Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 54004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
But… the weight settles like lead in my stomach. I think about my career. Everything I’ve worked for. My whole life, which is really only just beginning. Can I really derail that? With a change as huge as this?
Then again. Look at my marriage, and how badly I thought it would derail me. When in fact, meeting and accidentally marrying John might have been the best decision of my life. If anything, it only improved my life—my whole life, not just the career I’d always been focused on to the point of ignoring the rest of my needs.
“I can hear those wheels of yours churning. What are you thinking?” On the other end, I hear splashes, no doubt as Lea ducks into her shower.
I sigh into the receiver. “I don’t know, Lea. I don’t know what I want to do. I never thought I’d want a family this young—someday, sure, but now? But then, I think about John, about having a family with him specifically, and… I don’t know.”
There’s another long pause, followed by the telltale slosh of bathwater, before Lea’s voice returns closer to the microphone. “Well, take the test. Like I said, no use making plans until you know. And once you do know, you can make an informed decision, with all the facts. Yeah?”
“You’re right.” I tilt my head back to squint up at the blue sky overhead. It’s shaping up to be a beautiful day. Too pretty to be stressing like this, at least until, like she says, I know the truth. “What if I am though?” I murmur. “How the hell am I going to tell him?”
“A card is always nice,” she replies, and I burst into laughter.
“Thanks for the pep talk.”
“Call me with the results?” she asks before I disconnect.
“Of course. Soon as I know.” I hang up and tug my car keys from my pocket, jangling them between my fingers. Time to face the music.
* * *
Well. I should have guessed it.
I squat in the bathroom of the CVS, staring at the test in my fingers. Staring, more specifically, at the thin pink line that marks a sharp and sudden divide in my life. Before and after. As in, before I went and got myself knocked up by my new husband, and after I realized that this already complicated as hell mess is about to get a million times more complicated.
I shoot Lea a text, aware that I promised to call her. But I can’t handle hearing her voice right now. Even my best friend’s reassurances won’t help. Not now.
I shut my eyes and ignore the phone as it buzzes away in my lap. Lea tries twice more before she gives up and texts me back instead.
Never doubt the power of a well-worded card, is all she says, clearly deciding to opt on the side of lighthearted. She knows me too well. She knows that I can’t handle looking at this seriously right now.
But the words draw a laugh out of me anyway, albeit a reluctant one.
Still. It’s not the worst idea. I’m going to have to tell John somehow. And in spite of us deciding that we want to really seriously try to make this marriage work… I’m still not entirely sure how he’s going to handle news like this. News this huge.
I deposit the test in the trash and trudge out to my car, hands tucked into my pockets. Along the way, I stop in the CVS card section and buy a card. I labor and debate over the type—Congratulations? Condolences? Thank you for the baby? Sorry, but guess what?
Finally, I settle on one of the blank cards, the front covered in glitter and flowers. At least it doesn’t have any cheesy pre-written messages inside. I want to write my own, although what exactly I plan to say, I’m still not sure. How do you explain something like this?
I spend the whole drive back to work thinking it over, my brow furrowed. When I get to the office, it’s late—the only parking spot available is pretty far from the front. But that’s fine. It gives me more time to think. I pull into it and shut off the car, then lean my head on the steering wheel, eyes shut, hands gripping the leather, and force my tired brain to think.
Under all my fear and worries, there’s an undercurrent of emotion I can’t ignore. An undercurrent of… happiness. Because that’s how I feel when I’m with John. And if that’s how I feel with him, just the two of us, then how much happier will I feel when it’s three of us? When we have a family. When our marriage becomes indisputably, permanently, real.
Finally, the right words come to me. I pull the card out and prop it on the dashboard, starting to write.