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Annabelle
When Declan came into our room to kiss me goodbye Monday morning, the smell of his body wash made me need to jump out of bed and pray I made it to the toilet in time to vomit. And even after the way I treated him last night, he still held my hair and got me a damp wash cloth before asking me to go to the doctor today to see if I had the flu.
I managed to wait until after he left to have the complete freak-out I knew was coming and decided maybe I needed to see the gynecologist after all.
By the time I got Tommy to school, I’d calmed down enough to pick up a pregnancy test before heading back home. Being a whorish charity case apparently isn’t enough for me. No, I’m an overachiever.
I need to be a pregnant whorish charity case.
Three pink boxes, two plus signs, two sets of pink lines, and two damn sticks that read “pregnant” later, I cried my way through begging Katherine’s ob-gyn’s office to fit me in today. Fortunately, when I dropped her name, they were able to squeeze me in before noon.
Now, here I sit, in a waiting room full of pregnant women, waiting.
God, I fucking hate waiting.
My eyes close as I tip my head back against the wall and try not to cry. But at least this explains why everything has been making me emotional lately.
I have no clue how I’m going to tell Declan.
I have even less of a clue how he’s going to respond.
After the way I treated him last night, I don’t even know how I deserve for him to respond.
Just as my thoughts start to spiral out of control, my name is called, and it’s time to pull up my big girl panties.
I hold back more tears when I think about how big my panties will be soon.
Huge.
My panties are going to be huge.
Like circus-tent huge!
Twins.
Goddamn Sinclair genes.
I’m nearly ten-weeks pregnant with twins.
He knocked me up the very first night we were together.
Their beautiful little heartbeats were fast and strong and loud as they bounced off the walls in the tiny exam room. My doctor checked me over thoroughly and told me my IUD must have fallen out at some point. He reassured me that it’s not common, but it does happen, and it has no effect on the babies.
Babies. Plural.
I’m going to have babies.
We’re going to have babies.
Two.
When my SUV passes by Hart & Soul, I want to cry again at my once-beautiful dance studio that’s now a crime scene, yellow police tape and all. Instead, I pull into Sweet Temptations for my daily caffein fix. A Pumpkin Spice coffee is just what the doctor ordered. And maybe a donut... or ten.
When I walk through the door, I thank God that the smell of double-stuffed, vanilla cream-filled donuts makes my mouth water instead of gag. I take in the room, seeing an older woman sitting alone in a Queen Anne electric-blue chair. I’m guessing she’s with the gentleman ahead of me in line who’s ordering two coffees and two muffins. Other than that, the place is empty.
When the older gentleman gets his coffees and bag of sweets, he turns and smiles at me on his way back to his companion. Good grief, that coffee smells good. Yes. Give me a big old cup of... FUCK!
“Hey, Annabelle. The regular?” Amelia smiles at me while she turns to make my coffee.
