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But her words haunt me. I didn’t realize how scared she is of losing me. But it makes sense—after losing her father, I’m the only one she has left.
I took her to see a therapist after David died and she had a few sessions before the therapist told me she was doing fine, handling the death well. Now, I wonder if I shouldn’t take her to see someone again.
Dianne pops into my mind, but I push the thought away immediately. I’m still upset with Dianne. I’m not scheduled to see her again until next week, but I don’t know if I’ll go. I’m considering canceling.
I pull out of the parking spot and head back home. When I get home, I throw up again. I’m relieved I didn’t throw up in the car.
After making ginger tea, I walk to the bedroom. I went through so much ginger when I was pregnant with Kylie. The nausea brings back memories, and they’re bittersweet. I get in bed and I think back to when I was pregnant with her.
David and I were so excited. I had almost every pregnancy symptom in the book, and I was nauseous the entire nine months I was pregnant. But I didn’t care—we wanted her, and it was what I had to go through to get her.
I fall asleep. I don’t sleep well, but I don’t dream.
When I wake up, my stomach turns and rolls again and a lump in my throat makes it harder to breathe. I’m on the verge of tears.
Someone knocks on the door and I realize it’s what woke me up in the first place. I glance at the time with a frown—it’s eleven in the morning and there’s no reason for anyone to think I’m at home. When I check my phone, I have no calls from the office or from Kylie’s school. Sam tried to call me a couple of times.
I put down my phone again and lay back on the pillows, closing my eyes. But the knocking starts up again.
I groan. Whoever is out there knows I’m here and won’t let up. It wouldn’t be Mason, would it? After his behavior yesterday, I don’t know what to think. When I saw him, I was nervous about being pregnant. Not that he would know unless I told him, but there was suddenly this secret I had and I had no idea how to talk to him about it. And then his outburst about Sam…nothing made sense. It was so unlike him.
I put the roses in the kitchen sink just as they are, with a bit of water so they don’t wilt but I don’t actually know what to do with them. I don’t want to throw them away because they’re beautiful and I’m sure he got them for me with good intentions. But he acted weird and I don’t just want to put them on display.
When the knocking becomes urgent, I pull a robe around my shoulders and walk to the front door. When I open, it’s Sam.
“What are you doing here?” I ask. “It’s the middle of the day.”
“I know,” Sam says and he looks like he’s on the verge of falling apart. “But I needed to talk to someone and you’re the only one who understands. I went to your office and they said you called in sick.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. I don’t have the energy for any of this right now. I feel like I’m coming undone at the seams myself. But I won’t just turn him away.
“What happened?” I ask.
“I sent the invite out,” he says. “And Mom already had a shit fit about Ben being there.”
I shake my head and step aside. If this is how it starts, I’m going to need more ginger tea.
We walk to the kitchen. Sam follows me, telling me how he sent out the invite for the event we were planning and how he told his parents that Ben has to be there since he can’t leave out his partner. Not when the whole event hinges on their investment together.
“You said it like that?” I ask.
“How else was I supposed to say it?”
“No, I mean, you’re not lying. But they don’t want you to be involved with him. At all. And once you make your announcement, it might not be as simple as you thought, despite it being public.”
Sam nods, looking dejected.
“I know. I just don’t know what to do. This is such a big deal. I mean, it’s my future. And Mom and Dad just won’t allow me to be happy. If this is where I choose to invest my time and energy, shouldn’t they be happy for me?”
“I think they will be once they understand what you’re doing,” I say. “What can I make you?”
Sam thinks about it. While he does, my stomach rolls. I’m going to throw up soon.
“Will you excuse me?” I ask.
“Do you have peppermint tea?” Sam asks. “I’ll put on the kettle while you—”
He doesn’t have time to finish his sentence. I can’t hold it and throw up right there in the kitchen. I’m quick enough to make it to the sink, but that’s it.
