Chapter Six: Going Solo

The next several weeks are uneventful, and the second week in April brings about quarterly evaluations. I am able to type them up quickly, and send them off to my various instructors before heading to the Quahog General Hospital for my appointment with Dr. Hartman. The journey is uneventful and short, and soon I am sitting in the waiting room, filling out the mandatory forms.

Within fifteen minutes, I'm shown to an exam room where a nurse of Asian descent skims my information and types up things that I tell her into the computer. She nods occasionally and asks the staple questions before turning to me. "You're worried that you may be pregnant?"

I nod. "Yes."

She gives me an accusing look. "Aren't you on birth control?"

I feel the urge to slap her for her rudeness. "Yes," I reply curtly, "but I as formally explained to Dr. Hartman in my email, I'd been having some headaches over the last couple of weeks that I was having which he attributes to my birth control pills. He put me on a different kind of pill about six or seven weeks ago…"

"Please tell me you used a condom," she says, wrinkling her lips at me.

"Yes," I say, drawing my fingers close to my palm, as I am becoming more and more tempted to scratch her eyes out.

She sighs. She gets up and leaves the room before returning with a cup. "You'll take this into the bathroom and provide a urine sample," she tells me slowly, in a more than a little condescending manner. "If we don't get anything, we may need you to do a blood test. Do you think you can handle that?"

I look at her squarely in the eye as I take the cup from her. "Oh, I think I can. I'm only human, so fear is inevitable for certain things, but needles aren't one of them," I reply levelly to her. "What I can't handle is your attitude towards me. Sounds to me like you haven't been laid in a while. Do you think that by making me feel guilty I'll abstain from sex? Because, if I'm being honest, that's really none of your business."

She narrows her eyes slightly. "Would you like a different nurse?"

"Please," I reply, turning and going into the en suite bathroom and shutting and locking the door behind me. I go to the toilet and pull down my jeans, sitting upon the bowl and managing to fit the cup in between my legs. After I've gotten the sample, I put the cup onto the back of the toilet before doing everything necessary before washing my hands. I flush the toilet and make a grab for the sample cup again before stepping out of the bathroom, where a man with a light brown mustache is waiting for me.

"Oh, hey!" he cries in an effeminate voice. "My name is Nurse Bruce, I'm part of an outreach program." "Really?" I ask, wondering if "outreach program" is code for "not medically educated", but fight to keep my tone civil. After all, he's not a mean nurse, at least, not from the outset of it all. He actually seemed quite kind and unassuming, and I immediately wondered if he was acquainted with Stewie. "That's nice." He nods. "I know!" he cries, grinning at me. "Took some classes at the learning annex a few months back to qualify and here I am." He looks over my chart and the information that the other nurse put into the computer. "Well, it seems as if Nurse Mei Ling mentioned that you two didn't really see eye to eye, but that's all right. That's what I'm here for."

"Glad to hear it," I say.

"Well, looks to me like you think you may have a little mini Vivienne Shaw inside there," he says with a smile. "Don't you worry; I'm going to make you that you are comfortable for the duration of your appointment." He finds a cap for my urine sample and caps the cup before going to the door. "I'm just going to bring this down to the lab for you. Dr. Hartman should be with you shortly."

"Nice meeting you, Bruce," I say softly.

"Bye," he says in a sing-song voice before slipping out of the room and out into the hallway, and through the doors' window I can see where he turns a corner to where I presume the lab is located.

I bring my knees upwards towards my chest and rest my chin upon them, allowing myself to sway back and forth on the operating table. My phone buzzes in my pocket and I check it, seeing that Stewie is video calling me. I swipe the green phone icon to the right and see his adorable, football-shaped head bouncing about on my screen.

"Vivienne! I saw you drive off several minutes ago, but Lois insisted on a game of peek-a-boo," he said a little impatiently. "Where are you?"

I sigh, lowering my eyes. "I'm at the hospital, Stewie," I reply.

At once, he looks concerned. "At the hospital, Vivienne?!" he cries a little too loudly. "Really, truly?! Why?!"

"Stewie, did you take Mommy's cell phone again?" I hear in the background as Lois picks up the phone and looks at it as Stewie shouts "No!" in the same moment. "Huh, this doesn't look like my phone… It's a newer model. Is that…is that Vivienne?"

"Hi, Lois," I say softly.

"They have Skype on phones now?" she asks me.

"Sort of," I reply. "It's called FaceTime."

Lois squints a little. "Huh. Really looks like you're in one of the rooms of the Quahog Hospital…" She gasps then. "Oh, my god… Are you at the hospital, Vivienne?"

I sigh. "Yes, Lois."

"Oh, my god…" She cries out as the screen goes black.

Shrugging it off, I move to lie on my back, watching the various patterns of holes up on the tiles of the ceiling. My eyes begin to grow heavy and, as I rest my hands upon my chest, I allow myself to relax. I haven't been able to get a good nights' sleep in weeks, due to the fact that I've been stressing about school and my relationship with Brian. I must've fallen asleep because I suddenly become aware of a loud noise jostling me awake. Sitting up, I can see Lois barging into my room, holding onto Stewie as well.

"Lois?" I ask, confused.

"Oh, thank god you're all right!" she says, not objecting when Stewie reaches for me, and hands him over without hesitation.

I give her a tight smile. "Yeah…"

She sighs. "Vivienne, what's wrong? I know you're on the outs with Brian, but I was really hoping that we could be friends, and friends tell each other when they're in the hospital for something—anything. Don't you want to be friends?"

I bite my lip, shifting Stewie a bit so as he is sitting on my legs. "Of course I want to be friends, Lois. It's not your fault, it's mine. I deliberately put distance between us because of my past…"

She pulls up a chair to the side of the exam table and sits down. "What happened in your past, Vivienne?"

"My mother and father disowned me," I reply. "I was back in their good graces for almost two years a while back, but that was only because I was engaged to a rich man. I cared about him, but he cheated on me. And then they didn't want anything to do with me. He said that the engagement ending was my fault…"

"And you have solid evidence of him cheating on you?"

I nod. "I saw it," I say softly to her. "Walked in on it at the hospital—he's a surgeon, like my brother," I explain. "He was in the office with some slut and…" I lower my eyes, forcing myself not to cry. "It broke my heart… He essentially said that he was busy and for me to leave and I gave him the ring back…"

"I hope you shoved it down that whore's throat," Lois muttered, shaking her head. "You poor thing! I'm so sorry."

"Go, Lois," Stewie said softly, letting out a giggle.

"So, why are you here?" she wants to know. "From what Donna said, you never get sick—you told her and Cleveland that within the first week of you watching the kids, so you'd always be able to watch them. What's going on?"

I sighed. "I was feeling really anxious about Brian and about school," I say quietly. "I didn't think anything of it when I missed my period—I've never been particularly regular and I'm on these new birth control pills," I tell her. "Well, things didn't go well when I started throwing up at the smell of cooked chicken—that's what happens in my family," I say. "When my mom found out she was pregnant with my brother, and then with me, that's what set her off. I love chicken," I say passionately. "It's my favorite meat and now I…" I lower my eyes, hoping that Lois will be supportive.

"Wait a minute… Vivienne… Are you saying that you could be pregnant?!" Lois demands in a moment of shock.

I sigh. "I think I could be," I tell her. A knock at the door comes then and Dr. Hartman lets himself in. He politely greets me, Lois, and Stewie before heading over to the computer and going over my file to look over the nature of my visit. He skims through both Mei Ling's and Bruce's reports for a few moments; the only sound the four of us can hear is the obnoxious ticking of the wall clock from the 1980's on one of the walls.

Dr. Hartman turns to us after a few moments and sighs. "Well, it seems as if your urine sample provided inconclusive results," he says in a reserved tone. "We'll have to take some blood to be sure. They'll take about a day to figure out."

I sigh, unknowing as to what was coming. "Okay," I reply.

Lois tells me that I am more than welcome to come over after my appointment, but I opt to go back to the garage apartment. Stewie joins me and I pour him a glass of apple juice before we go sit on the couch to watch the latest Law & Order: Special Victims Unit. I watch as Stewie tries not to laugh at Fin's various outbursts to serious situations.

"What?" I ask him during a commercial break.

"No, it's good," he says, sipping his apple juice. "It's just… Fin is just such a funny guy. Why did he ever become a detective? That man would seriously benefit from doing some stand-up. Am I right?"

"No," I say, swatting him gently. "He's very good at what he does." I shift a little, bringing my left leg under me. "I like Olivia. Not just because she's a woman, but because she shows what our country is capable of."

"Oh?" Stewie asks. "You're a Hillary Clinton fan?"

I blush. "Yes."

"Ah," Stewie says. "Brian is more of a Bernie fan."

I lower my eyes, nibbling a bit on my lower lip. "Somehow I figured that out," I say quietly to him, hunching my shoulders ever so slightly.

Stewie immediately smacks his forehead to his little hand. "Dammit, Viv, I'm sorry," he says quickly. "God, I can't believe I forgot…" He purses his lips and looks me up and down. "Do you think the time machine thing applies to the whole CT scan/X-ray thing?" he asks me then, peering at my stomach.

I blink. "Excuse me?"

"Well, you know how doctors and technicians aren't allowed to perform CT scans and X-rays on women who may be pregnant?" he asks.

I nod. "Yeah."

"Well, do you think my time machine applies?" he wants to know.

I shrug. "We don't even know if I'm even pregnant," I tell him.

He sighs. "I know." He bits his lip briefly as the show comes back on. "It's not the same ever since B.D. Wong left the main cast…"

I shake my head. "Stabler was the front-runner for a reason," I reply. "And Captain… I miss them," I say softly.

He nods. "You're not very happy now, are you, Vivienne?"

I sigh. "No, I'm not. The guy that I love is dating other women and isn't speaking to me; I may be pregnant with his child; I have more schooling to do; my parents don't speak to me; and I don't want to appear to be a burden on my brother and sister-in-law. I have a lot of shit to sift through…"

Stewie gets to his feet and takes me by the hand, pulling me through the living room, down the garage apartment stairs, through the garage, down the driveway, across the street, and into the Griffin house. He ignores Brian, seated on the couch with Peter and Chris, and yanks me up the stairs and into his bedroom. I feel a lump rise in my throat when I hear Brian's toenails upon the stairs as he rushes after us, and manages to slip into Stewie's bedroom before he manages to kick the door shut.

"What the hell are you doing here, Brian?!" Stewie demands, rounding on him immediately and glaring at him. "How dare you show your face in here?!"

"I could ask your guest the same thing," Brian says, barely glancing at me before putting the full effect of his glare on Stewie. "Why is she here?!"

"I'm tired of this bullshit," I say, running my hands through my hair.

I turn away and find myself going into a fetal position as Brian and Stewie continue to scream at each other. I remember my parents doing the same thing involving me—the first time was when I confessed to being an atheist; the second time was when I ended my engagement to Colin; and the third time was when I'd decided to move to Quahog. I could picture my parents screaming and berating me and I found I was projecting them onto Brian and Stewie. I felt myself shaking as I saw my mother calling me a stupid bitch and my father calling me a worthless whore. Tears blind my vision as I turn towards Stewie's window which, if you look through it, you're able to see Cleveland's house. I suddenly find myself running towards it; I barely hear the glass shattering; I don't even feel the glass cutting into me as I launch myself through the panes. No screams belonging to me cut through the air and I lower my eyes; the concrete of the driveway below seems to be springing up to meet me, and I allow myself to shut my eyes, preparing for the blackness.

However, a white light suddenly appears around me, and I feel as if I am being yanked backwards and back through the window. I am thrown, hard, onto Stewie's bedroom floor and, as I look up, Brian and Stewie are staring at me, stunned expressions on their faces. I manage to pick myself up and, shaking my head, see that the window is all back in one piece and that my clothes aren't torn and I'm not bleeding.

"What happened?" I manage to get out.

"You tried to kill yourself," Brian said, his voice shaking with emotion.

"It gave me an opportunity to try out my new invention," Stewie tells me softly. "It's the Backwards Effector," he says. "It takes recent events and essentially employs a rewind button, where you're able to undo the events, but still retain knowledge of their happening and existence." I rub my head and shift so as I am sitting. "Wow… Jeez. I can't believe I did that…"

"Neither can I," Brian says.

I sigh. "Stewie? I think I'm up for a little adventure…"

"That wasn't enough for you?!" Brian demands.

"You can stay here if you like," Stewie replies smoothly.

"No!" Brian shouts. "I-I mean, no. I'll come along."

"Fine," Stewie says. He presses the hidden pad on the wall so that the time machine presents itself to us again. We all troop inside and I barely notice Stewie typing in the year 1929 and the location of England.

The white light comes around us then and we are soon launched once again through time and space and into the roaring 20's across the ocean. We step out from behind a rather large shrub and I lower my eyes to see myself in a slightly-above-the-ankle dress with a furred coat, high heels, a little hat, and a furred scarf. Brian and Stewie wear long overcoats and hats along with what appears to be matching suits and coordinating shoes.

We walk along the streets and everything appears to be normal; when we pass by a small newsstand, however, apprehension seizes me. Peeking at the date, I see that it is the twenty-eighth of October, 1929. Something seemed eerily familiar about that date, yet I found I was unable to place it. As we walked along, men and women seemed to be reveling in their time together; couples could be seen window-shopping, flirting, and laughing with one another as we walked along.

We find ourselves at the Vaudeville Theatre and buy a ticket—by some miracle, there were pounds in our pockets—and settle down to watch the girls with bouncing curls and frilly skirts sing and dance about days past. We clapped and chanted along with the rest of the audience, and I tried my best to master a perfect English accent. The show goes on for another hour or so, and soon we walk back outside, to chaos.

Men and women are screaming and running along, panic running rampant in the streets, and I feel a chill going up and down my spine. We continue walking through the crowd, stumbling and tripping over everyone else, and I finally realize what has happened. A crowd has gathered at the London Stock Exchange, and the doors have been barred shut. A massive banner is draped on the doors and windows, saying that a crash has happened in America, and that it has come across the Channel to London.

The crowds deafening screams are getting to me, so Stewie, Brian, and I walk a little so as the sounds go down ever so slightly. Looking up, I see a man and a woman, probably in their fifties, looking quite disgruntled. Something is familiar about this pair of people, yet I cannot place what it is.

"Cheer up, Henry," the woman says. "At least we are American."

"I will try, Margaret," the man called Henry replies. "We should return across the Channel quite soon. Poor Mildred and Thomas will be missing us."

I felt as if I was going to be sick. I couldn't believe what was happening.

"These filthy Brits will never know what hit them," Margaret goes on. "At least we put in good investments when we did."

"Vivienne?" Brian asks then. "Viv? Are you all right?"

I shake my head. "Those are my great-grandparents," I say softly to him. "Thomas was my grandfather on my father's side…"

"We shall be all right, Margaret my dear," Henry says. "Once we get back to our better country, we shall see just how perfectly the whites are treated."

Stewie throws down the return pad then and presses a button before a white light surrounds us and we're off. When the lights faded and I became aware of my surroundings, I realized that we were standing on the Eiffel Tower. It was twilight, and the clouds were a mixture of deep blue and an appealing pink. Stewie immediately wandered off—well, a few feet away, at least—leaving me and Brian by ourselves. I pursed my lips and turned away, tempted to run off and become lost in the streets of Paris.

"We should talk…"

"Should we?" I ask. "I don't know if I have anything to say to you. As a matter of fact, I don't know if I even want to say anything to you."

"Vivienne…"

"No." My voice is firm. "I can't keep doing this." I sigh. "I love you, Brian Griffin, but just loving you isn't enough anymore." I lower my eyes. "Living in Quahog… I thought it was going to be different, maybe better." I turn to look at him, tears in my eyes. "Moving here was a mistake. A big, fat mistake, and I can't take it anymore." I turn and look at the skyline again, shaking my head. "Fucking Paris…"

"Vivienne," Brian says, taking my hand.

I don't pull away. "Don't…"

He gently pulls me downward, so as I am eye-level to him. "I'm a dick, I know that. Don't you think I know that?! But seeing you wrapped in Charles' arms…"

I pull myself away from him. "Dammit, Brian, why can't you just let that go?! You didn't even let me explain," I say through gritted teeth as I turn away from him. "Charles was so convinced that I was Anna's twin sister Mary that he just wouldn't stop! He just would not stop convincing himself of my supposed identity and then he was kissing me. I told him to stop, that me and John—you, rather—were engaged but he kept saying that he didn't care about that. He wanted me, Brian. Desperately. But I knew full well that I couldn't be disloyal to you, because I love you." I turn back to look at him. "I love you so much, Brian."

He immediately closes the distance between us and pulls down my neck so that our lips are meeting. Tears comingle with one another as we hold each other, and it breaks my heart when I force myself to pull away. As I do so, I see the hurt in his eyes.

"No." I shake my head. "No, Brian, we can't. It's over. It's done. We're over." A clap of thunder resonates behind me as if to prove my point, and rain begins to fall around the both of us. "I respect myself too much to allow myself to be with you. I can't do this anymore, Brian; I'm not the right girl for you."

"Vivienne…"

"No." I hold up my hand, my tears mixing with the rain. "I can't do this anymore."

Stewie, finally seeing that it's not going to work, crosses back towards us. He lowers the return pad slowly onto the ground and the white light surrounds us again. We end up back in his bedroom again, and I go over to stand by the window. I lean my head up against the wall and find myself at a loss for what to do. Hopelessly alone, emotionally, that is, I know that a plan will have to be made.

I feel my phone buzzing then and I look to see that it is the Quahog Hospital calling me and I wonder the reason behind it. "Excuse me," I say, more for politeness than for anything else at that point. I swipe the green phone button and cross my fingers in the hope that Mei Ling isn't on the other end. "Hello?"

"Vivienne? Dr. Hartman."

"Hello, Dr. Hartman," I say. "Is everything all right?"

"Yes, everything's fine," he says. "We've managed to clear the backlog in our lab down here and we've got your blood work back."

Immediately, I get to my feet. "Okay…"

"You're definitely pregnant, Vivienne," he tells me. "Congratulations."

I feel myself stiffen. "Oh. Thank you, Dr. Hartman." I hang up then, not wanting to hear anything else, and hope that he will email the rest of the information to me.

"Are you?" Stewie asks, leaving Brian to wonder.

"No." I shake my head. "False alarm. All the tests at school must've gotten to me." I check the time on my phone. "I've got to go. I promised Donna I'd look after Rallo tonight. I'll see you later, Stewie." I breeze past without saying anything to Brian, and make my way down the hall and stairs and through the living room. I say goodnight to the rest of the Griffins and make my way out the door and across the street.

I go upstairs to the garage apartment. Donna didn't ask me to watch Rallo that evening; he is in bed with a cold and she is looking after him. I lock the door to the stairs and walk over to the window briefly to see if anyone from the Griffin house is looking in. I pull the curtains just to make sure.

I then take out my phone again and dial a familiar number. Tears fill my eyes as the voice answers my call. "Paul, hi, it's me."

"Viv, hey little sister," he says. "How're you?"

I find myself crying openly now. "I did something really stupid…"

"Viv? Sweetie, what's wrong?"

I sigh. "Paul, I'm pregnant," I say, and continue to sob.

"Oh, Viv… It's okay, it's all going to be okay…" He hesitates for a moment and I hear him calling someone in. "Viv, you're on speaker. Sarah's here."

"Sarah," I blubber into the phone.

"Sweetie? You okay?" she asks.

"Don't make me say it again," I beg Paul softly.

"Sar, she's pregnant," Paul says quietly.

"Where's Brian?" she asks. "I assume he's the father."

"Yes," I reply shakily. "He doesn't know."

"Why doesn't he know?" Paul asks. "I thought he was living there…"

"He broke up with me—long story," I say softly. "He wanted to get back together but I turned him down. I can't do it anymore—all this back and forth. I love him, but it's not good for me, and I have a baby to think about now…"

Paul sighs. "Viv, do you want to come home?"

"Well…"

"Viv, you're always welcome," Sarah says. "With our babies due so close, it'll be good to have you around. Please come," she tells me.

I sigh. I peek through the curtains again. "I do want to come home," I tell them. "And I want to stay. I'll keep going to school—online, for the time being—and I'll get my degree. I'll get a job as planned and my own place…"

"Well," Sarah says, "about that…"

"What?" I ask.

"Edwin and Nellie Goodwin just sold their property—you remember our neighbors?" Paul asks me. "Nellie made those caramel apples."

"I remember," I reply.

"Well, they sold their property, but they want their house knocked down… They sold it to us," Sarah says gleefully. "We bought the land at a steal, and we're going to use it to build a guest house…for you. In case you ever wanted to come back permanently."

"A guest house?!" I cry. "For me?!"

"All for you," Paul tells me. "We want you to be close to us."

I smile. "I don't know what to say…"

"So don't say anything," Sarah says.

"Just a thank you would be in order…" Paul tries.

"Hey!" I cry.

"I'm still working on his manners," Sarah tells me.

"Gosh, I'm speechless," I say.

"Yes, say yes," Paul chants. "Say yes, say yes, say yes…"

"Gosh, peer pressure much," Sarah scolds.

I roll my eyes. "Only the best from Dr. Paul…"

"Which reminds me, you'll need an appointment with my OB/GYN," Sarah says in an astute manner. "Dr. Michelle Harper is such a nice woman. You'll really like her."

"I hope so," I say quietly, looking in the direction of the Griffin house.

"So…that's a yes?" Paul asks.

I sigh. "Yes, I suppose it is," I reply. "I'll have to talk to the Browns', give them my two weeks' notice and everything…"

"References," Sarah says gleefully.

"Even though I barely kept the job here…and so many perks…"

"Are you tempted to stay?" Paul asks me.

I blink. "What do you mean?"

"I think he's asking if there's anything holding you back," Sarah tells me, easily translating my brother's words for me.

I sigh, letting go of the curtain, my view of the Griffin house obliterated completely. "No," I tell them both. "Not anymore."