Chapter 30 Vivian "Stop quoting Gandhi all the time. It doesn't apply here!" I push past her and shut the door in their faces. With shaking hands, I pull up my cropped shirt and rub my hand over my concave stomach. At least that's good-I mean not good that I seem to be losing weight like crazy but good that there's no baby bump. When do baby bumps show up? I have no clue. I unwrap the first test, read the directions, pee on one stick, and then do two more. Edward and I talked about kids-well, he did. When his mother brought up grandkids, I just nodded and smiled. I sit on the closed toilet and rub my forehead. My own story begins by being left on the steps of a police station in the snow in a small town in Upstate New York. All I had with me was a car seat, a blanket, and a locket engraved on the back with "Vivian." I picture a woman leaving me. Did she cry? Why did she never come back? Does she ever wonder about me? The police ran a story about me on TV. They put my story on a billboard. They searched records for babies born as Vivian; they searched for birthing mothers named Vivian-and got nothing that matched. My parents abandoned me. With that kind of baggage, am I even mother material? I shove it aside and stand. I've barely gotten my joggers up when they spill through the door. "I'm surprised you didn't insist on watching me pee." "Didn't want to interrupt the flow," Cece calls as she races to the sink, where I put the tests. Brogan snatches one first. "Nothing yet-" "Gross! That has pee on it," I call out. "I work at Decadence. Pretty sure I've touched pee before." He stares down at the stick as if it's the Holy Grail. Ignoring them, I grumble as I get to the mirror, brush my hair, and sweep it into a high ponytail. My cheekbones are stark, the hollows beneath clearly defined on my pale face. I take off my glasses and stare into my eyes as a cold sweat breaks out over my skin. Fear curls over me, and I dash out of the bathroom and go back to the den so I can't hear them talking. I flip on the TV, loud, then pop another Triscuit in my mouth. "See. No nausea," I say to myself. "No baby bump. Not pregnant." My phone pings, and I pull it out of my bag. More texts from Edward. My hands curl. See me. Talk to me. Vivian. Come on. I'm begging. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. The bell from the downstairs front desk rings, and I push the button on the wall. "Yeah?" Herman's slightly nasally voice comes through the intercom. "Vivian, hi. Edward showed up. You told me to send him away, so I did." "Thanks for letting me know." "No problem." Lost in thought, I don't hear my door opening over the sound of the TV; I don't hear someone walking down the hall, then entering the den. A hand touches my shoulder. Flinching, I turn as I gasp. "Jesus! Edward! What are you doing here?" I put a hand to my heart. "I hate people sneaking up on me!" "Sorry." His whiskey-colored eyes hold mine. "I didn't mean to scare you. Your door was cracked, and you were talking to Herman-" "Is that him?" Herman yells. I still have my finger on the button. "Yes," I say tersely. "In the flesh." "I'm so sorry, Vivian. He must have walked in with some residents. Want me to send security up?" I glance at Edward, taking in the dark circles under his eyes, the way his jeans hang on him. Good. I sigh. I don't want any drama on my floor. Several of the residents are older. "Do you plan on murdering me, Edward?" He shakes his head, then calls out, "I'd never hurt her, Herman. Sorry I gave you the slip." Oh, but he did hurt me, and my face must say that because he drops his gaze. [ exhale. Part of me has wanted to see him again. Is it because I still care, or is he a habit? I haven't seen him in two weeks, and I wait for the usual bite of pain mixed with longing to hit, and it does, but it's muted, focused on what's happening in my bathroom. 'I'm fine, Herman. Brogan and Cece are with me." 'Good. One more thing," Herman says. "Tuck Avery came by earlier and asked if a Vivian lived here. I said yes but didn't give him your last name or apartment number, but, um..." "Yeah?" I ask. 'He wanted me to describe you, and I'm not good with things like that. I said you were sweet and pretty. Is there an issue with you and Mr. Avery?" 'He didn't believe I lived here. I've been here for years!" 'Well, we do have over three hundred residents." He chuckles, then says, "You sure you're okay with Edward?" I tell him yes, turn off the intercom, and then lean against the wall as I stare at Edward.