Between Octobers

April 1st

April 1st

I started taking birth control pills the month after I turned thirteen. When I got my first period, Aunt Rose took me to the gynecologist. It was the exact opposite of what my mother would've wanted and I kind of resented her for it at the time, but I was raised to do what I was told. So I did. I took them faithfully and still got pregnant three times.

Maybe four. But I wouldn't know for sure until Dr. Grainger called.

It went without saying that I was more than a little worried about Evan's reaction. He'd said it outright. He was not interested in having his own children. Mine were enough and he loved them like they were his own.

I had yet to find an appropriate time to bring up my potential dilemma and I didn't know if I should, being that I had no news to deliver beyond suspicion. And Evan already had so much on his mind. Why upset him without cause?  

He'd been getting back to the hotel later and later—sometimes, not until two or three in the morning. They had one week to finish filming and the rigorous schedule was why I'd stayed home. I was getting in the way, distracting him, Sheri said. She said Evan would kill her for saying anything to me, but she was still calling because it really was that important. And when I told Evan I wasn't coming, he didn't even sound upset.

Over the past few days, we'd been having short, unusually open conversations. I spent most of the calls listening to him talk to other people. He was multitasking, trying to fit in our conversation while he worked. Something he usually tried to avoid, but I couldn't exactly complain since he was sincerely trying.

During our last conversation, there was an overtone that hinted at a general lack of interest. He was much less animated, not at all enthused when I picked up. In the beginning he couldn't wait to talk, overly eager for the time to pass and counting the days until I got to him.

Then, he stopped asking—assuming I'd be coming and he worked rigorously throughout the visit. That didn't bother me so much—I understood he was very busy and his job was important to a lot of people, but it hurt when he stopped making the time.

I attributed the change to his lack of sleep and all the stress, but couldn't shake the feeling that something was really wrong.