Page 322 of One More Time

My head was spinning as I waited for the damn timer to go off, and when it did, I almost jumped out of my skin. I was apparently wound a bit too tight. I reached for the stick and stared at it for a long time before it made sense to me, even though the test was one of those that merely spelled it out for you – ‘pregnant or not pregnant’. There were no lines to read, no guessing whether there were one or two lines. It literally told me what I'd needed to know in one simple word.

In this case, it said Pregnant.

“I'm pregnant,” I whispered to myself.

I stared down at my mostly flat tummy and had a hard time imagining that there was a life growing inside of me. Aside from the nausea I'd just had, I'd felt okay. I didn't have an ongoing case of morning sickness or any other symptoms, really. I'd never kept track of my period before, never had to, but as I sat there and thought back, I realized that maybe I was actually late.

Because I was pregnant. The results were positive. “Holy shit,” I said to myself, sitting on the closed toilet seat.

My hands were shaking so badly, it looked like I had palsy or something, as I reached for my phone. I typed out several messages to Malcolm, only to erase them and try again, doing my best to find the right words.

After about my thirtieth attempt to draft an appropriate text, I realized that I couldn't tell him the news over text. No, I'd have to tell him face to face. And honestly, I couldn't wait to see the look in his eyes. I decided to send a simple enough message.

Hey there

Yes, after nearly twenty minutes of agonizing over each and every word I thought about sending, that was all I'd sent. I sat there and waited for a response. Nothing came for a long time, and I realized it was early. Maybe too early. He could still be asleep. I convinced myself that he probably was still asleep.

But, then I realized how ridiculous that was. It was seven in the morning, who was I kidding? Malcolm was not sleeping. He was already up and about. He was an early bird, which meant that maybe, he was on his way to work. Yeah, that had to be it. That seemed like the most reasonable explanation.

I kept waiting for some response though, anything at all. About half an hour later, my phone buzzed, and I jumped out of my skin. My heart racing and my hands trembling, I picked up my phone and looked at his message.

Hey there, Casey. Sorry, been busy. How are you?

Uhhh, pregnant with your child? That's how I am. Not that I could have typed that out. I settled for something less dramatic.

I'm good. Think we can get together tonight?

Waiting was the worst. I needed to see him, to speak with him in person. This was news that had to be delivered in person. Anything else would just be wrong. My heart was beating out of my chest and I felt like I could throw up at any minute.

I kept staring at my phone. Waiting. And waiting some more. He took forever to get back to me. Again. Maybe I should have called instead. Finally, another message came through.

Can't tonight. Family dinner. Can I call you later?

My heart sunk as I read the words. I'd never felt more alone than I did in that moment. I was pregnant, freaked out emotional, and didn't want to settle for a phone call. This was not news that could or should be delivered in an email, over the phone, or in a text. The only right way to tell somebody they were going to be a father was when you were looking them in the eye.

Not sure what else I could do though, I told him it was fine and put my phone away.

Tears, fat and warm, rolled down my cheeks. I wasn't even sure why I was crying, except for the fact that I felt emotional and scared. What if Malcolm had changed his mind about wanting a baby? Or that his feelings for me had changed somewhere along the line.

Maybe, that was why he'd asked to slow things down if we weren't pregnant. If that was the case, what in the hell was I going to do then? I couldn't force him to raise the child – not if he didn't want to raise it. If he didn't want to take the baby after it was born, there was nothing I could do about it.

The other side of that coin was that I wasn't capable of raising it on my own. There was no way I could do it, not with so many responsibilities already heaped on my plate. The idea of an abortion, one of the only other realistic options I could consider, made me cry even harder.

I couldn't explain it, but as soon as I'd found out there was a life inside of me, I loved that baby. My heart swelled when I thought about it and I wanted the best for the baby. I also knew that unless Malcolm went through with the plan, and did as he said he'd do, I was not going to be able to raise a child on my own. Which was problematic in so many ways.

More than that though, I wanted to know what sort of life could I expect for my child, even if Malcolm did end up wanting him or her? Would he be a good father? Or would he be an absentee father? Would he actually raise a child, or let nannies do it for him?

So many questions, and all of them without an answer. All I knew was there was no way I'd get an answer over the phone. I needed to see him in person. I needed to ask him these questions face to face and see what kind of answers he had for me.

As I thought about it, and the questions swirled around my head, a dark, ominous feeling washed over me. What if he wasn't going to let me in? If he refused to see me, what could I do?

Then an idea hit me. Hard. It probably wasn't the best idea I'd ever had, but it was, at least, a way in. A family dinner. Just like the one Adam had invited me to before. It might piss off Malcolm, but I saw no way around it. If he wasn't going to return my texts and wasn't going to see me, what else could I do?

I grabbed hold of my purse and dropped it in my lap, digging around until I found the card Adam had given me at their office. His cell phone number was listed on it, and before I could give it any more thought – which would more than likely result in me stopping myself from going on with this foolish plan – I'd already texted him.

Adam, it's Casey. Does the offer still stand to meet the family?

I bit my nail, my stomach churning – and not because of the pregnancy – as I waited for a response. His answer came within two seconds, flat.

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