Harvard Hottie (16 page)

Chapter Twenty-Two

Okay, this is almost too embarrassing for words.

I’m sitting in my doctor’s office, wearing a gown so that goosebumps run up and down my skinny arms. I came in under the guise of being overdue for my annual exam, but pretty much the second I got in, I ’fessed up the real reason I came in, which is that I wanted to be checked for STDs.

My doctor is named Dr. Booth, a woman whose age I can’t pin down any closer than “well over sixty,” who is possibly one of the first female doctors in the country, and always seems a little disapproving of everything. And before now, I’d never actually given her anything to be disapproving of.  But here’s the thing—Luke was lying about a lot of things, so who’s to say he wasn’t lying about his sexual exploits? Maybe he really did go through with seeing that prostitute. So I had to explain to Dr. Booth that I had sex with someone with a questionable past and thought I needed to be checked out and… well, let’s just say that she gave me quite a frowning.

“Oh, Eleanor,” she sighed, shaking her head. “And you didn’t use a condom?”

I feel like some stupid kid in a high school after-school special. Why oh why didn’t we use a condom? At the time we started having sex, it seemed like Luke and I were in competition for the Abstinence Olympics. Plus, and I’m going to be totally straight here, Luke depended a lot on direct sensation in order to keep his erections. So wearing a condom made him fizzle a bit. I’m sure he would have worn one anyway if I asked him to, but I greedily preferred the erection. Now I’ll probably pay for it with a scorching case of herpes.

“I didn’t realize he’d been with so many other women,” I explained awkwardly.

Dr. Booth sighs again, like she doesn’t know what to do with me, and I don’t blame her. I was stupid. It will not happen again.

So I’ve donated both urine and blood for sampling. I’m getting the golden STD screening panel, including all the best diseases, like gonorrhea, Chlamydia, syphilis, hepatitis C, and best of all, HIV. When Dr. Booth said that, I practically fainted. I can’t really imagine Luke Thayer having HIV, but they say anyone can have it, right?

As I sit alone in the examining room, waiting for Dr. Booth to come back in, I hate Luke just about as much as I ever did.

It’s now been over a month since Luke and I broke up. He’s made a few low-key attempts to make amends. He’s sent me flowers and candy. Probably the most important thing he’s done is not fire anyone at my company. I’m not sure whether he’s still working up to it, or if this is something he’s doing for me. In any case, it doesn’t matter. It’s over between me and Luke. And I suspect he realizes that.

After I’ve been waiting in this tiny, freezing exam room for what feels like hours, Dr. Booth enters with a grim expression on her face. My stomach sinks. Oh God. It’s bad news, for sure. Oh shit, do I have HIV?  Oh no oh no… but wait, doesn’t that test take days to come back?  So, maybe it’s just gonorrhea then. Please let it be gonorrhea.

“Eleanor,” she says in a low voice.

My heart is pounding so hard in my chest, I can barely hear my own voice eke out, “Yes?”

“You’re pregnant,” she says.

I’m… what?

No, I can’t be pregnant. I can’t. I mean, I literally cannot be pregnant. “That’s impossible,” I say. “There must be some mistake.”

“It’s not a mistake,” Dr. Booth says.

“Yes, it is,” I say confidently. “I haven’t had sex since my last period. So I can’t be pregnant.” Unless it was an immaculate conception.

“Ah, yes,” Dr. Booth says, “but was your last period normal?  You know, sometimes when the fertilized egg implants, there can be some bleeding.”

Oh no.

She’s right. My last period was much lighter than normal. I attributed it to the stress of the break-up and didn’t think anything of it.

“What were you using for birth control?” she asks.

My face turns red. “Nothing,” I admit.

Okay, I know that sounds bad. Initially we were using a condom but stopped because of the sensitivity thing. I thought about going on birth control pills, but seriously, Luke doesn’t ejaculate. So it seemed pretty pointless to have to take a goddamn pill every day when there was no sperm to be found anywhere. But I guess all it takes is one little tiny sperm.

“So are you really that surprised then?” Dr. Booth asks.

“Well, he’s a quadriplegic,” I say, turning even redder. “So he doesn’t, um, you know…”

Dr. Booth is looking at me like I’ve completely lost my mind.

“Anyway,” she says. “When was your last normal period?”

“Maybe two months ago,” I say. I still can’t believe this is happening. “But I don’t feel sick at all. Are you sure that test is right?”

“There are no false positives,” she assures me.

I bury my face in my hands. This is really awful. I think gonorrhea would be way better. I’m pregnant. I’ve got Luke’s baby growing in my uterus. And now I’ve got to figure out what to do about it. If I had gonorrhea, I could just take antibiotics. I really wish I had gonorrhea.

Dr. Booth folds her arms and looks at me. “I don’t do terminations here, but do you want the number for Planned Parenthood?”

“Yes,” I say quietly. “That’s probably a good idea.”

“I assume the father is no longer in the picture,” she says.

I nod, knowing that if I wanted Luke to be in the picture, he would be.

“You’re not so young anymore, Eleanor,” Dr. Booth says. “After 35, a woman’s fertility starts to decline sharply. You should think long and hard about your options.”

I sit there, feeling ashamed of myself like an irresponsible teenager. How could I let this happen? And now I have to figure out what I want to do. No matter what, I know it’s going to be the hardest decision of my life.

***

The first thing I do when I get out of the doctor’s office is to buy a pregnancy test. I don’t entirely believe the results and I’m hopeful maybe they mixed up my urine sample with someone else’s. That happens, doesn’t it? Once again, I feel like a slutty teenager as I buy the pregnancy test. I feel like the clerk notices the lack of a ring on my finger and knows I got knocked up because of my own stupidity. I’m thirty-four years old—I should be allowed to be pregnant at my age!

My hands are shaking as I read the instructions on the test in the privacy of my bathroom. It’s pretty simple: you pee on it and one line is not pregnant, two lines is pregnant. It’s supposed to take two minutes for the test to read positive, but within thirty seconds, there are two solid lines on the test strip.

And ditto with the second test. And the second box of tests.

Shit. It’s true.

In the past, I’ve contemplated a situation in which I might not get married. I’ve met a lot of jerks and it occurred to me that I might never meet the right guy. But I never once considered becoming a single mother. I had two parents and I feel like that’s the way it’s supposed to be.

Yet… while I’m pro-choice in theory, I feel like the rules don’t quite apply when it comes to me. I don’t know if I feel comfortable having an abortion. It seems like the kind of thing I’d always regret. I’d always be thinking how old the baby would have been each year, what developmental milestone they would have reached if I hadn’t ended the pregnancy. What if this is my baby? What if this is the baby I’m meant to have?

But I don’t want to do this alone. And I don’t want to do it with Luke, not after the things I’ve found out about him.

I don’t think I have a choice in the matter. I don’t want to let my carelessness ruin my life and to have a child without a father.

Chapter Twenty-Three

I call Planned Parenthood and schedule the procedure for the next weekend on Saturday. I don’t tell anyone about my pregnancy, not Jenna, not my parents, nobody. Most of all, I don’t tell Luke. I recognize that if I get rid of the pregnancy, he can never find out. I think it would hurt him too much.

I guess I do feel guilty that I’m not telling him about it. Yes, it’s half his DNA. But the thing is, it’s in my body. I’m the one who would have to go through nine miserable months of pregnancy (well, seven at this point, but still), ruin my body, go through a painful labor, and then either become a single mother or go through the pain of giving my baby away. I think it ought to be at least 90 percent my decision. And I’ve made my decision. So I don’t see the point of torturing him by telling him about it.

Yes, I’m a real humanitarian.

However, Luke, who seems to be somewhat psychic, calls me the very same day I schedule the appointment. I see his number pop up on my cell phone and I’m seized with an overpowering urge to talk to him. Which is the reason I can’t pick up. If I do, I’ll spill the beans. I know myself.

He leaves a message. His voice is formal but a little hesitant: “Ellie, when you get this message, can you give me a call back?”

I don’t know what he wants to talk to me about, but I’m not going to call him back till Saturday evening.

However, when Luke, who usually is Mr. Restraint, calls again half an hour later, my curiosity is piqued. He is usually very cool and reserved, not the kind to call multiple times within the hour. Is there any chance he could know about the pregnancy?  No, it’s not possible. But I’m going crazy wondering what he wants to talk to me about, so I have no choice but to call.

“Hello?” I say into the phone.

“Ellie!” Luke sounds so pleased to hear my voice that I get a little tearful. These pregnancy emotions are really ridiculous.

“Hi,” I say cautiously.

“It’s, um, been a while, huh?” he says. I always liked the sound of his voice. It tugs at me a little.

“Yes,” I say.

“Listen, Ellie.” He clears his throat. “I… I wasn’t going to bother you. I wanted to give you your space and all, but the thing is that…”

I hold my breath, waiting for his big confession of his love.
Ellie, I love you. I can’t live without you.
Well, it’s not good enough. It doesn’t change anything.

“The thing is,” he goes on, “my dad died last night.”

My jaw falls open. Despite how fragile his father looked when I met him, this was the last thing I expected Luke to say. I hear his breathing change slightly and I realize that he’s crying on the other end of the line. Luke’s crying. I can’t believe this.

“Oh, Luke,” I whisper.

“Ellie,” he says, his voice breaking slightly. “I’m sorry to do this to you, but… I really need you.”

I hesitate. Seeing Luke right now could be disastrous. I can’t let anything break my resolve to go through with the procedure on Saturday. I can’t let one torrid affair ruin my life.

“Please,” Luke whispers. I have to admit, my heartstrings have been effectively pulled.

“I’ll be right over,” I say.

I drive to Newton. I channel Luke as I navigate the treacherous streets of Brookline and practically run over an old woman with a walker, but I get there in fifteen minutes, door to door. I’m slightly breathless as I knock.

Luke answers the door looking awful. He apparently still made it to work today, because he’s wearing a shirt and nice pants, but his shirt is wrinkled, his hair is sticking up all over the place, and his eyes are red and puffy. When he sees me, his eyes fill with tears. “Ellie,” he says. “Thanks for coming.”

“Are… you all right?” I ask as I walk in, feeling lame because he obviously isn’t all right.

“I guess,” he says.

“Let me make you some tea,” I say, because I must think I’m in England or something.

“I don’t really like tea,” he says.

“Oh,” I say.

He rubs his eyes. “I just want to talk, if that’s okay. I didn’t want to… to be alone.”

I nod. We go into his gigantic living room and I sit on the couch. He stays in his wheelchair, instead of transferring to sit next to me like he usually does. I guess it’s still kind of awkward between us and he’s respecting my space.

“I shouldn’t be this upset,” he says. “My father and I… we didn’t get along. Obviously.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

“It wasn’t always like that,” he says. “When I was a kid, he was so proud of me, of everything I did. Then after I got hurt, there was nothing I could to please him. Even all the money I made for the company, it meant nothing to him. He was so ashamed of having a son who was disabled.”

He buries his face in his hands. “Ellie, I was so ruthless. I really did everything I could to make as much money as possible, just to get his approval. I was a total asshole. I did what I had to in order to make Thayer Industries the most powerful company in Boston. I didn’t do anything illegal, but God, it was really hard to sleep at night.”

I can’t believe he’s confessing all this to me. He was so adamant in his insistence that the rumors were untrue. All I can say is, “Oh.”

“But it didn’t fucking matter,” he continues. “No matter how much money I made, Dad didn’t care. I thought I could show him that… that I was just as good as before. But I couldn’t. All he cared about was that I couldn’t walk. And once I gave up on that, he gave up on me.”

“I… I’m sure that’s not true,” I say gently.

“It’s true,” he says. He looks up at me with his bloodshot eyes that are so sad, I want to reach out and hug him.

And as I look at Luke, I start to remember how sexy I found him, and he looks so sad and pathetic, the opposite of his tough and confident work persona, which somehow makes me want him even more. Luke’s body isn’t great, but it’s human and it’s sexy as hell to me. Nobody’s perfect, especially not me.

He seems almost shocked when I lean over and start kissing him. At first it seems inappropriate, considering his father died last night, but he’s not stopping me and in fact, seems to want it just as bad or even more than I do.

He transfers onto the couch and we peel off each other’s clothing, all the while kissing each other desperately. God, these hormones are making me really horny.

I put my hand on Luke’s penis as we kiss, but I notice my attempts aren’t getting him hard. “Sorry,” he whispers when he realizes what’s going on. “I didn’t take my pill, so I can’t… you know. Do… you want me to take it?”

“No, it’s okay,” I say. I do want to have sex with him, especially now that I know he’s free of STDs. (At least I am. All the tests came back negative.)  But I also like the idea of just lying naked with him and kissing and touching. After all, Luke is probably better with his mouth than any other part of his body.

Luke and I lie there kissing for over an hour. We are so sweaty by then that our bodies are nearly stuck together. I’m wet as hell by that point, but Luke doesn’t try anything. I’m glad because I doubt I’d have the willpower to refuse him.

Luke kisses me on the lips. “Ellie,” he murmurs. “I really love you.”

“I love you too,” I almost say. But then I remember that as attracted as I am to Luke, as much fun as we have together, this isn’t the past. I know things about Luke that can’t be taken back. He’s a heartless, ruthless businessman. Is this the man I want to date? To marry? To be the father of my child?

Absolutely not.

And I need to get out of here before I say or do anything I’ll regret.

“I have to go,” I say.

Luke seems alarmed. “Ellie, no, don’t go! I’m sorry I said that. I was just… you know, thinking aloud. I didn’t mean to pressure you.”

“It’s not that,” I say. “It’s… complicated.”

Luke’s brow furrows and for a second, I want SO badly to tell him everything. But I can’t. I have good reasons for not telling him about my pregnancy. It will kill him to know, especially considering I’m planning to get rid of it.

“Okay,” he finally says, his shoulders sagging.

“I… I’ll call you next week,” I say.

He raises his eyebrows. “Aren’t you coming to the funeral?”

“Oh. Uh, when is it?”

“Saturday morning.”

The same day as my appointment at Planned Parenthood. Of course.

“I actually, um…” I bite my lip. “I have plans that day.”

Luke’s face falls. “Oh.”

“I’m so sorry,” I say. “I really wish I could be there.”

He nods. “I know. You’re a good friend, Ellie. I understand.”

I look into his damp eyes though and see that he doesn’t understand. He’s hurt. And he doesn’t have any
real
friends who will be there for him, to help get him through this difficult time. I’m all he’s got.

“Okay,” I say. “I’ll be there.”

Who’s to say I can’t go to a funeral in the morning and have a pregnancy termination in the afternoon?

***

As I sneak by Sadie’s apartment on the way home, I am extra quiet because I really, really don’t want to have to talk to her right now.

Still, I
’m a little surprised when her door doesn’t immediately shoot open. And that surprise turns to confusion when I smell something burning coming from her apartment.

Cursing to myself, I go over to Sadie
’s door, and press my ear against it, listening for any sounds. I hear the television, but that’s it. I’m sure she’s okay. She’s probably just watching television. I shouldn’t worry. I really shouldn’t.

But of course, I’m worried. So before I can stop myself,
I ring her doorbell.

No answer.

My stomach clenches up. I know she’s probably okay, but... I’ve never smelled anything burning coming from her apartment before, and it’s just strange. I ring the bell again, but there’s still no answer. And now I’m seriously getting terrified.

I start banging on the door as hard as I can, although I suspect it
’s a lost cause. I feel tears springing to my eyes. As much as I found Sadie annoying at times, the thought of something having happened to her is terrifying. I can’t discover her dead in her apartment. I just can’t.

I
’m outright sobbing when I hear a loud bang come from the inside of the apartment. I jump backwards, and a second later, the door is yanked open. I expect to see Sadie, but instead I see a scrawny half naked man, also in his eighties. Luckily, his top half is the naked half.

“
Oh,” I stammer. “I... I’m so sorry. I... I was looking for Sadie.”

The man smiles at me with teeth that I
’m pretty sure are dentures. He shouts out, “Sadie!”

I quickly wipe my eyes self-consciously as I stand awkwardly at the door. A minute later, Sadie appears in her housecoat, her white hair mussed. She smiles brightly at me.
“Hello, Ellie! I see you’ve met Melvin, my suitor.”

Oh Lord. I start to laugh through my tears.

“Ellie...” Sadie squints at me. “Are you all right?  Have you been crying?”

“
Sort of, “ I admit. “I just... I smelled something burning in the apartment and you didn’t answer, so I thought... I thought...”

“
Oh, dear!” Sadie gasps. “I’m so sorry you were worried. I was trying to bake some hamantaschen for Melvin, but unfortunately, it didn’t come out as well as the batch we made for your Luke.” 

Ol
’ Melvin throws his arm around Sadie’s shoulders and gives her a kiss on her white pouf of hair. “I love you anyway, Sadie,” he says.

It
’s so cute, I could just die.

Sadie insists that I come in, even though I
’m horrified to have interrupted them while they were... well, I don’t want to think about that part. Sadie puts up a kettle of tea and she sits me down on her sofa while Melvin is in the bedroom putting the rest of his clothes on.

“
We should double date,” Sadie says to me, as she settles down next to me on the couch. “You and Luke with me and Melvin.”

I laugh.
“That’s a nice idea, but Luke and I broke up.”

Sadie looks heartbroken.
“You didn’t! He was wonderful. How could you?”

“
He wasn’t as wonderful as you think,” I say.

“
Don’t tell me that,” Sadie says, patting her hair. “I met him and I know he’s a good boy.”

“
You met him for five minutes.”

“
That’s all it takes,” she insists. “I was a human resources director for thirty years, and if there’s one thing I know, it’s how to judge a good egg.”

I had no idea that Sadie had a big career when she was younger. I can
’t even imagine her wearing anything besides a housecoat, much less a suit. “You didn’t tell me you were a human resources director.”

“
Well, what do you think!” Sadie shoots back indignantly. “That I spent my whole life sitting around the house dusting doilies?”