Chapter 14
THE DAYS DRAGGED by after Simon left, and Blaise filled them as she always did, with work. With Susie Quentin back in Miami, there was no one else lusting after her job for the moment, and she was working on upcoming specials, doing her morning segment, and planning interviews abroad. She put off the trip to Lebanon. She wanted to stay home for a few weeks to make sure that Becky was working out with Salima. Neither Blaise nor Salima had any real objection to her, although Salima said she was boring. She had the personality of a mouse, and she started off on the wrong foot.
She took Salima’s clothes out for her in the morning and put the toothpaste on her brush for her, trying to be helpful, and Salima snapped at her that she wasn’t a child, she was almost twenty years old. Abby had done it for her, and Salima had liked it, but Simon had led her into a whole other world and treated her like an adult. Salima texted him several times a day, and he always responded. Salima always went discreetly into another room to listen to his texts, so she could hear them in private and not upset her mother. But Blaise didn’t hear a word from him after he left, and was sure she wouldn’t. She didn’t call or write to him either, and hearing the sorrow in her mother’s voice, Salima didn’t mention him anymore, or tell her about the texts.
“I’m sorry, Mom, about Simon,” she said one Sunday night, when Blaise was trying to cook them dinner. She was roasting a chicken, and attempting one of his recipes for risotto. She burned the chicken beyond recognition, and the rice turned into cement.
“I’m fine,” she said about Simon, trying to believe it. She had to be. He wasn’t coming back, and she had to take care of Salima and work. She couldn’t afford the luxury of falling apart over a man, no matter how much she had loved him. She had learned that lesson with Andrew. And as though he had radar, Andrew had called the day after Simon left. Blaise didn’t take the call and didn’t even care. And for the first time, she knew she would never answer his calls again. She had no desire to talk to Andrew. She was finally healed. Loving Simon had freed her, no matter how it worked out in the end.
“I guess I need a class at Cordon Bleu,” Blaise said when they ordered sushi after she threw away the charred chicken and inedible rice. The smell was awful.
Becky had offered to cook for Salima, but her cooking was even worse than Blaise’s. Blaise felt like they had lost so much when Simon left. The laughter in their house. The excitement for Salima over their outings. Delicious dinners. Someone for her to talk to at night, who cared about her. Now Blaise was left with silent evenings, too much work, and no one to ask her how she was. The only thing that made the atmosphere a little better was Salima singing with Lucianna or practicing every night.
By Valentine’s Day, he had been gone for three weeks, and it felt like a year to Blaise. Salima was starting to adjust to Becky, who was trying hard. They had made Valentine cupcakes that afternoon, for Salima to give to her mother to cheer her up. She knew how sad she was even though she didn’t talk about it or mention Simon’s name. And when Becky said something about him in passing, Blaise always fell silent and changed the subject, or left the room. She had bought a special Valentine cake for Salima, made with artificial sweeteners. It was a big chocolate heart with pink icing, which was a rare treat for her. But with careful planning, Salima could indulge from time to time. And Salima had bought her tulips too.
Lucianna joined them in eating the cake after their lesson, and she asked Salima with some concern if her mother wasn’t feeling well. Blaise was so depressed she looked sick. In her office, Mark was worried about it too and tried urging her to see her doctor, which she refused to do.
“I don’t need a doctor,” she told him. “I’m just feeling down. No one ever died from that.”
“You look too sad,” he told her. “You’re starting to turn green. You either need a vacation, or a visit to the doctor to make sure you’re okay, or a new boyfriend.”
“I’ll settle for my trip to Morocco to interview King Mohammed VI in two weeks.” It would be the first trip she’d taken since Simon left. She felt confident she could trust Becky with Salima now. Becky was both knowledgeable and diligent about Salima’s pump. She was going to interview the king and do a special on his fabulous fleet of fancy cars. He had priceless Aston Martins that he flew to England for maintenance and repair. And a lovely wife whom Blaise was going to interview as well.
But a week before the trip, she was in bed with the flu and felt like death. She missed two days of work, which wasn’t like her, and when she went back to the office, Mark put his foot down.
“Let’s talk straight here. I don’t care how fine you say you are. You look like someone exhumed you. You never miss work, and you just did. I don’t think you’ve eaten in three weeks, and to be honest, Blaise, you look like shit. If you get any thinner, you’ll disappear. And I can tell you don’t feel good. And you think you’re going to make it to Morocco and back? I like my job, and if you drop dead in Rabat, I’ll be out of work.” She smiled at what he said, and she wouldn’t admit it to him, but she felt as bad as she looked. Her stomach had been somewhere around her knees since Simon left, and she never ate dinner anymore. She was so exhausted that she came home and went to bed. “I’m so sorry Simon left and things didn’t work out.” He hated her being alone again, and he could see how bad she felt.
“I’m just depressed,” she said again, dismissing what he said.
“Then take antidepressants. You won’t be able to do a good interview feeling like that, and it’s a long trip.” They had plans to go out to the desert so he could show off his cars and the kind of speeds they could reach. Just thinking about the heat made her feel sick.
Blaise knew she had to go on with her life. She was stunned to realize how much she loved Simon, and how empty her life was without him. It felt like a wasteland, and she tried to put up a good front for Salima, but she couldn’t even do that anymore. She was exhausted, and all she did was sleep when she went home, which she knew was a sign of depression too. She had all the symptoms, and it didn’t take a doctor to figure out why. She was sad about Simon, but she insisted to Mark in the office and herself she’d get over it. She had no other choice. He belonged to someone else. And she was an adult. She had to live through it. But she was concerned about the trip to Morocco too. She didn’t know how she was going to do it, the flu was hanging on, and she thought maybe vitamins would help. She didn’t think she needed antidepressants, just time. She’d been through it with Andrew. But somehow this felt worse. Because this time she had lost a good man, a great one, not a bad one who had lied to her.
She dragged herself to the doctor on Tuesday afternoon. She was leaving for Morocco that weekend.
Her doctor pointed out that he hadn’t seen her for a year, which he thought was a good sign. “How’ve you been?” He was a pleasant man in his fifties, whom she only called on rare occasions, or for insurance exams for the network when she renewed her contract every few years.
“Fine.” She was not going to confess to him that she was suffering from a broken romance, only that she was working too hard and was tired.
“Anything I should know about?”
“I’m exhausted,” she said honestly, “and I’ve had the flu off and on for the last month. I’m leaving for Morocco this weekend, and I thought I should check in before I left.” He had a feeling that she wouldn’t have done so unless she felt really bad. He told her there were a lot of bad flus around, and she might have picked up some bug on a trip, or a plane. She told him she had been in the Middle East several times recently, but was always careful what she ate and drank bottled water. But she admitted that her stomach was a mess.
“Have you lost weight?”
“Probably a few pounds.” It was more like ten, but she didn’t tell him. She knew why. She wasn’t eating. She had had no appetite since Simon left.
The doctor checked her blood pressure and told her it was low, but not dangerously so. “That could be from the flu,” he reassured her. “You don’t need medication for it. I’m going to check you for anemia too. That could account for how you’re feeling. Anything else I should know?”
“Nothing I can think of.” Just Simon, she thought but didn’t say. She felt stupid knowing that by now he was with Megan, probably happy, and she was pining for him and wasting away. She told herself she had to get a grip.
“Are you sexually active?” He went down a list of standard questions.
“Not at the moment. I was.”
“How recently?” His pen was poised over the paper to write her answer as she thought about it.
“A month ago. I just ended a relationship a few weeks ago.” But she didn’t tell him how heartbroken she was. It was none of his business.
“Could you be pregnant?”
“Hardly, at my age. I think I’m a little too old to get pregnant, without technical help,” she said, and he nodded. It was true. But accidents did happen, even at her age. She wasn’t that old. Forty-seven wasn’t entirely out of the realm of the possible, even if unlikely, as she said, “We used protection.” They hadn’t the first time, but it had been their only slip, and after that they’d been careful. Simon had thought they should be, for her sake, although she wasn’t worried about it with him.
“Condoms?” She nodded. “You’re not on the Pill?” She shook her head, although she knew there were accidents with that too. But she’d never had a mistake of that kind in her life, except for Salima. She had always been careful and was responsible about it, and Simon had been too, even though she thought it unlikely she’d get pregnant. They hadn’t taken the chance.
“I don’t think that’s it,” she said firmly.
“Probably not. But it doesn’t hurt to check. I’ll run some hormone levels on you. Your estrogen may be low. This could be the beginning of menopause.” That sounded even more depressing, and she said her periods were still regular, except less so since the shock of his leaving, and her depression, and she’d been sick.
“I think I’m anemic, or just run-down.”
“You look fine,” he said after he examined her. “And I’ll have the results of the bloodwork tomorrow. Give me a call.” She left his office a few minutes later and went home. But she felt no better that night and went straight to bed. Salima came in to see her after dinner.
“I’m sorry I’m such a bore at the moment. I can’t seem to shake this flu. How was dinner?” Blaise asked her in a lifeless tone.
“Okay. Nothing fabulous. I’m trying to teach her to make pasta like Simon, and soufflé. She’s not much of a cook.” Salima had learned a lot from him and was trying to direct Becky. She had all his recipes written down in Braille and a Braille cookbook he had given her.
“Soufflé may be asking a lot.” Blaise grinned. Simon had real talent in the kitchen, not just recipes. They talked for a little while, and then Salima went back to her room to chat with her friends on Facebook, and Blaise went to sleep. She woke up on schedule at four A.M. the next day and felt like death again. She was beginning to get worried and wondered what the doctor would say. Maybe he was right and she had picked up some nasty virus on a plane, or in a foreign country. She felt like she was dying, or at the very least seriously ill. She began thinking about leukemia or lupus.
But in spite of how she felt, she did an excellent segment about the Middle East that morning. And the makeup artist thought she looked pretty, although she felt disconnected and dull, and the only time she seemed like herself now was on the air. She felt like an old well-trained horse who only came alive when she worked.
And she was so busy that afternoon that she forgot to call the doctor. It completely slipped her mind. And at five o’clock, after he saw his last patient, he called her.
“Well, I think we’re getting there. You’re definitely anemic. I’m going to prescribe some iron for you, Blaise. And I think you may have picked up a virus on a trip. There’s not much we can do about it, a virus won’t respond to antibiotics, so you’ll just have to wait it out. You’ll probably feel better in another week. Most viruses don’t last much longer than that, and you said you’ve been feeling rotten for about a month.” It had been that long. She had felt fluish the week he left, and totally awful for the three weeks since. She was relieved by what the doctor said, at least it wasn’t something really awful. She had to be able to do her job. Salima depended on her.
“Thank you, doctor,” she said, sounding more relaxed. She’d been slightly worried about the tests. At least he had a reason why she felt sick. Anemia and a virus.
“And there’s one other thing,” he continued as her heart skipped a beat. What if it was something terrible after all and he had saved it for last?
“Serious?”
“That depends on how you feel about it. You’re pregnant.” He said it, and Blaise stared at her office wall, trying to comprehend what he had said.
“I am?” She couldn’t believe it.
“Yes, your HCG levels are quite high, which is a good sign if you want to keep it. From the dates you gave me for your last normal period, you’re ten weeks the way we figure it, eight from the date of conception, which must have been in early January. You’re two months pregnant. And if that’s not what you want, then you’ll have to do something about it in the next month.” He said it matter-of-factly. Blaise felt like the air had been sucked out of her lungs. What in hell was she going to do? “You should call your gynecologist for a visit soon. She’ll want to get an early sonogram, but apparently you haven’t had any problems.” And as he said it, Blaise realized that she had missed a period in January, right at the time Simon left, and she thought it was because she was upset and not eating. And she had just missed one again. She had paid no attention. “You should be able to hear a heartbeat by now when you see your doctor.” Oh my God. She almost threw up. No wonder her stomach had been so upset. She was panicked as she thanked the doctor, hung up, picked up her bag and coat, and started to leave the office, as Mark looked up from his desk.
“What did the doctor say?” He hadn’t had time to ask her since the day before, and he looked concerned.
“I’m anemic, and I picked up some kind of virus on one of my trips.” There was no way she was going to tell him that she was two months pregnant. She was not going to have another baby, especially now, with Simon back with Megan. It was unthinkable. His silence confirmed that he’d gone back to her and stayed. She hadn’t even wanted a baby while he was with her.
“Well, at least you know what’s wrong. Your doctor faxed over a prescription, by the way. I’ll fill it for you tomorrow.”
“Thanks,” she said, and flew out the door. She wanted to run away from everyone, but where could she go?
Much to her relief, there was no one in the apartment when she got home. She had forgotten that Salima was going to a Mozart concert at Carnegie Hall with Lucianna, and they had taken Becky with them. Salima wanted to expose her to the cultural events she knew nothing about and had never experienced before. Becky was starting to really enjoy New York, and although she wasn’t Simon, Salima liked her. She was an honest, decent, kind girl, wanted to learn, and tried hard. And Blaise agreed.
When Blaise walked into her room, she stared out the window at Central Park. There was still snow on the ground, and she tried to keep from calculating seven months forward to when this baby would be born. It was due the first of October. She didn’t want to give it a birthday. She didn’t want it at all. She thought of calling Simon, but that seemed so wrong. She was sure he was back with Megan. His silence since he’d left confirmed it to her, and she’d been very firm about letting him go and not trying to hang on to him. And even if she was having his baby, she didn’t want to use it to lure him back to her. He needed to be with someone his own age. But this was a disaster for her. The last thing she wanted was to have a baby alone at her age. It had been hard enough with Harry, who was never there and an uninterested father, although his real lack of interest had only happened when Salima got sick. Before that, he’d been sweet with her, when he was home, which wasn’t often. And Blaise had traveled just as much as he did, and now she traveled more. There was no room for a baby in her life. And what would Salima think? And the network. A thousand things were racing through her mind as she lay down on her bed and started to cry. And then she told herself that there was nothing to be scared of. She would have an abortion, and no one would ever know. But what about Simon? Didn’t he have a right to know? Her mind was whirling, as she lay in tears on the bed, utterly exhausted and overwrought, and fell asleep.