Valerie

I walked around the house, cleaning every speck of dirt that dared to settle on the furniture. My back ached from moving the brown plaid sofa to vacuum away the dust bunnies collecting beneath. I was happy, right? How do other women manage their days?

My mom had everything scheduled for the second. Her house ran like a well-oiled machine. I wish it were that easy for me. I leaned over to move the coffee table. Vomit moved from my stomach up to my mouth. I ran to the washroom, covering my mouth. It took a few minutes for my body to stop staking from emptying my stomach contents into the toilet.

I rinsed my mouth before reaching beneath the sink for the pregnancy test. My husband, Steve, would be home from work in two hours. I had to start cooking dinner soon, but I must know first. With shaking hands, I removed the test from the box. I peed on the stick as directed in the pamphlet.

Steve and I moved to Los Angeles after our honeymoon. Have we only been married for three weeks? It seemed longer. We started dating four years ago. Maybe that's why it felt so long. Mom tried to plan the wedding sooner, but Steve was adamant about waiting until he completed law school. Steve was one year older than me.

I had no friends in Los Angeles. Steve got transferred to the LA office one week before our wedding. His boss said it was the only way he could become a junior partner in the law firm. I stupidly agreed to move wherever Steve could advance in his career. My wants and needs were an insignificant afterthought.

My mom said I had to do whatever my husband wanted. She claimed it was the recipe for a happy marriage. I found myself working hard to find happiness in my marriage. Does everyone have that much difficulty? I knew we would experience growing pains as we acclimated to living together.

Three minutes later, I learned I, Valerie Helen Plum-Corelli, was pregnant. Steve and I are having a baby. I was excited until I wasn't. What if the baby belonged to Joseph Morelli?

Admitting my baby might be a Morelli seemed odd, but it wasn't. My bachelorette party group crashed the bachelor party. Stephanie was too young to drink, so my maid of honour didn't invite her to the festivities. I honestly felt bad since she could have been our designated driver. It hurt her feelings. I knew Stephanie would never say anything about not attending my party. She was too good to stoop to that level or complain.

Stephanie fantasized about marrying Joseph Morelli from the time we were little. She thought he was handsome. It didn't matter that he was known as the Italian Stallion who enjoyed popping cherries, using his lizard tongue to coax virgins into having sex. Joe took my virginity at age fifteen. I know he took Stephanie's virginity when she was sixteen. She was devastated when Joe never called after their encounter. Stephanie actually thought she would marry Joe and live happily ever after like a princess in a fairy tale. She had to ruin everything after hitting him with our father's Buick. Luckily, the cast was gone before Steve had his bachelor party. You can't have the best man walk down the aisle on crutches. What would the neighbours think?

At Steve's bachelor party, my bridal party and I met the men at a strip club. Everyone was drunk. I gave Joe a lap dance in a private room. One thing led to another, and we had unprotected sex. That was the weekend before I got married to Steve. I looked the other way when Steve let the stripper give him a blowjob. What? Getting upset with Steve was like the pot calling the kettle black. Did Steve know I slept with Joe? I prayed Steve remained ignorant.

I wiped the tears and splashed cold water on my face to reduce the puffiness. Smiling, I remembered Stephanie becoming indignant because I cried pretty. What the heck was that supposed to mean? I checked the time and rushed from the bathroom to cook dinner for Steve. My stomach tried to revolt, but I managed to suppress the vomit.

We grew up in Chambersburg, New Jersey. It was a subdivision in Trenton, often referred to as the Burg. I respected the rules within the community where the men worked, and women tended to the house while raising children. It was too soon in our marriage for children, but that decision was a done deal. Getting an abortion was out of the question. My mom would never forgive me. I also couldn't live with that guilt.

Steve came home as I managed to put the lasagna on the table. I had the dining room table set with plates, garlic bread, salad - only because Steve wanted it - and wine. He rolled his eyes, then dished food onto his plate. I poured a small amount of wine into my glass to throw off suspicion. Steve wanted us to wait a few years before having children.

After Steve finished eating, he went upstairs to shower. What had Steve done to warrant a shower after work? It surprised me more when Steve grabbed the laundry to wash.

"I need my suit dry-cleaned. Can you take care of it in the morning?" Steve asked as he passed me in the kitchen.

"Sure." I continued to wipe down the counters and table. The leftover lasagna got covered in plastic wrap, and I put it on a shelf inside the refrigerator. Steve could take some for lunch. "I'll switch the laundry when the wash cycle completes," I offered when Steve returned.

"Thanks, Val," Steve replied. He made himself comfortable in our living room. I heard the announcement from the sportscaster indicating it was the fifth inning. Steve would remain in that spot until the ballgame ended.

I went to bed several hours later. Steve had gone to bed at the top of the ninth inning. His team had lost. It would take a miracle for the team to pull a win. I put Steve's clothes away, hanging his dress shirts and placing the socks, undershirts and boxers in his dresser.

My lip trembled as I rubbed my stomach. I had to tell Steve about our baby. How would he react to the news? Would he want me to keep it? What should I do? I only had one solution. My hands shook as I called Stephanie.

"Hello?" she cheerfully asked. Why does she have to be so happy?

"Hey, Steph. Do you have a few minutes to talk?" I tentatively asked.

"Um. Sure. Give me a second," Stephanie replied. "Hey, guys. I have to take this call. I'll be back." I heard indistinguishable conversations before Stephanie returned. "Val, is everything okay?"

"I'm pregnant," I said, getting to the point.

"That's great. You're going to be a great mother, Val. I'm so happy for you," Stephanie said. She heard me crying. "Oh, no. What's wrong? Doesn't Steve want a child?"

"He doesn't know. But that's not why I'm calling, Steph. What if the baby isn't his?" I asked.

Stephanie laughed for a few minutes before she got serious. "Are you sure?" she asked. "That's a huge assumption, Val. When did you get pregnant?"

"Between my bachelorette party and the wedding night," I answered honestly.

"Did you have sex with Steve every night?" Stephanie asked.

"Yes," I replied. Stephanie explained that even if I cheated on Steve, which she seriously doubted, there was a tiny possibility that another man fathered my baby unless Steve was sterile.

"Is he?" Stephanie asked. I was confused. "Steve. Is he sterile?"

"No," I snapped. "Thanks for the advice, Steph. I didn't know who else to ask." I hung up the phone, feeling relieved.

Steve was asleep when I went to bed. He didn't move when I flushed the toilet, which I found odd. I washed my face, then changed into my nightgown. My body ached, and I was exhausted. I climbed into the bed and faced away from Steve.

My husband left the bed before I woke up in the morning. I must have slept past the alarm. When I made the bed, I found the cordless handset underneath Steve's pillow. Does he know? "Steve never listened to my conversations," I reasoned. I made the bed, then left my bedroom to do my other chores.

Cleaning bathrooms was a disgusting task, yet it needed to get done. I sprayed the shower tiles and faucet. The cleanser required a few minutes to work. I squeezed the toilet bowl cleaner into the toilet and scrubbed it with the brush. Using my forearm, I wiped the hair off my forehead.

I checked the tiles and determined it was time to remove the cleanser. A few gout lines needed extra scrubbing, but I got the shower spotless. Grinning, I marked the bathroom off my list of cleaning duties.

The kitchen floor was linoleum and easy to clean. It took a few passes of the mop to remove the soap residue. Everything was clean. I could relax for a few hours before cooking dinner.

My phone rang, making me smile. "Hello. You have reached the Corelli residence," I answered.

"Hi, Val," Stephanie replied. "Have you told Steve?"

I sat on a chair and released a breath, relieved it wasn't Mom calling. "No, but I think Steve knows," I replied honestly. A tear dripped onto the table. I rubbed it away with my finger. "I found the cordless receiver under his pillow this morning."

"Oh. That can't be good. Val, tell him about the baby," Stephanie said. "You are pregnant, right?"

"The pregnancy test was positive. I still have to confirm it with the doctor."

"Do that immediately. See if you can get an appointment today." I knew my sister wasn't judging me. She only wanted what was best.

"What if Steve listened to our conversation last night?" I asked.

"You don't know that, Val. Steve doesn't keep his thoughts hidden. He would tell you if he heard anything," Stephanie reasoned. My sister was right. Steve didn't let anything fester and grow into an unmanageable mess.

"When's your first class?" I asked.

Stephanie giggled, "I called you instead. My World Literature class is boring. I have friends taking notes. We're reading another Jane Austin book. Where are the books about adventure?"

"I love Jane Austin. Which book this time?"

"Mansfield Park. We finished Pride & Prejudice last week. I thought we'd be reading more interesting stories. This course will hurt my perfect grade point average," Stephanie complained.

My sister might think I have the world by the ass, but I don't have her intelligence. Stephanie has the entire package. She's sexy, gorgeous, friendly and intelligent. "It's not too bad, Steph. Call if you need help with the book," I offered.

"I might take you up on that," Stephanie joked. "Val, call the doctor to book an appointment. I'll talk to you later. Don't worry about Steve. He will let you know if he eavesdropped on our conversation."

"Thank you, Steph. I'll call the doctor now," I said, then ended the call.

As promised, I called the local clinic. They had an opening for one thirty. I drove the car to the clinic, arriving fifteen minutes before the appointment to complete the medical paperwork.

The nurse led me to an examination room. I waited fifteen minutes before the doctor arrived and confirmed the pregnancy. Since I didn't have a family practitioner, she asked me to return in nine weeks. I booked the appointment with the receptionist before leaving.

When I got home, I made Steve's favourite meal, hoping it would soften the blow of my news. Stephanie called as I assembled the chicken alfredo and Caesar salad. I quickly relayed the message. She sounded genuinely happy for me.

"Val, you didn't say, but who is making you question paternity?" Stephanie asked. "I'm alone in my dorm. My roommate is staying with her boyfriend. Nobody would overhear our conversation. Unless you're not alone."

"Steve hasn't come home yet. He should be home when dinner is ready," I replied.

"Who?" Stephanie demanded.

"The Italian Stallion," I caved. Stephanie inhaled a sharp breath. "I'm sorry, Steph."

"I hope for your sake that you're carrying a girl," Stephanie said. I heard the hitch in her voice. She was devastated.

"I'm really sorry, Steph," I repeated. The sound of the dial tone was loud in my ear. She never heard the last apology.

Stephanie never called again. She was obviously angry with me. Her hopes of marrying Joseph Morelli went down the drain. Mom said Stephanie was dating Dickie Orr. I hoped he would remain faithful.