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She appears well-rested and tired at the same time. This duality is daunting, and it’s got to be this “thing” she has to tell me that’s got her this way.
“Did you eat not too long ago?”
“Flora made me a fabulous omelet.” Sadie bats her eyes as if to brag.
I remember Flora when I was a kid. Many people talked about her and her mother. Her mother was rumored to cast spells on cheating husbands and supposedly sliced the hand off of a pedophile. I would share this with Sadie, but I’m too anxious. I want her to tell me already. Why is she stalling? I don’t want to assume anything because it’s usually the opposite. Still, I’m guessing she wants to talk about our relationship. God, I hope she’s not trying to close the book.
“She’s a perfect example of not judging a book by its cover. She looks textbook creepy, but she’s absolute magic,” Sadie says.
I smile and sip my own coffee. “So… what’s up?”
Her green eyes grow dark, and she pulls back from me, settling into the booth.
“Hi! Are you two ready to order?”
Great timing for the waitress to pop back up. She literally has a pen in her bun. I want to laugh, but instead, we put in our orders, and I can’t hand her the menu back any faster.
“I’ll put that right in.”
She nods and scurries away, probably after feeling me mentally repelling her from our table.
I settle my eyes back on Sadie as she sips her water.
“Freddy… I’m pregnant.”
Dear God. Did she say what I thought she said? I’m not going to ask because she really did say those words. I think my mouth is hanging open, and the intensity in Sadie’s eyes is wild as she feverishly studies any physical reaction from me.
My armpits are heavy with perspiration, and I wish I could find one word other than ‘overwhelmed’ to label myself with.
“It is yours.” She says this as if she needs to.
I nod and instantly hop up from my side of the booth to slide over to hers. I place her hands into mine and hold them between our laps. A tear droplet lands on my wrist, and I look up and quickly kiss her moist eyelid.
“When did you find out?”
“I can’t remember. It’s a blur, a few days ago or a week,” she murmurs as my thumb caresses hers.
“Do you know how far along you are?”
“No. Well, I can guess. I think it happened on our first night together. I remember smelling you on me.”
The flashback of that night gives me goosebumps. I remember it precisely. I fell asleep inside of her. I can see why she was fertile then. Her hormones were raging that weekend. I could guess how she was teasing me in front of the bonfire and the kiss she gave me in front of Courtney. She was knee-deep in ovulation, horny and ready. Hot damn, this thought turns me on.
“That was seven weeks ago.”
“I can’t believe it. Labor Day is Monday already.”
She can’t believe that? I can’t believe she’s pregnant. I’m surprised I’m not speechless, yet proud I haven’t freaked out. I should probably be freaked out, and I can’t lie: I feel it’s necessary. I’m sure Sadie knows what she’s going to do.
“Have you any plans?” I ask, hoping I sound sensitive enough as I try to wrangle my emotions.
“For Labor Day?” Appalled, she gives me bug eyes.
“No…the baby.” I practically whisper, “baby.”
She pulls her hands from mine and reaches for her napkin. Lightly she coughs inside it and stares across the room as if the answer is somewhere there. And maybe it is because I notice she’s staring at a sleeping baby in its car seat. Its mother and father eat quietly, cracking smiles and talking between bites.
“I…want to create a life where I can hold onto myself…and the baby and…you, if I can.”
