I could tell Stacy wanted to say more on the subject but had decided to keep silent. For now, anyway.
We approached my car, and I unlocked it with my key fob. Stacy’s mom-van was a few spots down.
“Oh, before I forget,” she said. “I was scheduled to volunteer in Livi’s classroom tomorrow, but now I have a time conflict. The mother who organizes the classroom volunteers told me your clearance has been approved. Can you fill in for me?”
She told me the time.
“Sure, why not? I’m looking forward to finally meeting Livi’s teacher.”
10
Kiera
“You ready?” Ava asked.
She and Chloe were standing in the doorway of my classroom.
I slipped the nonfiction book I was holding into its spot on the bookshelf. “Ready for what?”
“We’re going shopping. And then we’ll go to your house and wait while you take the test.”
“I take it you don’t mean a spelling test?”
Neither answered because it was obvious what test they were referring to.
That plunging sensation in my stomach?
I didn’t need a test to know what it was going to tell me.
But it would definitely explain the odd blueberry-smoothie craving, which hadn’t lessened any since lunch.
“Where am I getting the test from?”
Translation: Are we going to the mall so I can finally deal with this craving?
I grabbed my purse from my desk drawer and a small stack of files to take home.
“I was hoping we could go to the mall,” Chloe said. “I need to buy a baby gift for one of Landon’s sisters while we’re there. I told him I’d get it for him. He’s clueless about these things.”
And blueberry smoothie it is.
The three of us drove our cars to the shopping center. The entire drive over, I prayed my body was pranking me.
That I wasn’t really pregnant.
That my recently expanding waistline, my larger-than-normal boobs, the blueberry-smoothie craving, the tiredness, and how I was several months late were due to something else.
Something temporary and benign.
Not once during the drive to the mall did I wonder how I would explain the pregnancy to my colleagues and my family and my friends.
Nor did I think about how I was a pregnant widow whose husband died well over a year ago.
But the moment I stepped from my car, the reality of my situation came crashing in on me.
What the heck was I planning to do?
Okay, first things first.
I needed to take the test—or several tests—and see what the verdict was. There was no point in getting all worked up if they were negative.
Something inside me—possibly my ovaries—started laughing their heads off.
Right, ovaries don’t have heads, but you know what I mean.
“Are you going to tell us who the father is?” Chloe asked, voicing what was no doubt also on Ava’s mind.
We walked toward the entrance.
“All I know is his first name. We didn’t share last names. I didn’t think it was necessary. What happened between us was a one-time thing.”
Grayson’s last name might have been Mathews. But just because that was his grandmother’s last name, it didn’t mean he shared it. She had remarried, so it probably belonged to her new husband.
“All I know is, he lives in Chicago.”
“Chicago?” Chloe echoed. “That complicates things.”
Don’t I know it.
“There’s a chance I’m not pregnant.”
Those pesky ovaries? They started laughing hysterically again.
“If you’re pregnant, are you going to tell him?” Ava asked.
“I don’t know. First I need time to process that I’m pregnant. If I’m pregnant. Having this conversation in person would be tough enough, but I’ll have to tell him on the phone. I need a few months to wrap my brain around this before I even think of trying to track him down.”
“If you don’t know his last name,” Chloe asked, “how are you planning to find him? Finding a needle in a haystack would be easier.”
“True.” I explained about his grandmother.
“Maybe Liam can find out information about the guy,” Ava said. “His team has quite the connections.”
That didn’t surprise me. I didn’t know a lot about what her husband and his company did beyond what Ava could tell us, but I did know he had connections with the FBI.
“I’d rather not go that route until I’ve spoken with Grayson. Let me see what he wants to do about the baby, and then if I feel like it’s necessary, Liam can look into his background afterward.”
Just because the condom had forgotten its function in life didn’t mean I wanted to snoop around in Grayson’s private life.
I already knew he wore boxer briefs. What more did I need to know?
“So what did the guy look like?” Chloe asked, eyes bright with curiosity.
“I’m not really sure. We wore masks the entire time.”
“Even during sex?” She sounded slightly impressed by that.
And intrigued.
I momentarily grinned at my vivid recollections of that night. “Yep, even during sex. That was my choice. I didn’t want to know what he looked like.”
In retrospect, that had been an epically bad idea. Although at the time, my rationale for the secrecy about our appearance had sounded great in theory. I hadn’t wanted to risk fantasizing about him while I was pleasing myself. I didn’t want to have a face to think about during the act.
So instead, I had erotic dreams about a masked stranger.
“What can you tell us about his appearance? Or was he wearing a potato sack over his head?”
I laughed as we entered the mall through the automatic doors. “No, he wasn’t wearing a potato sack. He had short light-brown hair and blue eyes. And he was tall and athletic.”
There had been something familiar about him, but I couldn’t place what it was. It was probably nothing more than my imagination.
After I picked up the box set for Tyler from the bookstore, we headed to a store that sold high-end baby products for the gift Chloe needed to buy.
“Oh, this is adorable!” I picked up a onesie from the display of onesies, sleepwear, and bibs, and showed it to them. It read, Daddy says I’m not allowed to date. Like ever.
Ava held up another one. “No, this is perfect.”
The front of it read, Mommy doesn’t want your advice.
“I can’t tell you how many times I got unsolicited bad advice when Cassie was a baby. And now I’m getting unwanted advice on how to parent a toddler.”
Chloe took them from us and added another one that read, Future Hockey Player.
“The baby comes from a long line of hockey players,” she explained. “Her grandfather, her uncle Landon, and her mommy all used to play hockey.”
A neatly folded oatmeal-colored onesie caught my attention. It simply said “Love Bug” on the front.
I didn’t return it to the stack.
Chloe and Ava studied me, eyebrows raised.
I lifted my shoulders. “I figure if the test comes out positive, this will be my first step in acknowledging the truth.”
“And if it comes out negative?” Ava asked.
I grinned at her. “Well, Cassie isn’t going to be an only child, is she?”
Chloe’s grin was bigger than mine. “Or maybe they’re already trying for Cassie’s sibling.” We eyed Ava expectantly.
Her face flushed. “I’m not pregnant, if that’s what you’re asking?”
“So, you’re admitting that you’re trying.”
“There’s a possibility that we may or may not be trying to get pregnant again.”
Chloe and I laughed. “We’ll take that as a yes, you’re trying,” Chloe said.
“I’m hoping that if I’m pregnant, you quickly get pregnant too, so I’m not doing this alone
.” I cringed at how that came out—because the truth was, I really was doing this alone.
I would be a single mother.
Not at all how Stephen and I had envisioned things when I’d stopped using birth control three months before the accident.
We had been excited about the possibility of being parents, of filling our child’s world with love and happiness.
I guess the joke was on me.
During the three months we’d tried to conceive, nothing. And then one night with a masked stranger and I was possibly knocked up.
Go me.
An unexpected tear trailed down my cheek. I wiped it away.
Chloe pulled me into a hug. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. And you won’t be alone, no matter what. I know this isn’t how you had planned things, but it really will be okay.”
I hugged her back. “I don’t even know why I’m such a mess.”
“Pregnancy hormones will do that to you.” Ava’s expression clearly stated, “so you’d better get used to it.”
Yep, the evidence was definitely stacking in favor of the test swinging in the positive direction.
God, how am I going to explain this to everyone?
Maybe I could claim it was an immaculate conception. Was that even a thing?
We continued shopping. Chloe grabbed several more baby items, oohing and aahing over everything as we went. By the time we left the store, her baby gift had acquired quite the collection of adorable items, including a cute floppy giraffe.
“Do you mind if we hit the Smoothie Hut?” I asked. “I’ve been craving a blueberry smoothie all day.”
I could see Ava mentally add another check to her rapidly growing list of signs I was pregnant.
At this rate, I didn’t need to buy a pregnancy test. Ava’s list said it all.
The food court was busy when we arrived. We lined up at the Smoothie Hut and ordered our drinks, then headed to the drug store.
“Kiera, how are you doing?” Mrs. Wasserman, my parents’ seventy-five-year-old neighbor, stood in the middle of the parenting aisle, holding a box of tampons I was positive wasn’t for her.
I had known her forever. She was sweet and friendly and a bit of a gossip.
Correction, she was a huge gossip. If you wanted everyone in the neighborhood to find out something, you just had to tell her, and everyone would hear about it by the end of the day.
The internet had nothing on her.
Which meant the last thing I needed was for her to spot me buying a pregnancy test. Not unless I wanted my parents to know about it before I had a chance to pee on the stick.
I threw Chloe and Ava what had to be a panicked glance and turned to the elderly woman. “Hi, Mrs. Wasserman. I’m good. What about you?”
“I’m doing great. My grandson took me to see the latest Fast and Furious movie. That Dwayne Johnson is a nice piece of eye candy.” She winked at me. “Don’t you agree?” The question was directed at all three of us.
At Ava’s startled reaction, Mrs. Wasserman chuckled. “I’m seventy-five years old, young lady. I’m not in my grave yet. I can appreciate the fine male species just as much as someone your age.”
I introduced her to my friends.
“And what are you three up to?” she asked.
Yep, she was definitely looking for some juicy details to share with the Grapevine Express (I kid you not. That was the name of her group of friends who helped spread the gossip. They even had T-shirts and mugs with the name and logo on them).
“We’re just shopping. Chloe needed to buy a baby gift for her boyfriend’s sister.”
Rule #1 when dealing with a gossiper?
Distract her with irrelevant details that have nothing to do with you. If you’re creative enough, she’ll never realize what you’re up to. Your secret will be safe.
“And what did you buy there?” Her gaze fell knowingly to the bag in my hand—the one with the store logo that matched the bags in Chloe’s hands.
Oops.
Right, I was never a good liar.
“Umm. It’s for a baby shower…gift. For a colleague. At school.”
Somehow I kept from covering my face with my hand.
“Oh, that’s so sweet. And what are you doing down this aisle? You ladies aren’t by any chance buying condoms, are you?”
I inwardly flinched at how loud she said that. I’d be surprised if the entire store hadn’t heard her.
Fortunately, she lowered her voice for her next question. “Have you tried those glow-in-the-dark ones? They sound like quite the hoot. Too bad they weren’t invented until after my eggs turned to dust.”
Chloe, Ava, and I shared a look. Only one of us showed any hint of mortification at the question. The other two were highly amused.
Please don’t repeat this conversation with my family, I silently begged Mrs. Wasserman.
Oh, who was I kidding? Of course she’d repeat it to my parents.
Better they think you’re buying glow-in-the-dark condoms than purchasing a pregnancy test.
“That’s exactly what I’m buying.” Chloe grabbed a box from the shelf.
“What about you, Kiera?” Mrs. Wasserman asked, her expression on the hopeful side of things.
“Chloe has a boyfriend. I don’t.”
My parents’ neighbor’s gnarled hand reached for a box and passed it to me. “I bet you’d have a boyfriend if you used these.”
Heat rushed to my face. Was it too much to ask for, to buy a pregnancy test without any witnesses who knew my parents?
Speaking of condoms, Grayson and I had used them every time we’d had sex. Brand new condoms. At least I assumed the ones in the hotel gift shop hadn’t exceeded their expiry date.
So I couldn’t possibly be pregnant.
Yes, yes, I know. Even though the box might state a 99% efficacy rate, real life wasn’t quite as perfect. Something like fourteen out of a hundred women who used condoms wound up pregnant.
But why did I have to be one of those fourteen women? Until that night, I hadn’t had sex in over a year.
Why couldn’t Murphy’s Law have given me a little leeway? Made me an exception to his stupid rule?
Just when I thought I couldn’t be any more mortified than I was, someone decided to prove me wrong. Nick Wasserman, the man angels wept over because he was that handsome, walked toward us. His gaze dropped to the box of condoms in my hand, then shifted to my face.
If I thought my face was hot before, that had been nothing compared to now.
“Nick, you remember Kiera, don’t you?” his grandmother said. “Ed and Beth Nickleson’s daughter.”
“I do. The last time I saw her was during their Christmas party, wearing a sweater with Rudolph on it. And Rudolph’s nose glowed.” He seemed to be working double time to keep from laughing out loud.
Ah, yes. The infamous ugly Christmas sweater Mom had given me for the party.
“Yes, that would be me.” Chloe and Ava had seen photos of the outfit, complete with reindeer antlers attached to a headband.
The ensemble hadn’t exactly been my dream outfit for the night, but it had made Mom happy, so I’d worn it.
“Kiera was just mentioning to me that she’s still single,” Mrs. Wasserman said. “Nick’s single, too.”
That sound? It was the angels tooting their trumpets in triumph.
Only I didn’t share their sentiment.
Not to say he wasn’t a nice guy. He was. Even Stephen had liked him—but he also hadn’t made Stephen’s list of men that I could marry if Stephen died before me.
And even if he had, it was too late for that if I failed the test I was about to take.
Or would be taking once I could sneak a pregnancy test past Mrs. Wasserman’s prying nose.
Ava and Chloe peered on with interest. Chloe flashed me a He’s-hot, double-thumbs-up message with her eyes.
“Maybe we can get together for coffee some time,” Nick said.
“Absolutely,” Chloe replied. “She
would love that.”
I flashed her a What-the-hell-are-you-doing? expression.
Hers responded, Getting you a date with a hot man.
Are you forgetting I might be pregnant? was my answering reply.
Her eyebrows raised as if to say, It’s just one coffee. You are allowed that when you’re pregnant.
I ignored her.
An hour later, Ava, Chloe, and I sat in my living room, waiting for the three minutes to tick down on my phone. In front of me on the coffee table was an array of peed-on pregnancy tests.
Yes, I did eventually buy them, after Nick got my phone number. And no, I didn’t buy the glow-in-the-dark condoms. Chloe did, though, as a joke for her boyfriend.
“Sooo,” Chloe began, “if the test is positive, what are you going to tell everyone when they ask about the father? Even though it’s none of their business, people will ask.”
“Maybe I should just tell everyone it’s Stephen’s baby.” The corners of my mouth twitched, giving away the fact that I was kidding. “That would certainly make things easier if Grayson wants nothing to do with the baby. Heck, maybe I shouldn’t even try contacting him.” At least that would be one less person to disappoint because I’d let a super hot kiss morph into super hot sex.
Ava snorted a laugh. “That won’t work, Kiera. Stephen’s been dead for over a year now. So unless you’re an elephant, no one’s going to buy that your baby is his.”
She had a point there.
“So I guess it won’t fly if I tell people that Stephen and I had been attempting to get pregnant for a while, and because things hadn’t gone as planned, we’d been seeing a specialist? And I used his frozen sperm to get pregnant?”
Chloe chuckled. “Well, that would be one way to explain how your gestation period ended up resembling that of an elephant.”
“I’m not sure if that’s how it works,” Ava said. “I think they only do that if the husband has a disease that will eventually impact his fertility, and the couple isn’t ready to have a baby yet. But I could be wrong.”
That was too bad, because it would be easier telling people the frozen-sperm explanation than letting them know the truth. And then the baby would never have to know that they were the result of Mommy having a one-night stand with a stranger.
Decidedly with Luck (By The Bay Book 6) Page 6
