by Lynne Silver
Finally, they were pulling up to her house, and she was opening the door and hopping out before Drew had fully come to a stop. “Thanks for the ride,” she called. “Nice meeting you.” To her surprise, Drew was suddenly at her elbow as she lifted her keys which she’d dug out of her purse three blocks ago. “Uh, thanks for the ride. Nice meeting you.”
He gave her a silent nod, then ghosted back to his car where he sped off to likely go have wild monkey sex with bitchy, but pretty, Scarlett. Olivia didn’t care. Not one stinking bit.
Amy woke up to the sound of her cell phone buzzing on her nightstand. Who was calling this early? She blinked at her alarm clock and realized it wasn’t early after all. Eleven a.m. Her store was closed on Sundays and Mondays, so she could go back to sleep, which was a minor miracle because she felt as if she’d been drugged, she was that tired.
But first, “Hello?” she muttered into the phone.
“Amy?” It was Cat, and she sounded all too chipper for someone who’d been likely up late drinking. Amy could’ve sworn she were hungover, except she hadn’t had a drink. Maybe she was dehydrated from vomiting.
“It’s me,” she muttered.
“I was calling to see how you’re feeling,” Cat whispered, “but it sounds like I woke you up. I’m sorry. Go back to sleep.”
Now that her eyes were open, and the sun poured through her blinds, thanks to forgetting to close them last night, she was beginning to feel more alert. “No, I’m up.”
“Oh, good. How’re you feeling?”
She shifted and stretched and did a gut check. “Better. Hungry. A little light-headed.”
“Really?” Cat’s one word sounded a little too smug.
“What?”
“What, what?”
“Why do you sound like that?” Amy glanced to her side, praying there was water, and amazingly enough, a glass of ice water was on a paper towel on her nightstand. It was still cold to the touch, which meant her roommate must’ve left it for her. He could be such a sweetheart.
“Sound like what?”
Amy could almost see Cat hiding a grin. “Why are you being weird? Did something happen after I left your party, which by the way, was amazing, and I’m embarrassed I ruined it.”
“You didn’t ruin it. And it was amazing, wasn’t it? I thought the caterer was great. I think I’ll have them do the wedding too.”
“Cat,” Amy warned. “Stop talking food, and tell me.”
“Ian’s mom thinks you’re pregnant.”
She sat up. “What!”
“She said you have all the signs.”
“I do not,” Amy protested, but mentally she was freaking out, because she needed to hang up with Cat and check her calendar for the date of her last period, because she couldn’t recall the time with ease, only that it had been a while.
“I’m impressed Mitch managed to do the deed even with his busy travel schedule. Do you think you could be pregnant? Or are we being ridiculous?”
She collapsed back against the pillows because Cat’s assumption that Mitch was the father, reminded her that if anyone was the father of her possible baby, it was Danny, Cat’s older brother. Holy shit.
“Amy? You there? Did I freak you out?” Now, instead of giggly, Cat sounded worried. “We’re heading to Joy and Michael’s for Sunday brunch in a few, but I’m gonna swing by after and check on you.”
“Don’t come by,” Amy said quickly.
“Why?”
“I think Mitch and I have plans.” Total bullshit, but she needed to be alone today to figure things out.
Now there was a silent pause on Cat’s end.
“Cat? You still there?”
“About Mitch…”
“What about him?”
“I really liked him, but then…last night, he didn’t drive you home. Don’t you think that was kind of a jerk move? If he’s gonna be your baby daddy, he should be taking care of you.”
“First of all, he’s not my baby anything, and second, he has a business trip tomorrow. Have you ever vomited on a plane? Well, I have, and let me assure you it’s horrible. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy, so I totally supported his decision not to enter the hot zone.”
“I guess,” Cat said.
Amy wondered why she was defending Mitch vigorously when she’d had all the same sentiments last night when it had been Danny, and not Mitch, seeing to her comfort. Mitch should’ve been the one to leave her a bottle of water, not Danny.
“I’m going to go,” she said, suddenly having to use the bathroom urgently.
“You’re not mad, are you, Amy?” Cat asked anxiously. “I love you and think you deserve a guy who’s going to treat you like a queen. Like how Ian treats me.”
Who could be mad in the face of such friendship? “I’m not mad. I really have to pee.”
“Oh,” Cat said. “Go then. Talk to you later.”
As soon as she was off the line with Cat, she raced to the bathroom, did her business, and then raced out to the sound of her phone ringing again.
“Hello?” She didn’t bother with caller ID.
“Amy? It’s Mitch. I’m calling to see how you’re feeling.”
She smiled. He really was a sweet guy. “Much better today, thanks.” She sank down on her mattress, preparing to settle in to a long chat with him, but the doorbell rang the moment her butt hit the bed. With a groan, she rose to go answer it. It was Grand Central Station around here this morning. Honestly, the next time she felt lonely, the solution was to vomit in public, then be inundated with well-wishers.
Walking to the door, she saw Olivia through the vertical windows next to the front door. They grinned at each other and Olivia held up a plastic bag from the local drugstore. Huh. “Mitch, I have to go. Olivia came over.”
“Call me later?”
“Absolutely.” She pulled open the door. “Hi, Liv. What are you doing here?”
“Coming to check in on you.”
“A phone call would’ve been enough. I don’t want to disrupt your day off.”
Olivia shrugged. “I was up and out early this morning. Had to go rescue my car from Ian and Cat’s.”
Her eyes widened. “Rescue your car? What happened after I left last night?”
Olivia led her to the couch. “I’ll tell you that story in a minute. First, we need to talk about you.”
“Me? What’s to talk about?”
Olivia slipped her hand in the white and red plastic bag and pulled out a narrow rectangular box.
“A pregnancy test?” Immediately, her head swiveled in the direction of Danny’s room, praying he’d slept through her shout. However, the appearance of the water glass at her nightstand and him not answering the door now, told her that he was up and likely out already. “Why does everyone think I’m pregnant?”
Olivia put the box on Amy’s lap. “Because you have all the signs of pregnancy.” Her tone was light, but sympathetic.
“Oh, my God,” she muttered. “I’m sure it was a twenty-four-hour virus. I haven’t had unprotected sex.”
“Probably,” Olivia agreed. “Go take it anyway, and rule it out. These test kits aren’t cheap. Don’t let it go to waste.”
“I’ll pay you back,” she said.
“Go. Take. The. Test,” Olivia said. “Money is beside the point.”
“Fine.” She grabbed the box and stomped off toward her bathroom. “I peed five seconds ago,” she called back. “I bet I can’t go again.”
She bet wrong. The minute her feet hit the bathroom tile, her body knew what to do. Her brain, however, did not. Scowling, she unwrapped the box, reading the directions.
“Pee on the tip,” Olivia called through the door. Great, she’d followed her.
“I can’t go if I know you’re a foot away,” she said.
“Stepping back,” Olivia called through the door.
The whole thing would’ve been hysterically funny if it were happening to someone else, but this was her life, and her peeing
on a stick. At twenty-six years old, she’d never had to do this before.
“When you’re finished, leave it on the counter, and I’ll set the timer. No need to carry it around,” Olivia said loudly.
“Got it,” she muttered, and positioned herself to hold the stick between her legs as she peed. It was not the easiest thing. “This test was not designed for fat girls,” she muttered. And oh no, if she was pregnant, she’d only be getting fatter. Why did commercials always make this look romantic and sweet and sanitary? Reality was a lot worse.
At last, she was finished and laid the test on her washcloth on the counter, then washed her hands.
“Finished?” Olivia called.
“Yep. Coming out now.” She exited the bathroom, sans test, to see Olivia relaxed, making herself comfortable on Amy’s unmade bed. She joined her, but perched on the edge. “How long will we be tortured waiting?”
“Two minutes.”
She wondered if she could hold her breath for two minutes, because she didn’t feel capable of breathing. To distract her, Olivia started telling her all about her adventure getting home last night.
“That was nice of Drew to drive you home,” Amy said. “I’m sorry his date was such a bitch. The good news is we’ll never see her again.”
“Why not?” Olivia asked.
“Because he’s never with the same woman twice.” She was surprised to see a flash of disappointment on Olivia’s face. “Did you like him?”
Olivia laughed, a little too quickly in Amy’s opinion. “No. Other than driving me home, he was kind of a douche bag. Not my type.”
“I don’t know him all that well,” Amy said. “He’s rarely around when I’m with Cat and Ian. Has it been two minutes yet?” She glanced to the bathroom then at the clock. Without waiting for Olivia’s answer, she dashed to the bathroom and grabbed the white plastic stick. “Plus sign. It’s a plus sign, then there’s a blue line. What does that mean? Am I pregnant? Olivia, get in here!”
Olivia’s palm rested on Amy’s shoulder. “You’re pregnant, honey.”
Numbly, she let herself be guided back to the bed where she collapsed down on it. She was holding the pregnancy test, which was kind of gross, considering she’d peed on it, but she couldn’t seem to let go of it.
“Breathe,” Olivia said softly. “Is Danny the dad?”
Amy met her friend’s gaze with wide, teary eyes, and nodded. “He must be, because I haven’t slept with Mitch. But Danny used a condom every time. How did this happen?”
“Welcome to the two percent failure rate. I know your mind is racing in a million directions right now,” Olivia said. “Set all those worries aside for one minute and focus on the most important thing. Do you want to keep the baby?”
“I—”
Olivia held up a hand. “Don’t jump to an answer. Close your eyes and think. Visualize both scenarios and tell me what your gut says.”
She took a deep breath, then closed her eyes. First she pictured herself going to a doctor and coming home. No one other than Olivia and the medical facility would ever know she’d been pregnant. Her life would stay the same. Her throat clogged.
Then she focused on the tiny bean of a baby inside her and pictured herself holding a baby. She couldn’t see if it was a girl or a boy, but in her fantasy she was sitting on her living room couch, holding a blanket-wrapped bundle. A shadowy figure of a man stood behind her. Was it Danny? She couldn’t tell.
She opened her eyes and whispered, “I’m keeping my baby.”
“You awake yet, sleeping beauty?” Danny’s large body appeared in the doorway, holding a paper Publix bag. “Whoa, sorry to interrupt. Hey, Olivia.”
Without thinking, Amy shoved the hand holding the pregnancy test under the blanket, hiding it from view. “Hey, Danny. I’m up. Thanks for leaving me water.”
He stepped into the room and lowered the bag to the mattress. “Everything okay in here?”
“Yeah, why?” Amy asked.
“Because you’re crying.”
“I am?” With her free hand, she touched an eye and discovered they were indeed wet. “Everything’s fine.” She’d tell Danny the truth eventually, but not now. Not in front of Olivia, and not when she’d had approximately eighteen seconds to process the news herself.
He gave her a frown, as if he didn’t believe she was fine, but shrugged then started pulling stuff out of the bag. “Got you some stuff. Crackers. Ginger-ale and some bread to make toast.”
She couldn’t meet his gaze or she’d start crying for real. He was taking such good care of her. “Why are you being nice to me?”
He rose with a scowl on his face. “Should I be an asshole?”
“But we’re roommates. It’s not like we’re dating or something.” Her unthinking remark introduced a weighted silence into the room.
Finally Danny shrugged. “True. I’ll ignore you. Feel better.” He stalked out of the room. Amy watched him leave, wanting to chase after him with every bit of longing she could muster, but if she did chase him, she’d end up telling him about the baby. Their baby, and she wasn’t ready for that big reveal yet.
Olivia watched her in silence for a second, then made a clucking noise with her tongue. “Chica, if I had a man bringing me crackers and soda after he’d seen me vomit, I’d be running after him, not insulting him.”
“That’s today,” she whispered, in case Danny was still in earshot. “What about tomorrow when temptation overwhelms him and he gives in to it? What happens when he comes home drunk or high with his baby in the house?”
“Are you not going to tell him about the baby?” Olivia’s dark brown eyes were wide.
“No, I’ll tell him, but I don’t want to concoct any fantasies that we’re going to fall in love and be one cute little happy family.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s a bad idea. I can’t think about what I want anymore.” She patted her ample tummy, which was about to get ampler. “There’s two of us now. Holy shit, that’s crazy saying it out loud.”
“That’s true,” Olivia said, “but what if he can stay clean? What if he’s your soul mate?”
Amy looked from the doorway where Danny had disappeared to her stomach and then burst into earnest tears.
Danny slammed the Maserati door behind him on his way out of Ian’s car. How the hell he’d gotten talked into a guy’s night out, he had no idea. It was probably when Cat threw the brother-in-law card at him.
He’d only been sober and clean for a year, but it was kind of amazing how quickly people forgot or seemed to think it would be easy for him to go to a bar. A year ago they were locking up the liquor cabinet upon his approach, and now they were throwing him into the booth at one of the hottest spots in Miami.
Cat had called last week to ask him to consider going for a guy’s night out with Ian. “Not a bachelor party,” she’d promised. He’d told her he’d think about it, but when Ian called himself to ask, he’d capitulated. It wasn’t as if he had other plans, especially with Amy hiding in her room all the time lately.
He followed Ian down the block to the building that could be mistaken for a warehouse in the heart of Miami’s Wynwood neighborhood. He guessed it was a club by the huge line of people crowded on the sidewalk hoping for entrance.
“Nice crowd,” Ian said, obviously his professional commentary on the scene.
He shrugged. He had no idea what number of people made for a good crowd to a club owner. Ian was here for both personal and professional reasons. Danny stepped to go get in the back of the line, but a head jerk from Ian told him there’d be no line for them.
They made their way past the crowd where Ian shook hands with the bouncer and they spoke for a few minutes, but Danny couldn’t hear over the noise of the crowd. Finally, they pushed their way inside, and he was happy to see it wasn’t an over-the-top trendy place. It was pretty chill with comfortable lounge-like booths and a black wooden bar. No neon disco lights, no waitresses in glittery spandex.
Only a bartender in jeans and white T-shirt at the bar, pulling a beer.
They settled into one of the booths marked “reserved,” and waited for the rest of their friends to show up. They didn’t wait long. When Danny saw who arrived first, he smothered a groan. Spencer had gone to high school with him and Ian, and had always been kind of a dick. He’d been the asshole to actually make a comment after Danny’s parents’ death that it was cool that he no longer had adults to order him around.
He’d refrained from punching the guy, but barely.
“Hey.” Spencer grabbed his hand for a big guy handshake, pounding him on the back. “Great to see you, man.”
“Good to see you, too,” Danny replied, bemused.
They crowded back into the booth, and Ian ordered a pitcher of beer for the table and glasses for the guys who hadn’t arrived yet. Danny ordered a ginger ale. Amy had liters of it in the kitchen now, and he’d developed a taste for it.
As they waited for the drinks and everyone else to arrive, they chatted.
“What have you been up to since high school?” Spencer asked. “You went to the U, right?”
“For a semester,” he replied, “But it got to be too much.”
Spencer nodded while Ian watched, giving Danny a subtle questioning look that probably asked if he wanted the subject changed. But if he were going to reenter real life, he had to be able to handle normal conversation.
At that moment the waiter arrived with their pitcher in one hand and his soda in the other. “Glasses coming in a sec, boys,” she said.
He took a sip of his soda.
“Are you the designated driver tonight?” Spencer asked with a nod to his drink.
“Yes, and every other night,” he said. “I’m a recovering addict,” he explained bluntly, partly to get it out of the way and partly to see the reaction.
Spencer’s eyes widened, but he recovered quickly. “Sorry to hear that. Glad you’re on the right path again.”
“Thanks,” he said. The guy’s reaction seemed genuine. Maybe he wasn’t the same douche bag he’d been in high school. God knew Danny was a totally different person. He decided to give Spencer a second chance and settled into the booth, feeling like maybe this going-out thing wasn’t a totally terrible idea.
