It's Easier Than It Seems

I sat nervously tapping my foot on the linoleum floor in the reception of my doctors practice. I had scanned through five copies of out of date magazines that were lined with dust, front to back, and I still had a few minutes to wait.

I had taken up people watching as my new hobby, but all I had seen so far was two old cranky women, a pregnant lady, and a neurotic woman with a naughty child.

I watched the child mess up the toy box, and throw a piece of Lego across the room whilst the mother's back was turned, and it was making me angry. Why wasn't the mother paying attention? Not only could the child get hurt, it could hurt someone. That and I felt sick, so any little thing was bugging me.

“Jennifer Walker, Dr. Short,” The loudspeaker spoke. I grabbed my bag, thankful I could get away from everyone before I exploded, and made my way to the doctor's office.

I pushed open the oak door with a creek and peered around the door. Inside sat an old lady with grey speckled hair, she welcomed me with a warm smile and offered me a seat.

I sat down nervously and put my bag down on the floor. “Hello,” I smiled at her.

“Hello,” She greeted back. “How are you today, Jennifer?” Dr. Short asked me.

“Well, I've been feeling sick the past couple of days. At first I thought it was a 24 hour stomach bug, but well... like I said, it's been a couple of days now, and I'm having trouble keeping anything down, especially in the morning,” I told her, fiddling with a button on my coat.

“You say it's worse in the mornings?” She questioned, looking over my notes.

That's when it clicked in my head, around the same time it clicked in my doctor's head. My eyes widened when I realised... how could I have been so stupid to not suspect? I knew the next thing she would ask, and I already knew the answer.

“Could you be--,”

“God, no... no, no way it's impossible,” I interrupted, rambling, turning bright red. “It's not that.”

She gave me that look and I turned a deeper shade of red. “It says in your notes that you can't take the pill because of your migraines,” She tilted her head at me. “Do you want to take a test?”

My mouth dropped open. This cannot be happening, I must be asleep. “No, I'm... I'm fine,” I stuttered, I felt like a piano had just dropped on my head. “I'm not pregnant... it's clearly a bug. I mean other people at work were sick, too, and I've been really run down with stress a-,”

Dr. Short put her hand up to stop my rambling and smiled softly. She stood up out of her chair and walked over to the other end of her office. She searched in her drawer for awhile before returning to me with a pregnancy test. “Take this, and if you're negative I suggest trying not to eat, but taking lots of liquids so you don't dehydrate.”

I stared down at the little box in her hands. The box could change my life—or well, the results of the test inside the box. It was the only test I actually wished I would fail. I can't be pregnant, that would just...

...oh God. What about Billie Joe? He would be the father.

A wave of sickness splashed over me, I took the pregnancy test and ran to the nearest toilets inside my doctors, and heaved up that one slice of toast I took a gamble on earlier in the morning.

I looked to the test in my shaky hands, unable to hold the box still even for one second. I felt my eyes sting with tears forming. Why? Why now? After everything has happened, why this? Why me?

I decided to take it, because deep down I think I knew I could be pregnant. Deep down I knew I couldn't just blame it on a bug, but I hoped to God that it was.

I knew this would be the longest three minutes of my entire life.

***

“It's nice to actually see my son for once,” Ollie remarked, grinning at her son as she settled down a plate of food in front of Billie Joe. “I've been worried about you.”

Billie rolled his eyes like a 14 year old and sighed. “So has everyone, apparently,” He said, tucking into his sandwich gratefully.

Ollie didn't take her eyes off of him; like a hunter had found it's prey, she was analysing him. She sat down opposite Billie and continued to watch him eat the sandwich like a hawk.

Billie lifted his head and looked to, realising he was being judged by his mother. “...what?”

She just smiled in reply innocently. “Nothing.”

When he realised that she was still watching he put the sandwich down. “What?!” He exclaimed. “Stop it! It's freaking me out.”

Ollie giggled in reply and put her hand on top of Billie's. “I'm here for you, you know?” Her mood turned serious fast, and her face told it all; she was a worried mother, looking out for her baby. “Come over any time when you need to talk it all out, okay?”

Billie could fight her all he wanted to, but she'd always win—she was his mom, he couldn't hide anything from her. He nodded slowly in reply and looked down at his plate, unable to look at Ollie in reply. “It hurts,” He said quietly, sadness in his tone.

Ollie's heart almost burst from hearing how her son was in so much pain. “Oh honey,” She got out of her chair and gave her son a warm hug. “I know, I know. It hurts to lose someone you love, it feels like your heart has been ripped out and stamped on, but you know your story doesn't end here, right?” She asked, looking down at Billie's haggered face. She brushed the hair out of his eyes and smiled. “She's still alive and kicking, and she's still out there. If you want her so much, go get her back.”

Billie's eyes widened; he expected advice, but more of a 'there's plenty more fish in the sea'' speech. “You think?”

“I'm your mother, I know. You haven't been this obsessed with anything since you started your band, and look where that ended up,” She smiled. “Now finish your sandwich.”

***

In one split second, my whole world collapsed around me. I felt all the foundations of my life crumble and I was left with nothing but questions and regrets.

It was positive.

I was... pregnant.

That annoying child in the reception? That could be mine.

Did I even want a child? Did Billie want another?

My hands had formed pools of tears, I had been sat in the toilet for ten whole minutes. I hadn't paid attention to the fact someone had been knocking on the door the last two minutes, whether they were concerned or just needed the toilet I didn't care. I just wanted to hide away in this toilet for the rest of my life and never come out.

If I came out I'd have to face reality. I was stuck in Manhattan pregnant with my ex-boyfriend's baby that I would be raising as a single mother. I'd struggle to find time between work and the baby, but I'd probably be fired before I took maternity leave any way. Which means I'd have no money and I'd be sleeping in the bus station.

My other option would be flying back to Oakland and telling Billie the truth, but that option seemed a lot scarier.

I couldn't even consider abortion, as much as I was pro-choice I couldn't bring myself to kill my own unborn child, even if it's life meant I had to totally re-evaluate my own.

“Ma'am, please, there is a line forming outside of people who need the toilet,” I heard a woman say on the other side of the door. She sounded like the receptionist I had spoken to earlier.

I lifted my head from my hands and stood up off the toilet. I grabbed some tissue for the pregnancy test and for my face then stumbled out of the toilets ever so gracefully.

Three bewildered women stared at me, and their faces went from being annoyed to caring in three seconds. All of a sudden I had three strangers wrapped around my body in comfort.

“Oh honey, are you okay?!” One said, looking to the pregnancy test wrapped in tissue in my hand. “It's okay, it will work out whatever the problem is.”

I burst into tears again, almost like I had three adoptive mothers. “No it isn't!” I cried into them. “It really isn't okay.”

The three older women cooed over me, stroking my back with such care, and offering words of support.

“You think that now, but trust me, it always comes together, especially when you least expect it to,” One woman spoke up, in which the other two women agreed.

“Oh she's right, I had a one night stand and it turned out to be the best thing ever, my son is amazing, I love him more each day,” She smiled, her eyes lighting up like she was looking at a bar of gold. “When you see the baby... everything changes.”

I sniffed and wiped my eyes, hearing them offer me so much support even if they didn't know me helped so much. “Really?” I questioned them, my voice wavering, ready for another onslaught of tears.

“Really,” said the oldest of the women reassuringly, whilst she wiped my eyes with one of her own tissues. “Now go and live your life without worry, worry is bad for the baby,” She smiled warmly.

“It's easier said than done,” I managed to smile back, realising that I now had something new to worry about; worry.

***

“So you have four friend requests,” Mike revealed, spinning around on the office chair to face Billie Joe. “Ask one out one a date?”

Billie raised his brow, shifting uncomfortably on his feet like a three year old. “A date?” He said with a hint of nervousness in his tone. “Like a date date?”

Mike laughed at his older friend, not quite believing how young Billie was acting. “Yes... like a date date.”

Billie bit his lip. “I guess I should,” He murmured, before walking over and leaning over Mike. “What about that one?” He asked, jabbing his index finger into the computer monitor.

“Sasha Cooper, 32, model, blonde haired and blue eyed, loves rock music, sports and Italian food,” Mike read out loud before looking back to Billie. “Sounds almost too perfect,” He quipped.

Billie saw the look in Mike's eye—he could see the uncertainty but there was something inside of him that no longer cared. “She will do.”

***

I felt like I had the secret to the meaning of life, scrunched in white scented toilet paper. I couldn't take my eyes off of it no matter how much I wanted to look away; I hated it and loved it all at the same time.

It sat on my bedside drawer, the sun shining through the window onto it like it was Godly. I sat opposite on my bed, slumped into pyjamas and cuddling my pillow. I really needed a real friend that I could just blurt all my worries to.

I wasn't ready for a child; emotionally, physically, career wise and relationship wise. I didn't tick any of the boxes. I didn't know how to be a mother; I hadn't ever looked after a child, and I didn't even have a brother or sister. So would I have to rely on instinct? Was that enough?

Up until now I hadn't even questioned the age gap between Billie Joe and I. I was ten years his senior but it never once plagued my mind. I had never felt like it was a barrier we had to overcome, whether it was because I was more mature for my age and Billie Joe was... less mature for his, I wasn't sure.

But I knew that I was too young to have a child, and that maybe he was too old. He had two children already, and he was nearly 40. That stage of his life was over with, whilst mine wasn't supposed to begin for a few more years.

It's not like... years mattered all too much. It was the stage in life. Whilst I had a good career, my feet weren't planted firmly on the ground. I wasn't in a relationship, and my job status was questionable, and mentally wise; I was unsure if I could cope.

When I started thinking of age I started to think of how long I had known Billie. It had only been seven months but it already felt like forever, I did love him, whether or not he loved me back... was another thing. It was still such a short time; too short perhaps, I wouldn't even consider the idea to start a family. Even if we were still together this would be a total shock to me.

I sighed heavily and looked from the test to my phone; I had to call someone, I couldn't just carry this all by myself, and there was one person who deserved to know.

I tossed the pillow I had used as a comforter aside and leant over to pick up the phone. My hands were shaking so much that I couldn't even tap my number into the keypad on my iPhone, instead I flicked through recent calls and my eyes landed on the one person who wouldn't turn their back on me.

After a few rings they picked up. “Hello?” They said, sounding groggy.

“Mom... it's me... I know it's late over there but... we need to talk,” I quietly said, feeling my stomach rise up into my throat fearing what she may say.

“What's wrong? It sounds serious,” She asked me, her tone of voice sounding very motherly.

I closed my eyes, I knew it had to be done like ripping a plaster off in one hard pull. “I'm pregnant,” I blurted out, feeling 120% better, but at the same time like I had let her down so much, and when the silence loomed over us I felt the hairs on the back of my neck prickle like a cold wind had past me by.

“Wow... this is... wow,” She said, sounding overwhelmed.

I was noticeably shaking all over my body, and it was then I noticed I was having an anxiety attack. My eyes welled up with tears, my nose started to run and I got that horrible dull ache in the back of my throat. “I'm so sorry,” I blurted out, before my emotions took the better of me and I let it all out.

I couldn't stop crying, and even through my mother saying that it was okay on the other end of the line I knew it wouldn’t help. I wish I could have seen her in person to tell her, and I wish she was there to hold me. Instead I was sat alone in my apartment confused and so lost.

It was the worst feeling in the world.

***

“You're Billy Strong?” Sasha asked, not quite believing who was stood before her. “...as in... Billie Joe Armstrong?” She couldn't quite believe her eyes, and at first she thought she was being Punk'd, but no, it was real. Billie Joe from Green Day was stood outside of her door with a bunch of gas station flowers grasped in his hands.

Sasha was even more beautiful than her online photo had shown. One glance at her and you could tell she was a model; she had legs that went on for miles and an almost sculpted face. Her eyes were an ice blue, her straight blonde hair reaching past her shoulders. She was almost too perfect to be true.

He offered a smug grin. “That's me! Sorry I couldn't tell the truth though, I would've had thousands of requests,” He admitted, still smirking. “Oh!” He finally remembered the flowers he held so tightly in his hands and handed them over to Sasha.

She smelt into them and smiled softly. “Thank you Billie, they are beautiful.”

Billie felt more eased with how positive and relaxed her attitude seemed to be. “Much like you, then,” Billie said, instantly regretting his decision to act corny. “Sorry, that was... cheesy.”

Sasha laid her flowers down on a chest of drawers and giggled. “No, it wasn't,” She replied, moving out the way as to let Billie inside. “But I didn't think you were a romantic,” She tilted her head, tucking a loose strand of her naturally blonde hair behind her ear. “So what do you want to do tonight?”

Billie's hormonal mind raced like a young teenager's, but he knew he had to control his impulses because he couldn't take things too fast. Unfortunately for his adult self, the teenager won and he threw caution to the wind.

He bit down into his lip, his mouth forming into a wry smile. “I can think of a few things.”