Page 67 of Fight from the Heart

“Yes,” I admit. “But it’s not up to me.”

“He’s getting help for you.”

I huff a laugh. “He’s getting help for himself, and that’s how it should be. You should understand where he’s coming from.” It’s a reminder that Ella needed months to figure herself out before she came back to Ethan. Not that I expect Jacob to return to me, but he’s getting the help he needs for him.

“It still sucks, but he’s going to better, Pam. You wait and see. He’s going to be a better man when he comes back to you.”

“Ella,” I drone. I can’t hear these things. He isn’t coming back to me. He has Mandi and a baby. “I really need to go.”

“Listen,” she grinds the word in frustration. “If there’s anything he’d say to you, it’s don’t quit. You’ve told him to listen to his heart. What is yours saying to you? That’s the advice you gave me once, and everything in mine told me to come back to Ethan. What held my heart lived here in this town. It’s the same for Jacob.”

How I wish that were true, but I’ve had a taste of New York. Its ups and downs, and bright lights and big city fits the chaos of Jacob’s life. While our small town has been a retreat for him, this isn’t his home. It’s a place to escape to write and think, and I imagine he’ll sell it once he finishes treatment.

“I really need to go, Ella. I’ll see you Thursday,” I remind her, at the weekly family get-together where I’ll permanently remain the token single lady at the table.

Chapter 24

Thirty-Day Grace Period

[Pam]

The next thirty days pass in in a blur as I throw myself into work. The weather heats up a bit, but is temperamental like the Midwest can be. Daffodils, hyacinth, and pansies bloom, and the garden center begins to buzz. It’s almost May, and the lilacs will begin to bloom soon. The thought of them opening up and fragrancing our place curls my stomach. I don’t want the reminder of Jacob’s nickname for me. I’m hopeful he’s getting the help he needs, and I silently wish him well as each day passes. Unfortunately, I am sick. This time it’s a stomach bug I couldn’t shake.

“Did you throw up again?” Mae admonishes as I exit the bathroom, swiping at my lips. Once I vomit, I feel better, and sometimes I’m even hungry afterward.

“I think I drank too much last night,” I lie, as I didn’t drink a thing with my family during our weekly ritual at the Tavern. I haven’t had the desire for anything stronger than water lately and soda. All the cherry cola in the world sounds delicious to me, along with the tuna fish sandwich on Mae’s desk.

“Are you going to eat that?” I ask like a woman desperate when I see she hasn’t put her lunch in the fridge yet.

Mae’s nose scrunches. “You just got sick, and you want a tuna fish sandwich for breakfast? Are you . . .”

Crazy resonates through my thoughts, and I’m starting to think I am. I’m having strange dreams that make me restless, and I wake exhausted. It’s like all I want to do is sleep, and I fight the urge, telling myself I will not fall into depression over Jacob’s absence. I’ve missed him as I imagined, and I imagine I miss him because he’s been my focus for two and a half years. It’s been a non-relationship relationship where I’ve devoted myself to being faithful to him for no reason.

“Pam,” Mae says louder, snapping me out of my head. “Are you pregnant?”

“Hell no,” I immediately react, blinking at her like she’s a little off her rocker. Her eyes focus on me, holding me with her questioning gaze, which shifts to concern.

“No.” The single word is a wisp of air between us. “I can’t be.”

“How can’t you be?” she questions.

“We . . .” My voice trails. I lower for my desk chair, still staring up at her, counting the days from my last period.

“The last time I had my period was the beginning of February,” I murmur, speaking to myself, but Mae hears me. Jacob had been on vacation, so it was before Valentine’s Day. Then I was sick and the snowstorm, and . . .

“But we used a condom.” I look up at Mae, my voice filled with my own question. How could this have happened? We’d used protection. He used condoms, and I was on the pill, but I’d been sick and taking medication, and oh my God.

My hand hits my forehead. “I’m on the pill, but I’d been sick the week before Jacob and I . . . and I was taking medicine to help with the flu.” Plus, I’d been at Jacob’s for those days I was ill and then again during the unexpected snowstorm. I’d been so inconsistent for almost two weeks.

Mae slowly smiles at me.

“Oh my God,” I mutter, covering my mouth as I stare at my friend. “This can’t be.”

It was only one night.

“I think it might be, and there’s only one way to find out.” Excitement grows in my friend’s face, but I’m failing to find any emotion. I’m numb. I’m stunned. I have no idea what I’ll do, but the uncertainty quickly passes to possibility. I’d have a baby. I’d raise the baby. I’d be a mother.

I’d be so happy.