Chapter 32: To err is human...

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I was still trying to reach her mobile phone when I heard a car round up the driveway. Wade and I both peeked through the windows to see who it is. “Kuya Ralph?!”


True enough, it was Mr. Smart A*s behind the steering wheel and Wendy on the passenger’s seat. Why is she with him? What, they started hanging out like old buddies again? They decided to—


Calm down, I said to myself. The last time I encountered the guy, I was unable to keep my temper and things got pretty messy. I can’t risk any of that happening again now that Chi and I are finally doing okay.


“Good thing Kuya Wesley isn’t here or God knows what’ll happen when he sees him,” I heard him mutter.


Yeah, lucky bastard. I exhaled sharply in frustration and waited with Wade in the foyer.




“Looks like your boyfriend is waiting for you,” he teased, pointing to our main door where Gerard is standing next to Wade.


I merely chuckled and hugged him goodnight. “Thanks again. Drive safe.”


“See you at school,” he beamed before he revved off followed by the tow truck.


I walked up to my little brother and kissed his cheek and did the same with Gerard. “I didn’t know you’d be here. Kanina ka pa ba?”


“Your car broke down?” He nodded to the direction of my Volvo, his voice sounded a bit restrained. “You should’ve called me.”


“My phone’s battery went dead, fortunately Ralph was there. He even called a towing service so I wouldn’t have to leave my car in the school lot.” I noticed him furrowing his brows while I was talking. “Are you mad?” I faintly asked.


His face grew serious. “I want to be there the next time things like these happen, okay?”


“Okay… sure…” I stammered, somewhat bemused with his unusual mien.


He let out a jaded sigh then he finally eased up. “Have you had your dinner? I brought baked ziti,” he crinkled his eyes in a smile.




“Off the record question,” Liz said, finally breaking the hour-long silence. “Are you sure it’s Wesley’s? Not that I’m judging you or anything, I just want to hear the confirmation directly from you,” she spoke, careful not to rub the conversation the wrong way.


“He’s the last person I slept with,” I bore out. “God, how can I be so stupid!” I sank into the chair of my vanity table and buried my face between my hands.


I’ve always been so anal-retentive about contraceptives because you can’t always rely on men to take precautionary measures into their own hands. But birth control be damned, because here we are ten days later: seventeen unopened pregnancy kits but all three of them with a positive result! I don’t think I need to pee on the rest just to smite my head with a big, fat reality check.


I’m pregnant. Period.


“Damn you and your sperm cells, Wesley Mañalac!” I bawled.


Liz wiped the annoying drops of clear liquid seeping out of my orbits and warmly held me in her arms. “You should really talk to Wesley and Wendy about this. You shouldn’t face this alone, Cars.”


“Wendy is going to kill me,” I sniveled, making loud, convulsive gasps in between.


“It’s not like you have a choice, Carrie. Wesley owns half of the chromosomes of this kid so he has every right to be included in this matter.” I know she’s trying to talk some sense into my frail brain but I’m still not ready to face this. I’m not ready to acknowledge the truth just yet. Telling Wesley or anyone else would mean that I accept the legitimacy of the pregnancy kits’ results. I can’t… I just can’t.


“I screwed up big time, Liz,” I sobbed weakly.


“Come on, honey, don’t be like that,” she cooed, hoping to soften the blow. “You’re stronger than this.”


I was hanging on my last, thin thread of hope. Even though I didn’t want to cause anymore burden on other people, I clearly didn’t have any choice left. I pressed the number 3 on my keypad and let speed dial fulfill its purpose.


She answered on the fourth ring. “Ate Phoebe,” I softly uttered. “I think I need an OB-Gyne consult.”




I just got out of my Law Ethics subject when my phone buzzed. Liz’s name flashed through my caller ID screen.


“Hey, Bebeth,” I answered enthusiastically, calling her by her most hated household pet name. “What’s up?”


“I’ll let you pass the Bebeth crap, Mañalac,” I could hear her scowling through the other line. “Because I have something to tell you and your sister.”


“I guess someone’s got a monthly visit today because you sure are crabby,” I razzed.


“Oh, and someone had just missed her period because you apparently slept with her,” she retorted.


Her condescending comeback had brought my back to my senses. All the comedic retort that I have for her earlier had just gone out of the window. “WHAT?” I snapped as I sharply stepped on the breaks.


“You heard me right, Wesley. I’m meeting up with your sister at St. Luke’s. I suggest you do the same,” she said before she hung up.




The nurse asked us to wait inside one of the examination rooms near the ER hallway while she tries to get hold of the OBG doctors that my sister personally requested. Then, a male medical technician came in to obtain a blood sample for my quantitative blood serum test, or beta hCG test; my sister was carefully observing him the entire time (primarily because MedTech was her pre-med). He said the results would be out in an hour then left the room to send the sample directly to the laboratory.


She sat on the chair adjacent to the door, letting out a long sigh of despair while kneading the back of her neck in the hopes of relieving the tension that I’m causing her. “You always managed to come up with something days before Kuya Henry’s memorial service. Last year, it was France, Scotland the year before that, Maldives prior to that. And now this?” Ate Phoebe was never one to raise her voice even if the circumstance requires it. She’d perfected that composure by putting it into practice in my rebellious growth and development.


“You think I wanted this to happen?” I glowered. “You really think I want to intentionally sabotage my life by getting myself knocked up?”


I drew in a quick breath and tried to relax my shoulders. “I know you’re disappointed with me right now, Ate. And I really hate myself for putting you through this but I can’t afford to lose your trust when clearly, you’re all I have.”


“Well, then I need to know who the father is, Carina,” she sternly said. I’ve never seen Ate Phoebe this vexed that I almost shrank away from the cold defiance in her glare.


“The issue of paternity is not part of the objective today, Ate,” I muttered with a pleading tone. I don’t think I can juggle two sets of confession at the moment.


A female doctor entered the room and shook hands with my sister. “Thank you so much for taking us in such short notice, Ellie.”


“No problem at all. Anything for a batch mate,” she said with a sincere smile.


“This is my younger sister, Carrie. Carrie, this is my med school batch mate, Doctor Ellie Castelo.”


“Nice to meet you, Carrie.” I shook her hand and meekly nodded. “Before we start, I just need you to answer a few questions, okay?” She began with asking about my LMP (last menstrual period), normal days of my menstrual cycle, last time I smoke or drank alcohol (good thing I got too wind up with my case studies that I hadn’t had a cig since Wade’s party, or heaven knows what kind of teratogenic substance I’d just inflicted on the embryo), and of course, my last sexual intercourse.


After that, she asked me to change into one of the hospital gowns from the bathroom closet and lie down on the obstetrics chair as she dons surgical gloves. Ate Phoebe was holding my hand while I was trying to focus on breathing in and breathing out and let Doctor Castelo do her job.


“Well, I think we’re done here,” she announced after a few minutes, pulling the gloves off her hands and straight to the yellow garbage bin.


to be continued…


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