“Something life threatening?” Cat’s mind immediately veered toward her mother’s unlucky fate. Her next breaths were strained and tight, as if the small room suddenly lacked enough oxygen.
“Doubtful. But we need to consider all possibilities.”
Cat’s stomach acid began to churn. Intuitively she’d known something was wrong, but she’d been putting off this appointment in order to forestall bad news. Why had she thought she’d be ready today? “Possibilities such as?”
“Well, thyroid or hormonal imbalances, sexually transmitted diseases, or the less likely candidates: primary ovarian insufficiency and premature menopause.”
“Menopause?” The word struck with the force of a punishing slap. “But I’m only twenty-eight.”
“Granted, it’s uncommon. It affects about one in one thousand women under thirty.”
Cat’s scattered thoughts collected, latching on to one unfortunate memory. “Didn’t my mom enter menopause fairly early?”
Dr. Wexler nodded. “Yes, your mother’s history is a factor, but it isn’t decisive. Let’s draw some blood to check your FSH and estradiol levels, among other things.”
A small, thin version of her voice wove its way through the haze that consumed her thoughts. “So I might be infertile?”
For years she’d wrestled feelings of emptiness while forced to project an image of absolute confidence and sensuality. How ironic now to possibly be—quite literally—empty. Barren. To confirm that, all this time, her insecurities hadn’t been a figment of her imagination. That all along her father’s perception had been true. She really, truly was just a pretty face.
Her customary armor of indifference slipped for a second. Anxiety tightened her throat, making it feel like she’d swallowed a golf ball.
“Statistically speaking, your problem is more likely the result of stress and unhealthily low body fat. But ten consecutive months of missed cycles is significant, and unfortunately infertility is an issue with both POI and POF.” Dr. Wexler’s lips pressed together in a tight line.
“How long until you receive the test results?” Cat’s voice sounded distant and tinny in her ears.
“Not too long. In the meantime, try to relax and gain a few pounds.” She smiled. “I’m sure many women would love that prescription.”
Cat closed her eyes while the doctor completed a few forms, determined to reject the dread winding its way through her mind like a rat in a maze. She had barely begun to fit the splintered shards of her heart back together. How would she manage to fix this latest blow to her soul?
“I’ll be in touch soon.” Dr. Wexler handed her the forms. With a brief nod, she exited the room. Cat sat, stuck to the table, taunted by the steady ticking of the clock on the wall.
By three o’clock, Cat’s ferry was cruising across the Long Island Sound toward the Atlantic and Block Island. Staring out the window, she scanned the wide-open sea. If she focused only on its inviting surface, glittery with sunlight, she could almost ignore the realities of its murky darkness, the turbulent churning of sand, the sharks and other creatures lurking beneath its surface waiting to strike without warning.
Absently, she clutched the fabric of her skirt in her fist.
What a cruel joke! Pregnancy—something she’d actively prevented since losing her virginity—might now never be an option. Pressure gathered behind her eyes despite the fact she had no husband, no boyfriend, nor any immediate desire to be a mother.
Enough! Given her lifestyle, stress and low body weight made more sense than menopause, for God’s sake. Perhaps this wake-up call meant the time had come to change her life. To parlay her “brand” into some new career—one that allowed her to eat.
A brief smile formed at the thought of enjoying an occasional dessert, but then her mind returned to work.
She certainly wouldn’t be the first model turned entrepreneur. The real question was what, exactly, could she do next, given her limited skill set? If she’d finished college or had other work experience to fall back on, perhaps she’d meet this challenge with less reluctance.
Cat heaved a sigh just as her phone rang.
“Are you getting close?” Vivi asked before Cat even said hello, her bright voice instantly lifting Cat’s mood.
“I should be there in thirty minutes.” Cat scanned the horizon.
“Oh, good!”
“Excited much?” Cat chuckled at her memories of Vivi’s blatant devotion to her brother. “How many times did you imagine being Mrs. David St. James? I lost count by tenth grade.”