Where?
Me
My condo.
Sommer
On my way.
I slip my phone into my pocket and walk to the kitchen. I’m hungry, but I’m not sure I could keep anything down right now. I didn’t eat too much earlier today, thanks to feeling queasy from the moment I woke up until I had a strawberry-banana smoothie and a blueberry muffin from the coffee shop. Even after the queasiness subsided, in the back of my mind, I knew what the cause was, so when I had a break just after lunchtime, I went down to the diner and ordered some chicken and dumpling soup and a grilled cheese sandwich.
Now, that food has worn off and I really need to eat again. However, my nerves over the impending conversation have me holding off on reheating leftovers or finding something quick and easy in the freezer. Instead, I open a sleeve of saltine crackers and grab the jar of peanut butter from the pantry. I’mslathering a scoop of peanut butter onto my third cracker when my front door opens.
“I brought a first aid kit and a bottle of vodka,” Sommer declares, practically sprinting into the kitchen and giving me a once-over. “Okay, well, I don’t see hemorrhaging, so I shouldn’t need this, right?” she asks, holding up the kit.
“No,” I reply, chewing the cracker.
“Okay, good, because I’m not a big fan of blood.” She sets it on my counter. “Vodka it is.”
“Uhh,” I mutter, running my hand over the top of my head and adjusting my ponytail. “Stop.”
Sommer looks over at me, hand in my cabinet as she was preparing to retrieve glasses.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “I can’t drink.”
“What? I know you’re not a huge fan of vodka, but I was out of tequila. It’s okay though because we’ll mix it with lemonade and it’ll be f?—”
“No, Sommer,” I blurt out, cutting her off. “Ican’tdrink. At least not for nine months,” I whisper.
She looks confused for a few seconds but then gets what I’m saying. “Oh shit.”
“Yeah,” I reply, tears filling my eyes once more.
Spinning around, she grabs my hand and pulls me toward the kitchen table. “You’re…pregnant?”
I nod. “Took a test right before I messaged you.”
“Well, I mean, it could be a false positive,” she says weakly.
“Yeah, but the word pregnant appeared on the test in under a minute. I’m pretty sure that’s telling. Plus, I’ve been so tired lately and my boobs hurt. Not to mention I was really nauseous this morning.”
“How late are you?”
“Four days.”
“Wow. Is it…”
“Yeah, it’s his. He’s the only one…”
She nods in understanding. “What now?”
“I don’t know, Sommer,” I reply softly, closing my eyes and trying to picture the next steps.
“Well, I’m here for you,” she assures me, reaching across the table and squeezing my hand.
I look up, meeting her gaze. “I have to tell him.”
“Yeah,” she replies with a small grin. “But there’s no hurry, you know.”
