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I haven’t fixed an appointment with my doctor because I don’t want anything seeming to become real. Could there be a possibility, a slight chance in hell, that I might have kind of miscalculated my cycle and had sex with Harrison that first time on a danger day? Or maybe it wasn’t my calculations. Maybe, my body decided to pull a fast one on me.
Oh, God.
Okay.
Relax, Charlee. Don’t be a coward.
I’m going to have to face my fears now. I have to pee on the stick.
My headset is still sending those soothing sounds to my ears, and normally, the rhythm would flow through my entire body, sending peace and dispelling negative energy. Right now, that’s not exactly happening.
Taking my robe off, I hang it on the wall.
The stick is already out, staring at me menacingly.
Twenty seconds later, I’m standing at the sink, watching it.
One line means negative.
Two lines mean positive.
So, why, just why has the universe punished me so that a second line actually starts appearing on my stick?
Oh, no!
I can’t believe it yet. The denial is powerfully solid, so I go ahead and get the other three different brands of pregnancy tests I bought. Taking time to pee on all of them again, the results are all the same.
One even showed a plus sign.
My hands start shaking as I back into the door and slide down to the floor. Dragging my knees up, I assume that safe-keeping position I used to turn to as a young child terrified of rainstorms.
This has to be the biggest rainstorm of my life so far and I do not know how to weather it. I can’t breathe. My ears are pounding. My heart is racing.
I’m pregnant with Harrison Bridges’ baby.
The most emotionally unstable man I know. Why is this happening to me? Would he even want to acknowledge a love child?
There’s still a bit of denial left. Maybe the sticks are all wrong. I call my doctor’s office and try to book a quick appointment. Luckily, she had a last minute cancelation today so she has an opening.
Later, as I lie on that table with cold ultrasound gel splattered over my stomach and the probe moving about, Dr. Henderson doesn’t know whether to smile or not as she gives me the gist.
“Congratulations, Charlee. You’re about six weeks pregnant. Look at that tiny embryo coming out nicely…”
Her voice trails off as she observes the look on my face. I’m entirely sure there’s no more blood left in my veins. She knows I’m not married, so this is definitely not what I wanted.
Thirty minutes later and with my pre-natal vitamins and next appointment scheduled, I show up at Tess’s house.
I can’t do this alone, not right now.
Tess opens the door to welcome me. “Charleeeee! Girl, it’s been forever. How are…”
My face must really be ghost-like, because why is everyone trailing off when speaking to me?
Tess grabs my shoulders. “Charlee, what’s wrong? Are you all right?”
I force a smile. I don’t want to start talking in the living room in case Roscoe’s nearby. His official car is not in the driveway, but I don’t want to take chances. Her son is napping upstairs, so we have some free time.
“I’m good, Tess. We need to talk.”
