scheduled lab time because a mandatory meeting at work took priority. The protection range provided me with a few weeks of leeway overlap without any concern. Now that I’m thinking about this, my freaking period has been absent. “Oh, crap.”
She laughs down the line. “I get that a lot.”
I leap from the couch and begin pacing. “What am I supposed to do?”
“You always have options, dear.”
Of course I do, but only one made sense. Not that she cares about my plans. “Are you certain of the results?”
“Blood tests are the most accurate at this stage. You can take a few urine tests at home for added reassurance. We’ll see you in the clinic at the eight-week mark for an ultrasound. Can you confirm the last date of your menstrual cycle? Very early detection, yet extremely accurate. If you want further proof, I would suggest getting an at-home test followed by a visit to your doctor.”
I prattle it off quicker than my name. The fifth of October has been stamped in my brain. A countdown had been going in looming fear of getting my period in the wilderness.
“We’ll see you at the end of this month, just after Thanksgiving.”
My mind is reeling, but I manage to set an appointment. I hang up while muffling a sob against my palm. Sweet Jesus, how did this happen? A baby? Kids are so far off my radar, there’s barely a blip to recognize the far off thought. I lay a hand flat against my abdomen. Could it be true?
I text a distress message to my sisters, followed by Casey and Grace. My assumption is one of them will be in the nearby vicinity to swoop over and pass me a paper bag before I hyperventilate. They’ve all been very supportive as I suffer through this separation. Now they’ll need to provide wisdom on how to handle dropping bombs.
My cell buzzes with another incoming call. This is a number I’d recognize while blindfolded. I swipe across the screen with a trembling finger.
“Hey.” My greeting is little more than a mumble. I probably couldn’t hear a marching band parading down the street over this violent thumping in my skull.
“Hello to you.” Casey huffs down the line. “What’s with the vague texting?”
I resume pacing from the kitchen to my bedroom in a jagged line. “Can you come over or not?”
“Someone’s moody. Trouble in paradise?”
“Very funny.” I glare at a spot on the yellow accent wall, imagining her bouncing brows.
“Oh, chill. I’m already on the way, Blake.”
My thumbnail becomes a chew toy while I build a mountain of courage. “Can you do me another favor?”
“Sure.” She drags that one word out with a layer of suspicion.
“I need some pregnancy tests,” I blurt. Saying the words out loud makes me feel faint.
Her sputtering reminds me of Daffy Duck, and I almost laugh. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
“I might need you to repeat that. How did you get knocked up and not tell me?”
What the heck does she call this? My eyes roll to the beamed ceiling. “Ugh, can you bring them to me or not?”
“Duh, mama. I’ll be there in fifteen.” She’s most likely teasing with that nickname, but it makes my eyes burn all the same.
I swipe at the pesky moisture sticking to my lashes. A rock lodges in my throat, but I manage to croak around the emotion. “Thank you.”
“Of course, bestie. No matter what, I’m always here for you. Try not to panic until I arrive.”
A wobbling smile lifts my lips while we disconnect. While waiting, I answer texts from Reagan and Adalene. They’re off the hook for the moment. Depending on what the next twenty minutes brings, I might be alerting them again. Grace is probably still at the office so I can’t be too bothered about her silence. I’m sure she’ll catch up on the gossip train later.
It’s a shock that my floorboards aren’t worn through by the time a knock calls out. I swing open the door to find my friend’s grinning face. Casey wraps her arms around me without a word, tugging me into a snug embrace.
“Stop stressing,” she mutters into my hair. “It’s bad for the baby.”
I poke her in the ribs. “You’re such a shit.”
She whips out three tests and fans them in front of her face. “What’re the chances you have to pee?”
“Close to bursting.” I snatch one of the boxes and begin speed walking to the bathroom.
Casey is practically tripping on my ankles in her haste to keep up.