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I remember that time. It’s when Nonna didn’t have much patience, and neither did any of the help. One even chuckled at me and threatened to have me checked out at a hospital. Fun times.
I watch the tea steam encircle my face as I think about Joaquin and Adam with another woman. Makes my heartburn. But I have goals, and I can’t put them on pause to scratch a “let’s have a family” itch. Families are hard work, and since I was born into one, what is the point of starting one? So I can later regret all the goals I failed to complete because I’ll be too busy changing a diaper.
My tummy bubbles up. I think I’ve probably caught something. I hope it’s not food poisoning. Everything we ate yesterday was cooked by Sheryl, the cook. It was all delicious, and Grandma seemed just fine.
I excuse myself to use the potty, but by the time I get there, I’m spitting up in my hand. I lift the toilet lid and release tea and tiny remnants from last night’s dinner. Nausea. Maybe it’s peppermint tea? But, deep down, I doubt it.
“Grandma, I’m going to lie down. I’m not feeling too well.”
She gives me a questionable look and then scans me from head to toe.
“He didn’t plant anything in you. Did he?”
My cheeks turn red as I realize what Nonna’s teasing me about. There’s no way that’s the case. I’ve been on birth control for two months now, and…
Wait.
“No, Nonna.”
“Well, I’ll be out back twiddling in my garden.”
“Ok.”
When I get to my room, I remove my phone from the charger and google how long it takes for the pill to be effective after usage. It’s not helpful that my head is groggy, and I only want to lie down and close my eyes. Apparently, it depends on which birth control pills you take. Something to do with progestin-only and when you start them during your menstrual cycle and a whole heap of endless information that Google offers.
There’s no hope in traveling down the rabbit hole when your eyelids are suddenly heavy enough to scream them shut. It’s nearly two hours later when my bladder peels my eyes open. I scurry to the bathroom, and before I exit, I already have a fresh, clean face and the will to head to the closest convenience store. I only alert the house manager, Pearl, that I’ll return shortly. I’d rather save myself from hearing Nonna toss another worry my way. Geeze, and to think she had me thinking about Evergreen forever. Well, it’s been Joaquin who has me thinking about a forever Evergreen. Whenever I’m around him, the purity of the moment is so raw and honest that it’s hard to imagine the tug my heart will fill when I say my goodbyes in a couple of months.
I have time to get all sappy about that, but first, I want to see if I’m carrying a little Joaquin. Yikes, the idea of it is too overwhelming to truly consider. It almost feels like I’m buying the pregnancy test for someone else. A loud wet belch is heard over my shoulder when I hear the cashier ring it up. It sounds slimy and intentional. Grateful I’m rocking a baseball cap and knowing that I’m not familiar with many people in this town, I turn to take a look.
Oh, no. It’s the sleazy bartender, Isaac, who was trying all kinds of tricks to get me to take a shot. His stone blue eyes feel like razors as they cut at me sideways in wild judgment.
“I can’t forget a pair of lips like yours!” He mutters loudly. I want to bury my face in my hands, but instead, I shove my debit card in the cardholder and pray the cashier will hurry up and push my test into a bag.
She gives me a puzzling look after the asshole speaks to me. I wonder if she feels sorry for me since this idiot behind me is taunting me or if she’s thinking something foul. Why would he make a comment that could insinuate we had something going on?
“I don’t know you, sir,” I exclaim.
“California girl may be a mommy, huh?”
My blood boils. If I were designed differently, I’d turn around and knock him across his face. The audacity for him to be concerned with whatever I’m buying. And, then, to speak on it.
“Got it! No wonder why you didn’t take a shot. Been about a few weeks, huh?”
The back of my neck tickles. I snatch the bag off the counter and nearly yank the receipt out of the cashier’s hand.
As if my hormones weren’t already raging, I turn around and belt a large, “Fuck you!”
The bartender and his sloppy wet man-bun wiggles in shock. I contain myself from laughter as I notice the woman behind the bartender slaps her hand across her face in astonishment.
I storm out of the store and hop in my Jeep. My blood is racing, and I have a strong urge to pee once again. I make myself hold it all the way back to Nonna’s house. The black steel gate can’t open fast enough for me. As soon as I hop out of the Jeep, which I leave in front, I promise Pearl I’ll move it. But first, I have to pee, and I might as well pee on the stick.
I rush into the hallway bathroom before the stairs. I tear the box open as I prance on my tiptoes, praying my pee doesn’t leave me sooner than it needs to. My stick is out and ready when I sit on the porcelain throne.
Once finished, I’m unsure if I’m more relieved that I peed on the stick successfully or finally peed. I set the pregnancy test on the side table, holding a sarcastic potty etiquette book. I skim through the book and laugh at a few statements while checking my phone once every half a second to watch the time. I refuse to glance at the stick until the time is ready.
I’m curious about what Grandma is thinking. I hold back the desire to reach out to Hannah, my best friend, and fill her in on this crazy possibility. And there’s no point in making her go crazy by theorizing all the “what ifs.” I’ll save her that energy until I know myself.
I also contemplate getting a manicure with Nonna, but the alarm on my phone scares the thought right out of me. My heart jumps, and I wipe my eyes with the padding of my palms before I pick up the stick.
