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“Wait, when?! And, are you sure?!”
“He proposed this morning and, Al, I haven’t had my period for like two months.”
“Well, you’ve been safe and everything right?”
“Yeah, I mean we use condoms, but condoms break!” I squeak. I take a deep breath,
“And, uh, we got a little carried away in Berlin last summer,” I admit.
“Okay, okay. Um, here. First of all: Congratulations, and dibs on being your maid of honor. Second: where are you?”
“I’m still in the parking lot at the Gateway Club. I finished work like half an hour ago, had a panic attack, and called you.”
“Classic. Okay, I’ll be there in ten and then we’re gonna get you a pregnancy test, okay?”
“Okay,” I say.
My voice comes out small. I’m terrified, not because I don’t want kids, but because I can’t think of a bigger change in my lifethan suddenly being engaged and pregnant within twenty-four hours.
Ten minutes later, Allison pulls into the parking lot in her beat-up Chevy Impala. She honks the horn.
“Get in you goof, let’s go see if you’re pregnant. Aunt Al has a nice ring to it.”
I smile at that and get out of my car, hopping into the passenger seat. I’m too anxious to drive right now.
Allison hugs me and hands me a bottle of water. “Drink up, you’re going to need it.” I open the water bottle and Allison takes the opportunity to admire my ring.
“It’s perfect for you,” she says.
“I know,” I say.
I don’t know why, but suddenly I’m crying as I realize how completely Vince understands me. There’s no one else in this world I’d rather have a kid with, but I’m still terrified.
“Why are you crying?”
“I don’t know. I—" I hiccup, “I know Vince will be supportive and excited and all of that but, we talked about having kids in the next couple of years, not months!”
“Well, that’s true, but you know as well as I do that things rarely happen when we plan them.”
“But I love to plan!” I wail as we pull into the parking lot of the pharmacy.
“I know you do. That kid is going to be incredibly organized,” Alison notes.
She unlocks her car and offers me her hand. I let her hold it as we walked into the pharmacy. Together, we find the pregnancy tests and grab a couple.
“Do you think brands make a difference?” I ask.
“Nah, I mean they’re all … doing the same thing, hopefully,” Allison says.
With those words of encouragement, I pay for three and the pharmacist gives me a nod. When we’re back in Allison’s car, we pause.
“Now what?” she says.
“Well, I should take one.”
“Should we go to my place or yours?” Allison asks.
My time in my studio apartment didn’t last long, I moved with Vince last winter after realizing that between touring and the amount of time I was spending at Vince’s, I was losing money. I found a fantastic subletter: an older woman hoping to live out her retirement days by the ocean.
