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Ryan knew nothing about running a restaurant and he was the last person I wanted to see anyway, so I called in a much more capable option. “Devon, do you think you can fill in for me tonight?”
An hour later, Devon strolled into the restaurant wearing a deep blue three piece suit, complete with pocket square and socks that matched his tie. “Oh Pippa, you look terrible. Sorry.”
“Don’t be, I feel even worse than I look.” It wasn’t uncommon to pick up every seasonal sickness that came into the restaurant, especially when I worked too many hours and didn’t get enough fuel. “Payroll is done. The specials need to be printed up and posted online. I left a list beside the keyboard.”
“Consider it all taken care of. Get some rest and let me know how you feel in the morning.”
I smiled, grateful for his kindness and willingness to fill in on such short notice. “Thank you, Devon. I owe you one.”
I made my way home in a fog of sickness, not quite sure how I made it to the right place without getting into an accident. I kicked the door closed and shed my shoes and clothes on my way to the sofa, where I stayed for the next two hours. Or more.
Sometime later a knock sounded on the door and Valona strolled in. “Hey honey, word around town is that you’re not feeling well.”
“Is that the kind of gossip that’s going around these days? Pathetic,” I joked to ease my best friend’s worry.
“No, but Devon called to let me know you looked like death warmed over. His words, not mine.”
I had to laugh at that. “Compared to Devon, I always look terrible.”
“Right? I always feel more like a hobo than a hippie when he’s around.” She took one look at me and her brows furrowed with worry. “Oh Pippa, you don’t look good at all.”
“Well, there goes my dreams of breaking into the fashion industry as a middle aged supermodel.”
Val went into mommy mode, pressing the back of her hand to my forehead and then a cheek. “You’re hot, but not feverish.”
“It’s probably just the flu. I didn’t eat this morning and I feel rundown.” I stared at the bag she set on the coffee table. “What’s all that?”
Val flashed a proud smile. “It’s the best friend Sick Starter Pack. Vegetable stew, ginger ale, sourdough bread fresh from the bakery, chocolate and bourbon. And a pregnancy test.”
I groaned at her upbeat words and turned onto my side. “I’ll take a double shot of bourbon, please and thank you.”
“First the test,” she insisted firmly. “And then food. After the test results, we can talk about the bourbon.”
“Val.” I’m not ashamed to say that I whined like a little girl. “I’m sick, not pregnant. I haven’t had sex in ages until recently, and it wasn’t even that long ago for this,” I pointed at myself, “to be pregnancy symptoms.”
Valona took a seat on the sliver of sofa beside me and laughed. “Do I need to remind you that it only takes one time to make a baby?”
“No, smartass.”
She laughed again and gently rubbed my arm. “Then let me remind you that Gatlinburg was almost two months ago.”
Two months. I sat up too fast and dropped back down just as quickly. “No, it can’t be.” Had it really been that long? “Can it?”
“It can, and it has been, so drink some water and take this to the bathroom.”
I did as I was instructed, mostly to shut Valona up. I wasn’t pregnant. I couldn’t be. “It’s your money to waste, but I really wish you wouldn’t have.”
“It’s still a possibility, unless you’ve already gone through menopause?”
“I haven’t,” I sighed reluctantly. “But come on, Val. This is ridiculous. I’ll be forty-one in a few months. I am not pregnant.”
Valona pushed me towards the downstairs bathroom and shoved a bottle of water in my hand. “Then pee on the stick to ease my mind. When it tells you what you already seem to know, we’ll gorge on chocolate and bourbon and you can tell me how ridiculous I can be. Deal?”
“Fine,” I grumbled and closed the bathroom door, but once inside I didn’t feel as confident as I had just a moment before. I stared at the offensive box for several long minutes. I couldn’t be pregnant. What kind of forty year old woman got pregnant from a one night stand with her high school sweetheart? Not me. Definitely not me. To prove it, I chugged down the entire bottle of water and took both tests. I set the timer and joined Val in the living room. “Sourdough me, please.”
“You gonna be all right, honey?”
“I’ll be fine Val, because I’m not pregnant.”
She laughed and shook her head like I was one of her twins. “Why are you sleeping with Ryan if you hate him?”
