Ghosts (A Christian Yelich Story)

Chapter Forty-Eight: Jonah Hill

Surprise.

***

"Are you going to pick my mom up from the airport in the morning?" I asked Hannah. "I have a set call at 4:00 am, so I'm not going to be able to make it. She's going to hate me."

"She's your mom. She loves you, and she'll understand you have to work," Hannah replied. "You look really tired. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm totally fine," I lied. Honestly, I was drained. My body hurt, my head hurt, and I was feeling a bit of vertigo. "Just a little tired from the early morning calls. You know how I feel about waking up before 8:00 am."

I was finally back on a movie set. Mentally, I felt fantastic. Now that I had won a Golden Globe and a BAFTA, I was overwhelmed by a sense of relief. I didn't have to prove myself any longer. I could just enjoy my work and take roles that made me feel good about the entertainment industry. The Academy Awards were about a week away, and, at this point, I didn't care if I took one home or not. This was all enough for me. I was content.

"Is your mom staying through the Oscars?" Hannah asked me.

"Yeah, I finally landed my dream date!" I exclaimed. "She has a dress appointment tomorrow afternoon. I have a break in filming, so hopefully I can join you two. I really want to spend time with her."

"We'll make sure that happens," Hannah said confidently. "Are you sure you're feeling okay?"

"Yes! Why do you keep asking me that?" This was the third time she asked me the same question in the past hour or so. Did I look like a dead person?

"You just seem a bit out of sorts? I can't quite explain it. You need to get back on set, though. Let's grab a snack and get you over there." Hannah held her hand out to me, so she could pull me up from the couch.

***

We had to re-shoot the same take about ten times at this point, and I was struggling to stay on my feet; my vertigo was giving way to extreme dizziness. My "coworker," Jonah Hill, was having a difficult time finding the right inflection for one his more serious lines, and I was losing energy pretty quickly.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" I asked Jonah. I genuinely wanted to coach him through this. Ten takes wasn't that bad, but it was above average, especially for him. I just didn't want to get to one hundred. I knew I couldn't handle that right now.

Jonah smiled at me. "Nah, I'll get this. I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," I said sincerely, getting back into place for the scene. "I won't ask again until take one hundred."

Jonah laughed. "I'll get this right by take twenty. Promise."

And he never got to fulfill that promise because, at take nineteen, I collapsed to the ground. At least that's what everyone told me.

***

"I don't understand why you didn't tell me that you're not feeling well." Hannah shook her head in disappointment – much like my mother had done when she caught me in a lie as a child.

I looked around the makeshift, curtained-off hospital room in which I was trapped. "I'm sorry, but I'm honestly good to go. I think a trip to the emergency room was completely unnecessary. So was the blood draw."

"Annie, you fell on the ground. Like, you just crumpled. That's extremely abnormal. Please just tell me what's wrong."

"I told you already – I'm just tired. And being tired made me a little dizzy and gave me a bit of a migraine, but none of that is new to me."

"Fainting is definitely new. Are you eating?"

"You see me eat. Please trust me when I say I'm good. I just need to get more sleep."

Hannah sighed. "Okay, but I'm telling your mom about this."

I laughed and then Hannah laughed too. "Please don't, though. She'll worry herself to death."

Before Hannah could reply, a young doctor with a kind face joined us behind the curtain. 

"Good afternoon, Ms. Delaney. I'm Dr. Katie Boyd." She flashed me a bright, Los Angeles smile and held out her hand to me. I shook it briefly.

"How are you feeling?" she asked. "I think you terrified Jonah Hill. He's pacing in circles around the waiting room," she said.

"No, frantic is just his natural state," I joked. "I feel fine. Just tired – like I was telling my friend Hannah here."

She smiled at me again, "Well, the good news first: your baby is perfect. The stress didn't induce any problems that I can see . . ."

She kept talking, but I couldn't hear or feel anything. Just numbness. Even my vision was blurry.

I don't know how long I spaced out for, but when I locked back in, Hannah was yelling my name and tapping my thigh repeatedly. When I looked up at her, I noticed all the color had disappeared from her face. I knew I looked the same way.

"I"m so sorry, Ms. Delaney. You're probably about eight or nine weeks along, so I figured you found out already. I didn't mean to surprise you." Her tone was genuinely apologetic, but there was absolutely no way I was pregnant. No. Way. Scientifically impossible.

I still couldn't find words, so I just nodded. What else was I supposed to do?

"Your hCG levels are at their highest at this point in pregnancy, which means you're going to experience peak morning sickness," she rationalized. "This explains most of your symptoms. The fainting spell is probably because you're not nourishing your body well enough to support a child. You're pretty vitamin deficient right now. We need to fix that for the well-being of both of you."

"My stomach feels completely normal. I haven't gained any weight that I've noticed. I haven't vomited. I can't be pregnant." The beautiful professional woman standing in front of me was obviously inept, right? That was the only explanation. "I'm on birth control too. I've never missed a day in ten years."

"Your medical history indicates you were on antibiotics for a sinus infection back in December; apparently you got pretty sick in November and you needed a little medical help to completely kick the illness. Were you sexually active during the time you were on antibiotics?"

Fuck, fuck, FUCK. At this point, Hannah had her hands covering her face. "Oh my God, Annie," she whispered. She definitely knew I was fucked.

"It could be a false positive, right?" I asked Dr. Boyd. This question represented the last of my lingering hope.

Dr. Boyd shook her head and looked at me sympathetically. "I'm afraid not. You're more than a month into your pregnancy, so false positives aren't a factor now."

I could feel hot tears streaming down my face. My heartbeat was spiking, and my palms started to sweat. I looked down and noticed Hannah had interlaced her fingers with mine, and she was a little teary, too.

"We'll figure this out," she said, her voice soft and stoic. She tried to smile at me. But it didn't look like her normal Hannah smile. It was forced. And a little sad.

"Okay," I whispered.

I'd take care of everything, and he'd never have to know.

It's okay. It's okay. It's okay. This would be my mantra until I actually believed it.