Ready or Not by Cara Bastone EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Cara Bastone
- Language: English
- Genre: Friendship Fiction
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
I didn’t start this day thinking I’d be handing over a Dixie cup of my
own urine to a woman in lavender scrubs.
“What’s the verdict?” I ask about seven seconds after the nurse dips the
stick into the cup on the other side of the exam room.
She is one of those ageless people whose fluffy gray-brown hair could
have been that of an unfortunate thirty-five-year-old or a banging hot fiftyfive-year-old. Her face gives away nothing as she looks up at me.
“The doctor will be in to discuss your results, Ms. Hatch.”
AKA, I’m not gonna be the one to tell you there’s an egg in your biscuit.
“Call me Eve and, look, you can just tell me. I’m sure you can read the
stick as well as the doctor can. I know I’m pregnant anyways. I took three
tests on my own. I did the research.” (On the train on the way over here.) “I
know that false positives really only happen for women who were just
recently pregnant or taking certain fertility meds. There’s no way I’m not
pregnant.”
I’m telling her. I’m telling myself. I’m telling the universe, because the
facts are grounding me. I’m trying to be realistic here. I refuse to be secretly
hoping for either outcome.
The nurse’s face shows zero signs of life. Maybe that’s the secret to her
ageless success. If one never, ever moves one’s face, one can look forty in
one’s seventies. I make a mental note to start having fewer emotions.
Probably a super achievable goal right at the beginning of an unplanned
pregnancy, right?
“The doctor will discuss it with you. Now, I just need some basic info
from you.” She has me hop on a scale and then takes my blood pressure.
I’m shocked when I don’t blow up the machine like a desktop plugged in
during a lightning storm. She confirms my family history. And then the fun
questions begin.
“Are you sexually active?” she asks the computer screen.
“You know, the term ‘sexually active’ has always been so weird to me. It
doesn’t make sense. If I had gone on one run in the last three months and
that was it, no one would classify me as being physically active.”
The nurse gives me that blank look as her hands twitch over the
keyboard. Obviously, she is waiting for me to answer the damn question.
“But you schtup one bartender . . .” Apparently, I can’t resist.
Her blank look evolves into a slow blink.
“Anyways,” I continue through a small cough.
“Miss . . .” the nurse prompts.
“Right. Yes. I had sex about four weeks ago. If that answers your
question.”
Her fingers type-type-type away, sealing my fate into the computer. I am
now, officially, an irresponsible sex-haver. Add it to my permanent record.
My eyebrows rise as the nurse continues typing. Thirty seconds pass.
Another fifteen. I don’t think had sex once four weeks ago should possibly
take that long to input. What is she, writing a novel over there? A diary
entry? Updating her blog?
Finally, she looks up. “Date of last period?”
“I don’t know. I’m really irregular and I don’t keep much track.
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