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“Oh, don’t,” I moaned when Con appeared in the doorway, his eyes heavy with sleep, the lower half of his face shadowed with stubble. Looking way too good to see me looking my worst.
Ignoring my protestations, he crossed the tile to the sink and wet a washcloth. Squatting down beside me, he pressed it to my forehead. The cool water sank into my hairline, drip dropped down my cheeks, but it made me feel better. No less embarrassed, but better.
“Do you think it was the fish?” he asked with a frown.
I shrugged weakly. “Maybe, but we had the same thing.”
When I was sure I wasn’t going to throw up again, he helped me back to bed. “I’ll tell Angie you called out sick,” he said, pulling the covers up around me. “Stay home today. Feel better.”
Home. I wondered if he had any idea how many directions that one word sent my mind spinning off into. I’d barely been back to Halley’s condo in the last few weeks, but I was still careful not to call the penthouse home. The idea of it made me feel warm inside though. Coming home to Con at the end of every day.
While he showered and got ready for work, I curled up with the idea. Built it up. Luxuriated in the fantasy of it. By the time he was ready to go, the nausea that had sunk into my guts like a fishhook and dragged me to the toilet was a distant memory.
“I feel like I could go to work,” I said. “I’ll just be a little late.”
Con leaned over the bed, pushing me back gently against the pillows. “Take a day, Lily. I have happy hour after work with the guys, but I’ll leave early.”
After he left, I padded happily around the penthouse wearing the t-shirt he’d slept in. It smelled like him and was so big on me it was like a sleep shirt. After I ate and was sure the nausea wasn’t going to make a triumphant return, I called my mom. I hadn’t talked to her in a while.
“Hi stranger,” she said when she picked up. Her voice was filled with delight and not a hint of recrimination for how long it had been. “Shouldn’t you be at work?”
I glanced at the clock. Too early for a lunch hour. “I’m taking a sick day. It was the weirdest thing. I woke up sick, threw up, and then felt fine.”
“That does sound weird,” she agreed. “Maybe you’re pregnant.” She laughed when she said it, so sure it wasn’t even a remote possibility. She knew I’d never slept with any of the serious boyfriends I’d had in college, and I hadn’t even told her I was seeing someone in the city.
While she laughed, my blood ran cold, then a hot flush rose into my cheeks. The breath evaporated from my lungs, leaving me gasping. I couldn’t have faked a laugh if I’d wanted to.
“Lily? Are you there?” her voice sobered. “I was just kidding, honey. I know you’re waiting for the right one.”
She was worried she’d offended me. I managed to draw in enough air to reassure her. “Sorry, mom. I’m just–I’m feeling sick again. Can I call you back?”
After we hung up, I threw on a pair of jeans and wore Con’s t-shirt to the pharmacy down the street. I bought a pack of condoms and a two-pack of pregnancy tests and was grateful that the cashier didn’t have anything funny to say about it.
Then I raced back to the penthouse, my heart beating wildly. My whole life might be about to change, and I had no idea how I felt about it.
