Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
“Ditto, Dad.”
“So…” My dad pauses long enough to plop back down on my sofa and grab a few Doritos from the open bag. “What’s new in your world, sweetheart?” he asks, popping one chip into his mouth.
And it’s that very question that makes my entire world spin so hard, the nauseous feeling I’ve had all day becomes so strong that I can’t ignore it.
“Not much,” I say through gritted teeth. “Uh…just gonna run to the bathroom real quick. Be right back.”
“Can we turn the music back on?”
“Yes!” I call over my shoulder as I jog into the bathroom connected to my bedroom.
And for the first time in my life, as I’m throwing up all that orange juice I made myself drink at Walgreens, I’m thankful that my dad likes to listen to his music at rock-concert-style levels.
Led Zeppelin drowns out my vomit noises, and I can hear my parents loudly laugh and chat with each other as I hurl a few more times.
By the time my puking session is finished, I wash my hands, brush my teeth, and stare at myself in the mirror, wondering how in the hell I’m going to spend a weekend with my parents and Gran after having six pregnancy tests tell me that I’m knocked up with Mack’s baby.
Now might be a good time to find an OB doctor who has Saturday hours…
Saturday, April 23rd
Mack
I haven’t heard from Katy since yesterday, and it was brief at that. Just a short text telling me she wasn’t feeling well and that she’d call me later.
But the entire rest of the day and night passed without any call.
I’m trying not to worry, but I’ve already attempted to call her twice this morning without an answer.
I’m supposed to have another investors’ meeting with Thatch and the guys this morning at George’s for breakfast, but I can’t bring myself to go there without at least stopping by Katy’s place first. Her apartment isn’t on the way to the Financial District, but I don’t care. I even leave an extra hour early just to give myself enough time.
Her building is only one subway stop and a two-block walk away from my place, and I manage it at record-breaking speed.
When I walk into her building, I offer Terry, her doorman, a friendly wave. He’s busy talking to a man with a Pomeranian on a leash, but since I’ve been here so many times in the past month we’re on a first-name basis, he doesn’t hesitate to give me an approving nod as I head to the elevators.
But just as I’m taking a step toward the next available cart as it opens its doors, the woman I came here for is walking off it.
“Katy?”
She stops on a dime, and her expression is a combination of outright surprise and kid-who-just-got-caught-with-their-hand-in-the-cookie-jar. And she’s not put-together like she normally prefers when she goes out. Her hair is in a messy bun, and she’s currently wearing sweatpants and a hooded jacket.
“Uh…hi,” she says, but her voice matches her odd appearance. It’s all off, and if I weren’t standing right in front of her, I’d question if the words even came from her mouth. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to check on you.”
“Oh.”
Oh?
“You never called me yesterday, and I wanted to make sure you were okay,” I explain and step closer to her. The instant the scent of her familiar flowery perfume hits my nose, the urge to hug her becomes too strong to resist. “Babe, I was worried about you,” I whisper into her hair. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she answers and ends the hug with a pointed step away from me. “I’m just…kind of in a rush right now.”
“Are you going somewhere?”
“Yeah…” She pauses again and stares down at her sandal-covered feet. “I…uh…have somewhere I need to be.”
“Where are you going?”
“I just have somewhere to be,” she repeats her earlier explanation, which is no explanation at all.
“What’s going on, Katy?”
“What do you mean?” she tosses back, her voice snapping softly like the edge of a barely jerked whip.
I don’t know what’s going on, but I certainly don’t like the feeling I have standing here with a Katy I can’t even recognize. She’s flighty and nervous and makes me feel like she wants to be anywhere but next to me. Hell, back when she couldn’t stand me, she’d at least make eye contact with me.
But right now, her eyes look every which way but at my face.
“Katy…you’re acting strange.”
“I’m acting strange because you stopped by unannounced, and I don’t have time to sit here and chat because I have somewhere I need to be.” She is on the defensive, which is crazy, because I didn’t realize we were in a battle.
“Let me get this straight…you’re pissed at me for stopping by?”
“A little heads-up would’ve been nice.”
“I tried to call you three times this morning. You didn’t answer,” I counter. “Kinda hard to tell you anything when you don’t pick up the phone.”