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“Everything’s fine,” I say starting to get sulky. “I’ll get a doctor’s appointment on Monday.”
“You better,” she says, returning her eyes to the phone screen. “Those two are talking about you in the kitchen.”
“Hm?” I raise an eyebrow. “What are they saying?”
“They’re talking really quietly, so I don’t know. But I heard your name.”
I shake my head, a resigned smile drawn upon my lips.
“I’ll go find out,” I say. “I’ll let you in on the juicy bits.”
Sophia smiles wide but doesn’t say anything. I then move to the kitchen, and my aunt and mom’s enthusiastic conversations ends as soon as I enter.
“You’re already speaking quietly to keep what you are saying from Sophia, and now you stop speaking altogether to keep it from me?” I ask, amused.
“You’re pregnant, aren’t you?” Gabby spits out, leaving me dumbfounded.
“What? No!” I say, feeling her eyes bore into mime, “I’m careful, okay? No baby on the horizon.”
I take a seat at the table with mom, and she passes a hand through my hair, her face looking concerned and lost in thought.
“You are careful,” she says. “But what about him?”
I get tense. Truth be told, we haven’t worried about using a condom since I’m on the pill, but they don’t need to know that little detail.
“Logan takes care of his business too,” I say, lifting my chin defiantly.
“I was on the pill when I got pregnant with Sophia,” mom says. “Damn it, even Sophia must have learned in school you shouldn’t trust it completely!”
“I doubt he’s using a condom!” Gabby waves a finger at me, then goes back to flipping pancakes and sipping coffee, “Those billionaire types love to have kids!”
I cringe; my mother and my aunt are discussing my sex life and I have nowhere to hide.
“How are you two so sure I’m pregnant?” I demand, both hands over the table.
“Because we know!” they say in unison, much to my chagrin.
“I was never pregnant, but I’ve seen all of my sisters get pregnant,” Gabby says.
“And I’ve had two kids.Two kids, Joy!” She shows me two fingers. “You’re showing all the symptoms.”
Mom stands quietly for a while, and as Gabby places the pile of pancakes on the table, she speaks again, “You’re getting fat, too!”
I snort. Gabby goes to the living room to call Sophia over, and mom and I continue our argument in the kitchen.
“So what if I’m pregnant?” I ask. “I’m well paid; we can afford another mouth!”
I’m asking for validation of my sudden fears, but all mom gives me is a reprimand and mild anger.
“Bringing a child into the world is a big responsibility, Joyce! What if this man doesn’t marry you?”
“Oh, I’m not counting on him marrying me, mom,” I inform her, with all the nonchalance I can muster.
She places a hand over her heart, and looks at me, shocked and horrified, as if I said I killed someone and did not regret it.
“But youaretelling him?” she asks, daring me to answer otherwise.
Trying to summon some courage, I stall, but then a sudden realization hits me.
