Nice Place to Visit

Word Count: 2983

         Kristen’s stomach churned as she stared at the plastic stick in her hand. The second test confirmed what the first one yesterday had told her: she was pregnant. She placed the stick in the box, wrapped it in a shopping bag and shoved it into the trash can of the restroom at the hospital where she worked as a nurse. She decided it was safer to take the test at work during her break, leaving no evidence for Mike to find in their condo. She rationalized this would save him from disappointment in case it was negative. But to her shock, after two years of “trying,” she was pregnant.
         When Kristen and Mike married four years ago, there had been no question that they both wanted to be parents, and Kristen had been off of her birth control for two years. But when her period arrived each month, Kristen found herself feeling less and less disappointment. As she watched mothers with their children, she felt only indifference towards something she probably wasn’t built for. On several occasions she had worked up the nerve to say to Mike, “I think I would be okay if we didn’t have children.” Mike responded by embracing her forcefully, reassuring her that one day, one way or another, they would be parents. The words, “I don’t think I want children,” stuck in Kristen’s throat. She feared they would inevitably lead to a difficult conversation with unknown repercussions.
         Kristen’s blue scrubs suddenly felt constricted, as though her body was expanding in response to the pregnancy test. Her eyes narrowed as she approached the nursing station, where three of her co-workers emitted cacophonous laughter. She was not in a mood to feign interest in their chicken recipes or details about their children’s illnesses. She said hello with a smile and quickly walked away with a tray of medications to distribute.
         Kristen had worked at Mass General Hospital since graduating from nursing school fifteen years ago. A nursing degree hadn’t been her first choice, but her mother had persuaded her as she prepared to graduate and was considering a performing arts program in New York City. “I don’t have money to support you while you chase your dreams in the most expensive city in the country. New York is filled with girls who think they’re going to be the next Angelina Jolie. You need a secure career like nursing. Acting can be your hobby.” The flaw in that reasoning, as Kristen later realized, was that she had little time or energy to pursue her “hobby,” and she quit community theater several years ago.
         As Kristen drifted in and out of patients’ rooms, delivering medications and taking vital signs, she distracted herself from the test results with constant motion and a forced exuberance that left her fatigued by the end of her shift. She looked down resentfully at her stomach before putting on her jacket to go home. This egg had taken 37 years to make it down the fallopian tube and get fertilized. Surely it must be damaged or defective in some way. I don’t want it, she thought, surprising herself.

         The commute home on the train went by in a daze as Kristen stared at the Boston city lights going by. Opening the door to the second floor condo, she saw with relief that Mike had fallen asleep on the couch watching the news. She smiled at how child-like he seemed, covered with a blanket, his longish hair covering his eyes. On their first date six years ago, when they learned that they had grown up on the North Shore, both only had one living parent, and both preferred the Bruins to the Red Sox, it had seemed like fate to Kristen. “Steady as a rock, that one,” her mother had said approvingly when she first met Mike, confirming Kristen’s own opinion.
         Kristen entered the kitchen and saw a note from Mike: “Pizza in the fridge if you’re hungry. XOXO.” She opened the refrigerator door, and the light drew her attention to the calendar hanging next to it, marked in red for her fertile days and black for the days that they had sex. She exhaled in deep disbelief that one of those perfunctory, scheduled sessions of intercourse had actually resulted in pregnancy. Her nose wrinkled at the smell of the mozzarella from the pizza and she reached for an apple instead. She stepped softly towards the bedroom, trying not wake up Mike, and changed into her favorite oversized Celtics t-shirt.
         Scrolling through Facebook before she fell asleep, one post from her former roommate Carmen in Miami caught her attention: “Going to Ultra!!!” Attached was a picture of Carmen and her cousin Tito on a balcony overlooking the bay, holding two tickets. Years ago, in their last year of nursing school, Kristen and Carmen had attended the Ultra Music Festival in Miami’s Bayfront Park. They had spent the whole day rolling on ecstasy, walking from performance stand to performance stand, taking in all forms of techno, house and trance music. They had danced euphorically as the sun set and the sky shifted from powder blue to hot pink, royal purple, and shimmering gold. The memory of the day was enough to trigger a replay of the bass drums and hooks and she felt her temperature rising. Lying in bed, recalling that day, Kristen’s exhausted body overtook her racing mind as she drifted off to sleep.

         “Good morning, beautiful,” Mike said, waking her up with a kiss the next morning. “Sorry I was asleep when you came in. I was pretty tired. I must have put in twelve hours yesterday reviewing the new promotional materials for the next software rollout. How was work?”
         A sour taste rose to Kristen’s throat and she eyed the bathroom door. “It was fine. Let me brush my teeth before I kiss you properly.” She hurried to the bathroom, suppressing a heave. She turned the faucet on, let water run, and bent over the toilet, expelling the apple that she had eaten the night before. I’ll tell him, she thought, looking at her disapproving reflection in the bathroom mirror. I just don’t know what. Or when.
         Kristen entered the kitchen and placed bread in the toaster. Mike, seated at the kitchen table doing the New York Times crossword puzzle, looked every bit like an advertisement for a newspaper subscription, a young professional lounging with a newspaper on a lazy morning. His eyes rose from the newspaper. “What’s on your agenda for today?”
         “I was going to go to the gym, get groceries.” Kristen focused intently on buttering her toast. “I was thinking about flying to Miami on Friday.”
         Mike’s face fell. “But honey, they’re rolling out the new software next week. It’s not a good time for us to go.”
         “Oh….well…I could go on my own. I haven’t seen Carmen in ages and…” She let her voice trail off with a sigh.
         Mike sneaked a glance at the calendar as he drew her in for hug. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I know this hasn’t been easy for you. Just because I can’t go to Miami doesn’t mean you shouldn’t. Of course you should go.”
         “It’ll only be a few days.”
         “You know, when you get back, maybe we should see a specialist. I think it’s recommended after two years.”
         “Maybe,” Kristen replied noncommittally. She sauntered to the bedroom with her cell phone, trying to suppress her excitement. After several rings she got Carmen’s voicemail. “Hey Carmen, it’s Kristen. I was thinking about visiting Miami this weekend. Call me back right away, okay?”

         After the plane departed Logan Airport for Miami International, Kristen pulled a sheet of lined paper from her purse. She took a deep breath, ready to write and rationally weigh her options.

         1) HAVING THE BABY
                   a. Pros
                             i. Mike really wants one
                             ii. Maybe I’ll want it when it’s here?
                   b. Cons
                             i. End of acting career (which never really began…)
                             ii. Money- article said it takes $250,000 to raise a kid
                             iii. Couples without children are statistically happier (but will Mike and I still be a couple if I don’t want a child?)

         2) ABORTION
                   a. Pros
                             i. Mike wouldn’t have to know
                             ii. See Cons above
                   b. Cons
                             i. The baby I don’t want now may cost us thousands later for IVF or adoption
                             ii. Mike may find out and resent me forever


         Writing the list did little to clarify Kristen’s thoughts. She looked out the window as the plane began to descend. She saw the waves of Atlantic Ocean tickling the shores of Miami Beach. Several yards inland were the Art Deco restaurants and hotels of Ocean Avenue. Her eyes moved westward, where she saw Mediterranean-style houses in shades of coral, salmon, and cream, and azure blue pools and elegant palm trees crowned with large emerald leaves. There was something comforting about the permanency of this colorful view. The city that was portrayed on Miami Vice in the eighties, the city where she had attended nursing school, and the city that she viewed from above now fifteen years later, seemed static and forever young, existing on a different oxygen from any other city. The view challenged those arriving to take life less seriously; why would anyone prefer bland brownstones and bundling in parkas when one could enjoy tropical sunsets and sunset cruises year round?
         After landing, Kristen grabbed her carry-on bag and ducked into a restroom. She tore the list she had written into pieces and tossed it into a trash can. She shed her jeans, T-shirt and loafers and donned a black maxi dress and espadrilles. She ran a brush through her hair, applied bronzer, and freshened her lip gloss. Surrounded by lyrical Spanish as she walked towards the gate to meet Carmen, Kristen felt a world away from Boston.
         “Mi hermana blanca!” she heard Carmen call as she jogged towards her for an embrace. “You look great! So much better than I expected…”
         “Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” Kristen said with a laugh. Carmen had not changed in the four years since she had last seen her, nor in the fifteen years since they had graduated nursing school. Tall and lean, with a constant smile, she wore her cleavage like an accessory. When they first met, Kristen was intimidated by the gregarious Cuban girl she had randomly been placed to room with in their freshman year. But they quickly bonded, forming a club of two, preferring the South Beach night clubs to the Coral Gables bars favored by the other nursing students. Carmen had left nursing years ago, saying she was tired of “being a maid dealing with body fluids.” She eventually obtained her M.B.A. and transitioned into health care administration.
         “I just mean, the way Mike was talking, I thought they were going to carry you off the plane swaddled in a blanket.”
         “You spoke with Mike?”
         “He called a couple of hours ago. He’s really worried about you, Kristen. He said you haven’t been yourself and you’ve been a little distant.”
         “I just needed a break. We’ve been trying to get pregnant for a while and it’s been…intense. Is it okay if we don’t talk about it?”
“Claro, of course. But if you ever do want to talk about it just let me know. This is my car,” she said, stopping at a white BMW and popping the trunk.
         “Wow, nice car, so…can you get me a ticket for Ultra tomorrow?”
         Carmen looked at her with wide eyes. “Are you serious? You really want to go?”
         “Yes, I think it’s just what I need.”
         “Gracias a dios, I thought that I was going to have to sit by the pool with you drinking warm white wine and talking you down off a ledge. Your plan sounds much better.”
         Kristen smiled. “I thought you would approve.”
         Carmen and Kristen drove from Miami International towards Brickell, passing the tall glass office towers, hotels and condominiums of the city’s financial district. Entering Carmen’s condo on the ninth floor of a tall high rise, Kristen spun around in a circle, taking it all in. “Damn, Carmen, you’ve been moving on up in the world. This place is amazing.” She removed her shoes and sank back into the cream-colored sofa.
         Carmen’s heels clicked on the tile floor of the kitchen, which featured granite countertops and stainless steel appliances. “Want something to drink? How about some sangria?”
         “Perfect,” Kristen said enthusiastically. The women changed into their bathing suits and made their way to the pool on the eleventh floor. The sky was dark and the neon lights from the city on the horizon shone brightly. Carmen placed a jug of sangria on a low table between two lounge chairs.
          “Did you get your tits done without telling me?” Carmen asked, eyeing Kristen with suspicion as she placed a white cover-up over her black one-piece bathing suit.
         Kristen blushed. “No, I’ve just gained some weight.”
         Carmen shrugged. “Well, I only see in your boobs. How’s the hubby?”
         “Oh, Mike’s good. He’s been busy with a new software rollout. But he enjoys the work.”
         “How about you? Have you done any acting lately?”
         Kristen shook her head, swirling her glass of sangria. “Nothing. I’ve been doing the 3 to 11 shifts, it makes it impossible.”
         “But you were so good! I mean, you were the best thing in that production of Pride and Prejudice that I saw. Don’t give up so easily.”
         “I haven’t given up, it’s just…there’s only so much time, you know? And I’m ancient now. Enough about me…how’s work going for you?”
          “It’s been hectic. There’s a wave of hospital mergers going on, and soon there will be one big hospital corporation in the country. Tons of traveling, but I like it.”
         “How’s Julio?” Kristen asked, referring to Carmen’s on-and-off boyfriend. Carmen rolled her eyes. “He’s around. Trying to make a comeback. Oh, before I forget…” Carmen reached into her bag and handed Kristen four small pink pills. “Do you think four will be enough?”
         “What are these?”
         “Damn, has it been that long? E, X, Molly, whatever they’ll be calling it tomorrow at Ultra.”
         “Oh, great…” Kristen accepted the pills to avoid any questions and placed them in her purse.
         “I am dying to see DJ Audien tomorrow night. I have his CD downloaded on my IPOD, you should take a listen. I’m going to do a few laps, want to join me?”
         “No, actually, if it’s okay, I’m going to head to bed. I’m exhausted.”
         Carmen handed her a key before jumping into the pool. Kristen returned to the condo, changed into a nightgown and covered herself with the crisp white linens of the guest bed. She picked up her cell phone and googled “ecstasy and pregnancy.” She saw that studies had concluded that ecstasy use by pregnant women could lead to birth defects, but these studies appeared to follow only regular users of ecstasy and other drugs. There were also many message boards filled with comments from women reporting that a few uses very early in the pregnancy had no effect on their children. Surprisingly, the studies also indicated that regular ecstasy users were more likely to give birth to boys. Well, if I do decide to keep it, Mike always wanted a boy, she thought ruefully.

         As they waited in line the next morning to enter Ultra, Kristen felt out of place, surrounded by high school and college students. Most of the women were dressed in bikini tops and shorts, though some were dressed as anime characters with spandex costumes and colorful hair. After security did cursory inspections of Kristen and Carmen’s clutches, they entered through the gate. Kristen reached inside her bra, pulled out a small pill and swallowed it quickly out of security’s sight. Carmen pulled out a map of the park and a schedule of the festival, listing the DJs and locations. “Tito’s supposed to text me when he gets here. Oh, Mikka will be over on the left hand stage. Let’s head there.”
         Carmen and Kristen strolled to the rhythm of the music around them. When they arrived at the performance stand, Kristen was surprised to see Mikka was a petite woman of indeterminate age with spiked black hair, wearing a white tank top and denim cut-off shorts. She had attracted a large crowd with successive drum beats that built in velocity, frequency, and volume. Many in the audience were dancing fluidly and unselfconsciously, indicating they were rolling. Carmen and Kristen carved out spaces on the grass-covered ground, admiring Mikka’s elliptical movements. The beat commanded Kristen’s attention, and her heart accelerated to the 140 BPM tempo when the vocals began.

         A beat of a drum going through my head
         It echoes on like all those words you said
         It’s like nothing’s changed and the joke’s on me
         I’m a lifetime away from where I need to be
         Can we rewind this day?
         Can you remind me why we changed…

         Carmen put her hands around Kristen’s shoulders and they began swaying in synch. The to-do lists, five-year plans and regrets drifted away as Kristen was overtaken by her nervous system, leaving only the heightened senses of sight, sound, and touch. Closing her eyes, she saw a kaleidoscope of colors and shapes, shifting and transforming to the beat of the music. She imagined the cluster of cells in her uterus, multiplying as they divided, in synch with the percussion. She pictured the small zygote dancing, with tiny fist pumps, and she giggled. She suddenly felt maternal towards this pea in her uterus, this little egg that could. Maybe everything would be okay after all.
         “Are you happy?” Carmen shouted into her ear. Looking for hidden meaning in Carmen’s wide grin and dilated pupils, Kristen found none. “Yes, I am,” she said, returning Carmen’s smile.