The Best Part of Me
Chapter 1 – The Situation
Rachel sighed as she scoured the aisles of the pharmacist's store.
It had been a month since Mike went to prison and if anybody had told her she'd be here, in her lunch break, shopping for … Jesus Christ, what a mess! A huge, ridiculous, unbelievably stupid mess.
She didn't know which one to buy. Digital? Early prediction? One kit in bright pink packaging proclaimed it would give you a result "Six days sooner". Six days sooner than what? Did she need that one? 'Sounds efficient,' she thought as she picked up the box and read the label. '99% accurate – can't get any better than that, I suppose.' The next kit she picked up was also pink. 'Why are they all pink?' This one contained twenty strips. 'Wait … there's a difference between a strip and a stick?' She popped it straight back down. She didn't know what a strip entailed, or why you'd need twenty of them, so that product seemed a whole lot more complicated. Complications on top of the already existing complications were not desirable.
All her years as a researcher were put to good use as she weighed up the pros and cons of each product, then she chastised herself. 'What the hell did it matter?' Pink stick or pink strip or … Ooh the next one looked promising. The box was blue which was instantly more calming and it said it was the 'easiest to use' in bold white writing. Not knowing what the hell she was doing anyway, she picked up two boxes of the blue one. 'Easy sounds good!' she decided as she marched to the counter to pay, slightly embarrassed at what she was buying, then popped them in her bag and made her way back to the office.
X X X
All the way back, Rachel felt like she was living someone else's life. What she was doing was so weird, and by god it was going to be a game changer! They were just getting somewhere with rebuilding the firm and now this? It was the last thing they needed and, if the little square blank window on the … the stick, was it? … changed to a plus sign this afternoon then everybody's world was going to turn upside down.
Jessica would be pissed.
Since Mike left, Jessica had taken her under her wing. Not least because Rachel's dad, the great Robert Zane, was still as mad as hell that she had been complicit in Mike's fraud. But then Jessica had … almost … lost everything. She was fighting like a tiger, her teeth bared against anyone who got in her way, and she was somehow managing to keep everything together. They'd already had successes. All of them had worked long days and often into the night. They'd won back cases and they'd charmed back staff. There was still so much to do. The bank was a problem, the sword of Damocles permanently hanging over their heads as Jessica, Harvey and Louis negotiated deal after deal with, as Jessica called her, the 'Rott-vile-er Bank Manager,' but they'd done it. Pearson Specter Litt was still ticking over.
Throwing this 'situation' into the mix was going to throw a gigantic spanner into the works.
Well, that was if the plus sign appeared in the window.
She thought of Mike as she entered the building and took the elevator up to the 50th floor. 'He wouldn't be as worried about this if he were here,' she thought as a huge smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. She'd seen him every week since he left and he was doing great. Well as great as could be expected. She missed him terribly. Her big brown eyes glazed over as images of Mike making jokes and deliberately causing mischief over the 'situation' – the situation the plus sign would unfold. He'd be thrilled about it. She knew he would, but he'd have his fun too.
When the elevator doors opened she walked nervously out of the lift and back to her office. She'd try to eat something before her scheduled 1.00pm meeting in the bathroom with Donna. So far it was a secret only they knew and it felt strange to think that they may have to ultimately share it with the world.
She plonked her bag down on her desk and she opened her top drawer. She'd bought a falafel and cream cheese wrap on her way to work first thing, but as she started to nibble the corners of the sandwich her stomach lurched. It was the cream cheese. Why? Why the hell had some idiot thought that it would work with falafel? Urgh! She couldn't not eat anything as it would probably be another late evening for her workwise and she wouldn't last till 8.00pm or 9.00pm. Rachel was a foodie! Lunch was the highlight of her day, everyone knew that! So she opted to dissect the sandwich, scraping out the offending cream cheese with a ruler and plopping it into the bin.
She'd eaten three bites of sandwich when Harvey barged through her door carrying a brown box of files. She felt her stomach sink as she hoped they didn't contain more work. She was up to her eyes in paperwork that would last to the middle of next week.
"You busy?" he asked her.
'Can't you see the huge sandwich in my mouth?' she thought as she motioned him to wait until she finished chewing. He was looking at her quizzically, as she tried to hurry up. "What?" she said, arching an eyebrow at his impatient demeanour. "I need to eat!"
"That looks disgusting." He twisted his nose into a knot with his brow.
Rachel swallowed. She could still taste the cream cheese. "It is," she muttered in defeat, tossing the sandwich to one side.
"Ok then I need you to do something for me. I won a new client yesterday – Smith and Westland – they're called …"
"Sounds like they make guns … or hot dogs."
"Baby food."
'Oh the irony,' thought Rachel.
"What?" asked Harvey catching her eye roll.
"Nothing. Carry on."
Harvey was confused. It wasn't unusual for him. He let it go. "Okay, well the company is in the shit and they need to make redundancies. I need you to go over their employee contracts and draw up a list of possible costs involved."
"How many staff?"
"Well, they've pinpointed seventy-six possible staff members." It was a lot. Harvey told her as if it was nothing.
"Seventy-six!" Her dark brown eyes almost popped out of her head, "Harvey that will take hours and I already have a mountain of cases to get through."
"I know. Sorry. I … why don't you get Donna to help you? I'd start it myself but I have meeting after meeting right up until 6.00pm and … well I'll come fine you when I get back and see how far you've gotten."
He plopped the box of files down on her desk.
And then the speed of the world turning slowed down as the box tipped over her bag …
'Fuck!' she screamed in her mind as she scrambled, but it was too late. Her bag fell to the floor and two blue boxes sprung out, landing at Harvey's feet.
'Had he seen?'
'Of course he had!'
Without saying a word she picked up the boxes and the rest of her bag's contents and stuffed them all back inside. It was as if her dad was standing over her. Her face flushed red and she started to sweat, her growling, hungry tummy flipping over with nerves … and stress … and … 'shit!'.
"Sorry … I … erm," said Harvey in shock.
'Of all the shitty luck.' She sat back down. Her face was burning hot and she fumbled with the file box, her bag, the one half of a sandwich … anything to avoid …
"I'll … uhm … better get going." He backed out of her office, thudding his backside against the still open door. He jumped in shock.
Although Harvey's awkwardness was hilarious, Rachel couldn't laugh. She was gutted. She watched him retreat and she sighed as if she had the weight of the world on her shoulders.
She checked her watch. 12.55pm. Time to get going.
She picked up her bag and straightened her skirt.
She did have the weight of the world on her shoulders.
X X X
Rachel entered the 50th floor bathrooms at 1.00pm prompt. Donna was already there, pacing the floor, her monochrome patterned dress shining under the bright halogen lights.
Rachel let the door close behind her with a bang and Donna snapped around, slightly startled, her arm shooting to her chest. "Jesus, you scared me," she said, holding on to the toilet cubicle wall.
"Are we alone?"
"Yep, did you get it?"
Rachel nodded. Her face was still flushed and hot. "Slight problem."
"What?" Donna as she walked towards her, ducking her head around to the door, making sure nobody was going to appear behind them.
"Harvey came into the office, dropped a box onto my desk, knocked my bag over and the … the tests fell out."
Donna's eyes grew large and almost popped out of her head. "What the hell?"
"I know, I'm sorry … I …"
"Did he know what they were?" asked Donna.
"I … I … think so," stammered Rachel.
"Holy shit, Rach!"
"I know, I know, I … there was nothing I could have done. It all happened in slow motion … and …"
Donna put her hand on her hip, her foot tapping nervously on the floor. "Right, well what's done is done. Just pass me the stuff."
Rachel passed one of the boxes to Donna. "It said on the box it was the easiest to use." She watched her friend scan read the back of the kit contents.
"Right. Three sticks, so we get three chances."
"I bought another box too."
Donna looked at her as if she was mad. "You're keen," she said, flipping her hair as she ripped open the box and removed the tests, opening the cellophane with her teeth. Then, holding up the box in one hand and the test in the other she took a deep breath and smiled knowingly at Rachel.
"You pee on it and then you wait five minutes."
Rachel nodded. "This is huge." Her eyes glassed over as she reflected upon the life-changing 'situation' they were facing.
Donna twisted her nose to stop her own tears from falling. "Tell me about it." Her anxious smile told Rachel that the magnitude of the situation wasn't lost on her either.
Rachel came closer to her best friend and rubbed her arm gently. "So … are we doing this?"
Donna nodded. "That's why we're here." She gestured towards the nearest stall and held the door open. Then she stopped.
"You do realise Harvey will think the pregnancy tests were for you," she said to Rachel.
"Yeah, I know. We'll just have to cross that bridge when we come to it." Rachel smiled at Donna, her eyes trying in vain to tell her it would all be okay – whatever happened in the next few minutes. "Good luck."
Donna inhaled the deepest breath she could muster and entered the stall, bolting the door behind her.
X X X
Rachel paced the room anxiously, tip-toeing to the bathroom door every thirty seconds to make sure nobody was coming. They were lucky so far. Donna was taking ages and she wanted to check on her, but also didn't want to interrupt. She could imagine how Donna was feeling. If she were in the same position, she'd be absolutely terrified.
After her sixth check of the door and the hall outside she shuffled back into the bathroom. How many hours had she and Donna spent in this bathroom over the years? Discussing their lives, talking about Mike or Harvey, fighting occasionally, crying often … this space was there's. It belonged to them. The clinical grey walls bearing witness to every private word they'd spoken. It seemed entirely fitting that they were in that bathroom to find out if the 'situation,' was indeed going to become the situation Donna had feared. She grimaced as she recalled Donna coming into her office two days ago. She had been lost for words which was the absolute sure-fire way you knew something was up with Donna. Her friend – her bright, sassy, lively best friend was never lost for words.
Her mind snapped back to reality as she heard shuffling from inside the cubicle and her stomach sank as the moment she'd been waiting for came hurtling towards her like a runaway train. "Donna," she called softly from outside the toilet stall, tapping lightly on the door. "Are you done?"
She heard a sniff and a clip-clop of high heels from inside. 'Christ she's building up the suspense,' she thought as she finally heard the toilet flush and the bolt unlock.
She knew immediately.
Donna's face was white, all the colour drained from it making her hundreds of freckles even more prominent. Her eyes were blank, as Rachel searched them for confirmation. Anxiety, stress, worry for the future were all etched into Donna's expression as she slowly nodded her head. "I pee'd on all three," she said, as if the fact she'd managed to do that was an achievement in itself.
"And … all three?"
Donna nodded. Then her face crumpled. Then the tears came.
"Hey, shhh, it'll be fine," said Rachel unconvincingly. There were so many 'what the fucks' with this 'situation' that she didn't know where to start trying to process them. 'Did Donna even like babies?'
Donna reclaimed the three test sticks from the toilet cistern, showing Rachel the big, bold '+' signs displayed on all of them. "Do you think I should do the other box?" Tears slid down her cheeks and gathered in a pool on the neckline of her dress.
"I don't think so," said Rachel gently. "These things are pretty accurate."
"What do I do with them?"
"Just put them in your bag," said Rachel as she gathered up Donna's tan leather tote and stuffed the tests inside.
Donna walked over to the sink and washed her hands, splashing cold water on her face. "Holy shit!" she exclaimed as she looked at her own reflection in the mirrors. "What am I going to do?"
Rachel came up behind her and placed her hand on her friend's back. "You don't have to think about it today. Take some time. Why don't you go home?"
Donna shook her head and reached for a paper towel. "No, I couldn't. People will know something's up. Donna is never sick and Donna never goes home early."
"But … do you think you'll be ok to …"
"I'll be fine. Shit. I think I'll be fine. Christ I can't even … how the hell did this happen?"
"You need me to tell you that?" Rachel let out a giggle and Donna looked at her with raised eyebrows. Rachel gulped. "Too soon?" she stated, knowing the answer.
She watched as Donna fluffed her hair and straightened her dress. Then she leaned forward and did her best to remove the streaks of wet mascara from under her eyes. "Do I pass?"
"You look fine," said Rachel.
"Not blooming at all?"
"Absolutely not blooming. Never blooming."
"Good, then back to work. I'll think about this later."
"You know what?" asked Rachel as she came up with an idea. "Harvey's just landed a mountain of paperwork on me. Why don't you come help? We could do it in his office … much better than you sitting at your desk … on your own … mulling …"
Donna thought for a moment, trying to recall her own workload. "Fine, yeah. What I have on can wait, I guess."
"Great, I really could do with the help actually." They both picked up their bags and moved towards the door. "I have never been so busy."
Before they left, their last chance of being truly, clandestinely alone, Rachel turned to Donna. "Do you know what you're going to say … to …?"
"To whom?"
"To Mitchell … oh god, and then to Harvey."
Donna's brow creased and she shook her head. "No idea." She sighed as she took hold of the handle and swung the door open. "But I have nine months to work it out."
