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In fact, if our situations were reversed, I probably would have told her to be wary, too. After all, Brandon is two decades my senior, and he’s my ex’s father. I get it. I remind myself that she just doesn’t know my boyfriend, and doesn’t see how spectacular he is.
Maybe we can go on a double-date sometime, I think, and grin. I’m not sure how Brandon would feel about double-dating with his son’s classmates. But who knows? He’s an open-minded guy and maybe it would be fun.
I chop some walnuts to add into the bread along with the chocolate chips. Admittedly, it has been nice to tell Sarah because finally, someone knows my secret. It’s hard to live life on the downlow, and frankly, I’m not very good at being sneaky. A few times, my parents have commented on how happy I seem lately, but I’ve just told them that I’m glad to be free of Jasper and left it at that. That seems to have satisfied Midge and Frank for now at least.
But maybe it’s time for them to know, I muse. Brandon may be older, and I’m sure my parents will have a thing or two to say about him being my ex-boyfriend’s father. But ultimately, Brandon can charm anyone, and is such a charismatic presence that he’s difficult to dislike. I think, too, that my parents would just be happy that I’m so happy.
Throwing everything into the stand mixer, I turn it on and stand back to admire my work so far. I feel like a housewife, I think, and grin at the image. This is pure domestic bliss, and I can’t wait for the day when Brandon gets off work and calls out, “Honey, I’m home!” upon stepping into the foyer. The thought makes me warm happily.
But after a moment, I pause and think twice. Yes, Brandon and I have spoken about starting a family someday, but when? Will he really be willing to marry me and begin having babies after I graduate in a few short months?
As I put the banana bread in the oven, I resolve to talk to him about these things soon. Sarah is right. I need to put concrete words to my expectations, even if it’s uncomfortable. It’s often easier for me to stay silent on difficult topics, hoping that they’ll just naturally resolve themselves. But this is my life, and my future with the man I love. It’s important to know where we stand.
I check my phone when the loaf is finished baking, and it’s about 5:30. Perfect. It should be safe to head over to Brandon’s to surprise him with this sweet treat. Even better, Jasper’s on the prom committee this year, and I know he has a meeting tonight, so I’m confident he won’t be there. The last thing I need is an awkward run-in with my ex. He’s the one person who definitely doesn’t need to know about my relationship with Brandon.
I grab a cardigan to head out the door and then realize that I’m not feeling very well. A wave of nausea hits me suddenly, and I fling out my arm to lean against the wall for support. I make a face, panting heavily. I don’t get sick very often and can’t even remember the last time I threw up. Ugh! I hope I don’t have food poisoning.
Slowly, I make my way to the bathroom and sit on the floor in front of the toilet. Racking my brain, I try to think of anything I ate yesterday that could have done a number on me, but I come up empty-handed. I’ve heard of a bug going around, but I scan my body and don’t notice any other symptoms. The only other thing, I suppose, is that my breasts feel unusually heavy…
Wait a second, I think.
I immediately seize my phone and Google “pregnancy symptoms.” Nausea. Tender breasts. Missed period. Increased urination. Fatigue. I try to think of when I last had my period, and realize with a jolt that I don’t remember. I’m not particularly fatigued, and I don’t think I’ve been peeing more than usual, but I’m unable to ignore this nausea. The sensitivity in my breasts has been going on for a few days, but I didn’t think anything of it.
I swallow hard, trying not to panic, or to get too excited, and decide to call my voice of reason.
Sarah picks up on the first ring. “What’s up, bestie? Are you okay?”
Leaning my head against the bathroom wall, I laugh a little. “Why do you ask?”
“You hate phone calls!” she replies in a knowing voice. “I know you’d text me about anything unless it was an emergency.”
“Well,” I rub my arms, which are covered in goosebumps. “I, um, need your advice.”
“Shoot.”
I take a deep breath.
“I’m really nauseous and my boobs have been feeling kind of extra heavy for a few days.”
