down at the round wooden table. Cookies before pregnancy tests. That seemed the way to go. She bit into the warm sweetness and closed her eyes. Instantly, she was brought back to one of her fondest memories. Ellie had just started to date Henry, and they’d spend the night here on the weekends—hungover from the bars while Aunt Mary cooked them greasy blue-collar breakfasts.
“I wish I could take it all back,” she said aloud.
“Don’t ever wish that,” Aunt Mary said. “Come what may, it’s all meant to be.”
“I don’t know,” Sam said. She stood with her plate, but Aunt Mary blocked her way to the sink.
“I’ll deal with that,” she said. “You just go on upstairs.”
Ellie had emailed her the flight details. Sam took her time on the stairs. It felt like she was on a ship’s plank and had no idea what waited for her at the end.
Ellie had been right. There was an unopened box of pregnancy tests at the back of the bathroom cupboard. She pulled it out and looked at the instructions. Stupid. You pee on the stick. Everyone knows that. Still, she wanted to know exactly what to hope for. This test was easy. Yes for pregnant, No for not pregnant. Nobody could mess this up.
Sam pulled down her yoga pants and hovered over the toilet. What if I can’t pee? What if I get an error? What if it’s wrong, no matter what it said?
She shouldn’t have worried. A trickle of urine released, like her body knew exactly what was needed. Sam sat the test on the counter, pulled down the toilet lid, and waited. She watched the clock on her phone and refused to even peek at the test until the full three minutes were up.
I just knew, that’s what Ellie had said. She got that, completely. It felt like she wasn’t alone, like there was someone else with her. That’s what pregnancy feels like.
When her clock showed 4:12, she stood up and looked at the test. There was no way to get it wrong. Yes, the test read.
Sam crumpled onto the floor. She missed the toilet and it banged painfully into her backside. She didn’t care, she was thankful for a second of distraction. Fresh tears began to pour out of her. What the hell am I going to do with a baby?
“Sam?” Aunt Mary appeared in the doorway. “Oh, honey. It’s positive?”
She couldn’t speak, she just nodded, and buried her face in her hands.
“Come here, come here,” Aunt Mary said. The old woman surprised her with her strength as she pulled her to her feet. She led her into the living room and Sam collapsed onto the couch.
She cried, unrestrained, in Aunt Mary’s lap. Sam felt like a child again. Aunt Mary petted her back and smoothed her hair. “I know, I know,” she told her.
What did she know? She didn’t know anything! Sam swallowed her bitterness, refused to let her fear and anger leak out onto this kind woman. “What… what am I going to do?” she sputtered. “I didn’t want any of this. I didn’t plan any of this.”
But you did! What did you think was going to happen? How many times did you let him come in you—beg him to come in you? She ran over all the times she’d been with Connor, all the stupidity, and it brought on a fresh river of tears.
“It’s going to be okay,” Aunt Mary said. “I promise. You just let it all out for now.”
She listened to the comforting words and did as Aunt Mary said. When all the tears had dried up, she felt lighter. Like her bones were hollow. Still, she stayed with her head in the woman’s lap all the way until Ellie walked through the door.
31
Connor
“What’s wrong with you, man?” Chase asked as Connor scratched yet again at the billiards table.
“Who are you, my mother?” Connor snarled. Chase looked at him in surprise. “Sorry, just off my game today.”
“Testy, testy,” Jay said.
Connor took a deep breath and avoided the bait. It had been a month since the shitshow at The Cottage, and he hadn’t heard a word from Sam. Not for his lack of trying, and not that he blamed her. He couldn’t believe how his father had acted—actually, that was wrong. His father had been his usual self. What Connor couldn’t believe was how he’d reacted.
He kept going over their last conversation in his head. She’d confided in him, that was all. She wasn’t Sandra. He