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Lottie:We might want to cancel. I haven’t been feeling so great the last few days. Wouldn’t want you to get sick.
My finger hoversover the message thread with Anson, and I bite my lip. I’ve given up on reaching him, but I can’t stop rereading our latest messages. It’s like I love torturing myself.
My phone rings with a FaceTime call, and I force a smile to my face as I answer my brother’s call.
“Hey! How are you doing?” I ask him.
I’ve learned to beat him to the punch in our last few calls. I need to direct the conversation; otherwise Rhett will bring up Anson, and then I have to really work to avoid that subject.
“Good. How about you? You look a little pale,” Rhett says, concern etched all over his face.
“Yeah, I think that I might have the flu or something. I was just about to take a nap, actually,” I tell him, and he nods.
“Is Anson taking care of you?”
My stomach drops, and I feel like throwing up again.
“Yeah, he just ran to get me some Gatorade,” I lie, and Rhett nods.
“I haven’t been able to get ahold of him,” he says, and I swallow hard.
“Yeah, his phone is messed up. I think it might still be turned off or something from his deployment.”
“Well, tell him to call the store and get his phone unfrozen so I can call him.”
“I will.”
There I go. Another lie. I’m really on a roll here.
I hate lying to my brother. He’s the only family I have and he means the world to me. We’ve always been honest with each other, even when it was hard, but I just can’t tell him what happened. Not right now.
I’ve been telling myself that it’s because I’m worried about him being stressed or distracted while he’s over there, but really, I just don’t know how to broach the subject or what to even say.
“Well, feel better soon, okay? I’m going out tomorrow so I’ll be out of range for a few days,” he tells me.
“Be safe.”
“You know I will.”
I swallow, fighting off another round of tears. I’m scared for my brother, worried that something bad will happen. I’m relieved that I won’t have to answer any more questions about Anson for a few days, and thinking that just makes me feel guilty.
“Get some rest, Lot. I’ll talk to you in a few days.”
“Thanks. Be safe. Good luck.”
I give him a watery smile, and he waves, looking worried and grim as we end the call. I close my eyes, rubbing my forehead, and my phone dings with a new message.
Goldie:I hate to say this, but have you thought about taking a pregnancy test?
Lottie: What?
Goldie: I mean, it could just be stress or whatever but with the timing of everything…
She doesn’t finishthat sentence, but she doesn’t need to.
Lottie:Fuck.
Goldie: Yep.
