Rainbow Rowell - Attachments

From: Jennifer Scribner-Snyder
To: Beth Fremont
Sent: Wed, 08/18/1999 9:06 AM
Subject: Where are you?

Would it kill you to get here before noon? Im sitting here among the shards of my life as I know it, and you if I know you, you just woke up. Youre probably eating oatmeal and watching Sally Jessy Raphael . E-mail me when you get in, before you do anything else. Dont even read the comics.

<> Okay, Im putting you before the comics, but make it quick. Ive got an ongoing argument with Derek about whether For Better or For Worse is set in Canada, and today might be the day they prove me right.

<> I think Im pregnant.

<> What? Why do you think youre pregnant?

<> I had three drinks last Saturday.

<> I think we need to have a little talk about the birds and the bees. Thats not exactly how it happens.

<> Whenever I have too much to drink, I start to feel pregnant. I think its because I never drink, and it would just figure that the one time I decide to loosen up, I get pregnant. Three hours of weakness, and now Im going to spend the rest of my life wrestling with the special needs of a fetal alcoholic.

<> I dont think they call them that.

<> Its little eyes will be too far apart, and everyone will look at me in the grocery store and whisper, Look at that horrible lush. She couldnt part with her Zima for nine months. Its tragic.

<> You drink Zima?

<> Its really quite refreshing.

<> Youre not pregnant.

<> I am.

Normally, two days before my period, my face is broken out, and I get pre-cramps cramping. But my skin is as clear as a babys bottom. And instead of cramps, I feel this strangeness in my womb region. Almost a presence.

<> I dare you to call Ask-A-Nurse and tell them that youve got a presence in your womb region.

<> Given: This is not my first pregnancy scare. I will acknowledge that thinking Im pregnant is practically a part of my monthly premenstrual regimen. But Im telling you, this is different. I feel different. Its like my body is telling me, It has Begun.

I cant stop worrying about what happens next. First I get sick. And then I get fat. And then I die of an aneurysm in the delivery room.

<> OR and then you give birth to a beautiful child. (See how youve tricked me into playing along with your pregnancy fiction?)

<> OR and then I give birth to a beautiful child, whom I never see because he spends all his waking hours at the day-care center with some minimum-wage slave he thinks is his mother. Mitch and I try to eat dinner together after the babys in bed, but were both so tired all the time. I start to doze off while he tells me about his day; hes relieved because he wasnt up to talking anyway. He eats his sloppy joe in silence and thinks about the shapely new consumer-science teacher at the high school. She wears black pumps and nude panty hose and rayon skirts that shimmy up her thighs whenever she sits down.

<> What does Mitch think? (About the Presence in your womb. Not the new consumer-science teacher.)

<> He thinks I should take a pregnancy test.

<> Good man. Perhaps a common-sensical kind of guy like Mitch would have been better off with that home ec teacher. (Shed never make sloppy joes for dinner.) But I guess hes stuck with you, especially now that theres a special-needs child on the way.

LINCOLN, YOU LOOK terrible.

Thanks, Mom. Hed have to take her word for it. He hadnt looked in a mirror today. Or yesterday. Lincoln rubbed his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to smooth it down or maybe just over. Maybe he should have combed it when he got out of the shower last night.

Seriously, look at you. And look at the clock. Its noon. Did you just wake up?

Mom, I dont get off work until one a.m.

She frowned, then handed him a spoon. Here, she said, stir these beans. She turned on the mixer and half shouted over it. I still dont understand what you do in that place that cant be done in daylight. No, honey, not like that, youre just petting them. Really stir .

Lincoln stirred harder. The whole kitchen smelled like ham and onions and something else, something sweet. His stomach was growling. I told you, he said, trying to be heard, somebody has to be there. In case theres a computer problem, and I dont know

What dont you know? She turned off the mixer and looked at him.

I think maybe they want me to work at night so that I dont get close to anyone else.

What?

Well, if I got to know people, he said, I might

Stir. Talk and stir.

If I got to know peoplehe stirredI might not feel so impartial when Im enforcing the rules.

I still dont like that you read other peoples mail. Especially at night, in an empty building. That shouldnt be someones job. She tasted whatever she was mixing with her finger, then held the bowl out to him. Here, taste this What kind of world do we live in, where thats a career?