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We scrabble off her couch, jam on our flip-flops, and run out the door. With my hair a rats nest from the humidity and hers on top of her head in a messy bun, we look like complete and total train wrecks as we run to the corner store.
“Which one should I buy,” I ask, confused at all the varieties of at-home preggers tests stacked on the shelf. “Words, or symbols?” I hold them up for her inspection.
“All of them,” she answers, nodding. “We need all of them.”
To call it awkward when the elderly gentleman at the register rings up fifteen home pregnancy tests would be a gross understatement. “We just want to be sure,” I blurt out loudly, for him and anyone else that may be interested. Once we get back to Amber’s apartment, the shit really hits the fan––and winds up all over me.
“Did you check the expiration date on that one?” We’re both crowded into her tiny bathroom, ten positive tests lined up on her sink.
“I’m pretty sure they’re not all expired,” the wise ass also known as my best friend says.
“Now is not the time for sarcasm!” My emotions go back and forth violently from ecstatic to scared shitless like someone’s playing an aggressive game of ping pong with my heart. I can’t settle on one. “What do I do?” Amber stares back blankly. For once, she’s speechless. “Now is not the time for you to be quiet!”
“I’m thinking you need to tell your baby daddy.”
Ughhhhh, just the sound of that makes me want to hurl. I walk out of the bathroom and into her bedroom, falling face down on the bed. She’s right behind me, pressing her case. “I don’t see what the drama’s about. It’s not the first time a professional athlete’s knocked up his girlfriend…and you’re a couple of months shy of dirty thirty one. Not like you two are under age pups.”
“You don’t understand,” I moan. How do I explain to her that Cal had a vasectomy specifically to avoid something like this from happening? Good grief, the man has atomic sperm. How the heck does one get knocked up by a man who’s had a vasectomy?!! I make a mental note to Google this miracle ASAP. I can’t decide if I’m the luckiest lady on the planet, or arguably the unluckiest. Matt and I went the last couple of years without protection and nothing happened…I suddenly realize that the thought of Matt doesn’t hurt anymore. His memory has settled in a place inside of me that I can look at without feeling pain or guilt or anger. All I feel is warmth and love.
My elation at this discovery lasts for all of a nanosecond. As soon as my mind shoots back to Cal, fear fills my gut. I have no idea how I’m going to tell him, and it’s pretty obvious that this news won’t be celebrated as it should.
It’s early evening and I’m busy scanning job sites on Amber’s computer when Justin walks out of her bedroom, grabs a bottle of water from the fridge, and bids me farewell. This is a mystery I have yet to solve. Justin has been coming over at least a few times a week in the last month. They never go out. He just comes over, they disappear into her bedroom, and then––nothing. Total silence. Not a peep, except for hushed whispers. I mean, what the hell are they doing in there? Playing Scrabble? ‘Cause if there is any sexy time, it’s certainly not vigorous. I haven’t broached the subject yet with my little blonde friend, though the time is fast approaching.
There’s a heavy pounding at the door and Amber comes flying out of her room fully dressed. “He’s here.”
That didn’t take long. He must’ve realized I wasn’t at my parents’ place anymore. If he doesn’t stop pounding on the steel front door, I’m pretty sure one of Amber’s nosy neighbors will call the cops. I can see the breaking news now…
Super Bowl MVP is arrested for stalking baby momma. Gets karate chopped in the balls by spunky best friend.
“Want me to get rid of him for you?” she says with a creepy, gleeful look in her eyes. Nnnnnnoooo. I definitely cannot unleash Amber on him––yet.
“I have to deal with this. It’s time. The stubborn ass won’t stop until I do.”
“You need to tell him before he finds out some other way.”
Just the thought has me hyperventilating. “I’m scared.”
“I know.” She grabs my hand and squeezes. “I’m here for you.”
I jerk open the front door to find him standing there with his hand hanging in the air. He’s so frigging handsome––it’s just so unfair. How did I ever think he was pretty? Or cold? That’s love for you.
“Did I just see Harper leaving?” he asks with a puzzled frown.
