Page 83 of One Reckless Night

I hesitated for a moment, weighing the idea of staying cocooned in my cozy blanket against the prospect of stepping outside into the humid Florida air. Clair’s enthusiasm was infectious, though, and I could feel her determination to drag me out of my slump whether I wanted to or not.

“Fine,” I relented, sighing dramatically just to make her laugh. “But if I start feeling nauseous, you’re carrying me back.”

“Deal,” she said with a grin. “Now, let’s pack a picnic.”

We headed to the kitchen, and Clair immediately started pulling open cabinets and the fridge. I grabbed a canvas tote bag from the hook by the fridge and began assembling what I hoped would be stomach-friendly picnic fare.

“Crackers?” Clair asked, holding up a box of saltines with a knowing smirk.

“Yes, crackers,” I said. “And ginger ale. Just in case.”

She laughed but didn’t push it, which I appreciated. Instead, she started slicing vegetables for sandwiches while I spread peanut butter on rice cakes—safe choices that wouldn’t upset my stomach.

“What about fruit?” Clair asked, holding up a bag of grapes she’d found in the fridge.

“Perfect,” I said, adding them to the bag. “And maybe some nuts for protein?”

“I’ve got some cookies at my place we can add,” she said.

Clair basically skipped ahead, her energy pulling me along while I lagged a bit behind. The sand was cool underfoot where the tide had just receded, and the incoming waves were gentle. Almost timid. I tried not to think about how different it might look after the storm.

“See?” Clair called back to me. “Totally worth it.”

I had to admit she was right. People were already gathering, spreading out blankets and tossing frisbees. It seemed the whole campus had the same idea: enjoy one last night before we hunkered down for the end of the world.

We picked a spot close to the water. I sank onto the blanket with a sigh, grateful to be off my feet. Clair was already digging through our makeshift picnic bag when Shawn found us.

“There you are!” he said, plopping down next to me. “Your first pre-hurricane picnic.”

“I got dragged out,” I replied with a mock grumble.

“Good thing,” he said. “You’ll be stuck inside come tomorrow.”

Shawn gestured behind him where more people from the lab were arriving in groups, all bearing coolers and chairs. It wasn’t long before our little picnic grew into something of a full-blown party.

I watched everyone settle in—a mix of faces I knew well and some I didn’t know at all but recognized from around campus.

I tried to relax, to enjoy the moment, but my eyes kept drifting to Jared. He was further down the beach, talking to a group of colleagues. I hadn’t spoken to him since I’d told him I was back at work. I wasn’t sure if I ever would. But seeing him now, his dark hair tousled by the breeze, his expression almost relaxed for once, made my heart hurt.

It hurt to be so close but yet so far. He was the father of my child, and I couldn’t have him. I watched him and wondered if our baby would look like him. If it was a boy, would it have his strong features?

I hoped so.

“Have you thought of a name yet?” Clair asked as she sat down beside me.

“Stop,” I hissed.

She rolled her eyes. “You have to get used to talking about it eventually.”

I knew she was right, but it was hard. Especially when it came to Jared. I’d never imagined going through this alone.

“Hey,” Shawn called over, tossing me a bag of chips. “Got your favorites. Those rice cakes look boring.”

Clair leaned against me with a smirk. “See how loved you are?”

We ate and talked, everyone growing louder with the alcohol flowing. It was easy to get lost in the laughter, even if I was one of the few sober ones.

Thankfully, Jared stayed away from us for most of the afternoon.