Chapters (77)
- Cover
- Dedication
- 1
- 2
- A Series of Screw-ups: The Chisaki Joan Katsuyama Story, Part I
- 3
- The History of My Beef with Brynn Foer-Preston
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- The History of the Katsuyama Family, Part I
- 8
- 9
- A Brief History of Chisaki Joan Katsuyama’s Romantic Learning Opportunities, Part I
- 10
- 11
- 12
- A Brief History of Chisaki Joan Katsuyama’s Romantic Learning Opportunities, Part II
- 13
- The History of the Katsuyama Family, Part II
- 14
- 15
- 16
- 17
- 18
- 19
- The Complicated History of Chisaki Joan Katsuyama’s Imaginary Relationship with Her Nonexistent Dad
- 20
- 21
- 22
- A Brief History of Chisaki Joan Katsuyama’s Romantic Learning Opportunities, Part III
- 23
- 24
- 25
- A Brief, Backward History of the McAllister Family, as Paraphrased from the San Jose Mercury News
- 26
- 27
- 28
- A Quick and Eerily Relevant History of Asians in America
- 29
- 30
- 31
- 32
- 33
- 34
- 35
- 36
- A Brief History of Chisaki Joan Katsuyama’s Romantic Learning Opportunities, Part IV
- 37
- 38
- 39
- 40
- 41
- 42
- 43
- 44
- A Series of Screw-ups: The Chisaki Joan Katsuyama Story, Part II (Or Maybe It’s a Prequel)
- 45
- 46
- 47
- 48
- 49
- 50
- 51
- 52
- 53
- The History of the Katsuyama Family, Part III
- 54
- A Note from the Author
- Index of Flowers and their Meanings
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Praise for This Time Will Be Different
- Books by Misa Sugiura
- Back Ad
- About the Publisher
No fever. No swollen lymph nodes. Nothing wrong with my lungs or my heart, no noticeable swelling of any of my organs. Dr. Shumba turned to Mom and said, “Could you just step into the hallway for a minute? I’d like to have a private conversation with CJ here.”
“Oh, sure. No problem!” Mom stood up and left with a fake smile on her face.
Once we were alone, Dr. Shumba went over her notes for a few seconds before asking me, “When did you say your last period was?” She lifted her gaze and looked me in the eye, and I knew she knew.
After my inadvertently weepy confession, she gave me a tissue, went over some options, and said gently, “You have a few more weeks. Think about it carefully, and then do what you’re comfortable with. If you decide to tell your mother and she disagrees with what you want to do, feel free to contact me and we can figure it out together.”
“Okay.”
Think about it carefully. I had just assumed I would end the pregnancy. Shit. Did that make me a bad person? That it was never even a question?
But Mom couldn’t possibly want for me to have a baby. Right?
On the other hand, Mom decided to have me.
Day 60, continued
Once we were in the car, Mom asked, “So what did you and Dr. Shumba talk about?” in a voice that was so casual, it sounded forced.
“It’s confidential.”
“Nothing I need to know?” Her voice was still light, but a note of suspicion curled through it, acrid as burned coffee.
“Nuh-uh,” I said, and pretended to fall asleep, so Mom wouldn’t ask me more uncomfortable questions.
Still Day 60
We had my favorite takeout for dinner: pomegranate apple mango chicken bowl from Aqui. I did my best, but halfway through, I had to suppress the urge to gag. Which was when Mom pounced.
“CJ, are you pregnant?”
I wanted desperately to lie, but the lie was too big. It lodged in my throat along with the cumulative anxiety of the past few weeks. It was thick and heavy and I thought I might choke on it. “It’s, um. I, um.”
Across the table, Hannah froze, her fork halfway to her mouth.
“CJ. Answer me. Is that what you and Dr. Shumba talked about? Are. You. Pregnant?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
Mom took in a sharp breath and looked off to the side. Hannah lowered her fork to her plate. I tried not to cry.
“Let’s remember that we’re a family,” said Hannah, a little too brightly. “We support each other. Good times and bad times.”
“Are you sure?” said Mom, as if Hannah wasn’t even there.
I nodded.