even have to look at me. And when we get to the examining room, she regards me coolly and says, “Would you mind stepping out so I can change?”
“Sure,” I say, not mentioning the fact that she was fine with me being there when she changed during the first visit.
I step outside the room, but it’s clear she’s not going to call me back inside until the doctor arrives. Which is fine because the last thing I want is to be standing awkwardly in that room with her.
Dr. Wong comes walking down the hall, her white coat hanging loose on her shoulders. She sees me standing outside the room, and her eyes widen in surprise. “Oh!” she manages.
“Hello.” I give her a half-hearted wave. “I’m Abby. I don’t know if you remember me from the first visit…”
“Yes, yes, of course.” Her smile is strained. “Sorry, I just… somehow I didn’t realize you were still involved.”
I blink at her. “What do you mean?”
“Well.” Her cheeks color. “Monica’s husband has been here for the last couple of visits, so I thought…”
“Monica’s… husband?”
Dr. Wong nods. “Yes. He’s maybe in his thirties, brown hair, glasses, fairly, um,… attractive.”
“Sam?”
She snaps her fingers. “Yes, that’s right! Sam.” “No, Sam is my husband,” I correct her.
“Oh!” She laughs. “Well, I suppose that makes more sense, doesn’t it? I could have sworn they said he was her husband though.”
I want to tell Dr. Wong she’s got it wrong, but I can’t quite get the words out. All of a sudden, I get this horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. I can imagine Monica telling the doctor that Sam is her husband— that seems consistent with her recent behavior. But Sam would never have gone along with it. If the doctor had asked him, he would have told her that he wasn’t Monica’s husband. He would have corrected her.
Wouldn’t he?
