Lost Along the Way(37)

Until it turned out that it was.

“I lost the baby. Again. I’m never going to be a mother,” Meg said quietly. There weren’t even any tears left.

“Oh my God, Meg,” Cara said. She was struggling to look at her, but Meg didn’t know why. Cara reached over to grab Meg’s hand and when she did, the cuff of her shirt nudged a piece of paper out from the stack of mail on the table. A magazine had been thrown on top of it, but Meg saw the headline. WHAT TO DO FOLLOWING YOUR PROCEDURE. Meg pulled the paper from the stack and began to read, her brain computing only a few words on every line: sporadic bleeding, no exercise for seventy-two hours, doxycycline. Meg would be handed a similar sheet after her next doctor’s appointment, she knew, because the same instructions were given every time a surgical procedure was necessary to finish off what nature had started. But Cara had never told her she was pregnant. Meg saw her all the time and she never mentioned it, plus she still had glasses of wine with dinner and steams at the gym. There was only one explanation, but Meg’s brain was having a hard time processing it.

“Why do you have this?” she asked. Cara looked at the paper and the little color she had in her face quickly drained. “Why do you have this, Cara? Answer me.”

“It’s nothing,” Cara said, snatching the paper out of her hand.

“It’s not nothing. I know what this is. If there is anyone on earth who knows what this is it’s me. What did you do?”

“Nothing, Meg. Leave it alone.”

“You had an abortion,” Meg said, stunned that the sentence had come out of her mouth. Never in a million years would she have thought it was possible.

“Meg, please,” Cara said, as if Meg was annoying her by asking the question. What did she expect her to do? Ignore it?

“Oh my God. Why? How could you do that? You’ve seen what I’ve been going through for years. You have a normal pregnancy, and just end it? You just give that away? How could you be so selfish?”

“This has nothing to do with you, Meg. What I choose to do with my personal life is none of your business. I’m sorry that you saw this. I never meant for you to know. And I’m sorry that this happened to you again. But our situations are different. Our lives are different, and the last time I checked, I don’t have to consult you or anyone else before I make decisions concerning my body and my life.”

“You didn’t even tell me you were pregnant! Why? I don’t keep anything from you! Why would you hide this from me?” Meg was shouting, but she couldn’t help herself. She and Cara never fought; in fact, she couldn’t remember the last time they’d disagreed over anything.

“Because I didn’t want to have this conversation, that’s why! And you know what, Meg? Just because you can’t keep your mouth shut and tell everyone everything there is to know about your reproductive system doesn’t mean that I’m the same way. I’m allowed to have a private life.”

“I do not!” Meg said.

“Oh, please! You tell me when you have f*cking yeast infections, Meg! Why does anyone need to know that?”

The words hurt Meg. She’d always thought that best friends shared everything, and now Cara was making her feel like she’d been boring her with the details of her life. Or worse, that she’d been a burden.

“What does that have to do with anything? You’ve never once mentioned not wanting kids, and it’s not like the topic of conversation has never come up between us. How is it possible that through all of these years, you never once said anything about it? How could you have an abortion? How could you do that?”

“What, are you political now? Why are you choosing this moment to pick a side?”

Meg couldn’t believe that she was insinuating this argument was at all academic. It was emotional, pure and simple, and if Cara were better attuned to her feelings, she’d get that. “I don’t give a damn about the politics of it! I care that it hurts me. I’d give anything, anything, to be able to carry a normal, healthy baby, and you just gave your chance away? Why, Cara? You’re in your thirties, you’re married, and you have money. There’s no reason for you to have an abortion. You’ve seen firsthand what this whole experience has done to me, and that’s the decision you made? I don’t know how to handle that. I don’t.”

“There’s nothing for you to handle! It’s not the right time for me, and that’s all you need to know!”

“Are you kidding? That’s all you’re going to say? It’s not the right time?”

“Look, Meg, you came to my house to talk about your problems, not to quiz me on the decisions I make for myself. You don’t have an all-access pass into my personal life just by virtue of being my friend. You’ve been like this your whole life, you know that? You have no filter, and you expect me to be the same way. I’m not. You’re not entitled to know everything. I’m sorry if that hurts you or if you don’t understand it, but it’s true, and if you want to stay friends with me, you’re going to have to accept that there are parts of my life that I’m not going to discuss with you or anyone else. This is one of them. You can either be okay with that or not. Either way, this conversation is over.”

It was crazy. How could Cara possibly think that they’d just go back to pretending everything was normal? It was like all the advice and sympathy Cara had been giving her over the years was tainted, like she’d never cared at all. Meg was enraged, and maybe jealous in some way, that Cara could have what she wanted so badly and not value it at all. She looked at Cara sitting across from her at the table and somehow felt like she didn’t know her. There was no longer a reason for her to stay there that afternoon, and as it turned out, no reason for her to ever go back.