The Friends We Keep

Dr. Pearce came around the desk and took Rob’s seat. She reached for Hayley’s hand.

“This sucks,” she said bluntly. “You have done everything medically possible to carry a baby to term. I know how important this is to you. I wish you could know how I hate telling you this. I’m sorry, Hayley. If it’s this painful for me, I can’t imagine how awful it is for you. But you have to get through this. The surgery is necessary to save your life.”

She reached for a card on her desk. “I’d like you to see another specialist. She’s at UCLA. Talk to her. Get a second opinion and a third. But please, don’t wait too long.”

Because time was never on her side, she thought, the cold deepening until she couldn’t feel anything else.

Hayley nodded. “Okay. Thanks. I get it.”

She stood and collected the material she’d brought with her. She could feel herself moving, but something wasn’t right. It was as if she were underwater, or fighting through being slightly out of space and time. The cold was the only constant.

“I’m sorry,” Dr. Pearce repeated. “Hayley, you have my cell number. Call me anytime. I mean that.”

“Sure. I will.”

She walked out of the office and back to the waiting room. Rob stood there.

“Are you going to listen to Dr. Pearce?” he asked. “Did you hear what she was saying? I don’t want you to die. We have to stop. You have to schedule the surgery.”

As cold as she felt, she was surprised her teeth weren’t chattering. She couldn’t feel her hands or her feet. Her heartbeat sounded loud in her ears, making it difficult to hear what her husband was saying.

Maybe this was shock, she told herself. Maybe it was a bad dream.

“We should go,” she said. “We’re done here.”

He looked at her for a long time. “I wish I could believe that.”

*

Gabby had met Nicole over a year ago through Shannon, Gabby’s sister-in-law. Casual conversation had turned to going to Supper’s in the Bag together which had morphed into friendship. Gabby knew in her head that Nicole ran an exercise studio that specialized in Pilates. She’d seen her friend in various outfits and knew the other woman was in great shape. But all that intellectual knowledge had not prepared her for a class at Mischief in Motion.

Mat Pilates had sounded easy enough. The mat part implied lying down. At least she wouldn’t be running and jumping. But halfway through her first class, she realized that the mat was just there to taunt her. There might not be running and jumping but there was more pain than she’d ever thought possible. Nicole wanted her to do things that the human body just wasn’t meant to do. At least hers wasn’t.

“Five more seconds,” Nicole said, sounding more like a drill sergeant than a friend. “And hold. Three, two, one and relax.”

Gabby fell onto her back. She was sweating and quivering. The sweating was gross but expected. What she objected to the most was the quivering. Even though the exercise was over, her stomach muscles continued to tremble. That couldn’t be good.

Nicole, all skinny and fit in black exercise leggings and a black and hot-pink racer-back tank, knelt by her mat.

“You doing okay?” she asked.

“No. I can’t move.”

“Just do what you can. This is a pretty advanced class. When we’re done here, let’s go over the schedule and find something you’ll enjoy more.”

“You mean a class with fat, out-of-shape people with emotional eating problems?” Gabby was trying to be funny but had a bad feeling she only sounded pathetic.

“I was thinking that a class geared to someone who’s been busy with her family might be better, but you call it what you want.” Nicole rose. “Okay, everyone. We’ll finish with the plank.”

Everyone rolled over and shifted into the plank position. Well, everyone except Gabby. She tried to sit up only to find that her body failed her. Pain joined the quivering. She rolled onto her side and managed to push herself up so she was at least sitting.

She watched the other women in the class hold their pose as Nicole counted the time. Three of the women dropped out at a minute, which left Shannon and Pam still going. At two minutes, Gabby felt her mouth drop open. Shannon was in fantastic shape, damn her, but Pam was over fifty. She looked great and obviously worked out a lot. Gabby figured she could either be inspired or feel bitter. Right now, bitter was winning.

“Three minutes,” Nicole said out loud.

“Ready to call it?” Pam asked, sounding out of breath.

“Yes. One, two, three.”

On three they both collapsed. Everyone applauded. Gabby told herself she would remember this moment and when she was faced with cookies or brownies, she would think of Pam. She might also eat a cookie, but it would be with Pam in mind.

Shannon stood and walked over. “How are you holding up?” she asked.

“I have no idea,” Gabby admitted.