Love and Sorrow (Small Town Secrets Book 5), стр. 75
My daughter was healing.
Even things with Justin were on the upswing. Because he rented a storage facility close to my house, I felt like he was definitely okay with the move by now.
But I should have seen it coming. It’s like the universe can sense when things with me and my family are good and it intentionally makes sure to put me in my place.
At least that was what I was thinking on the Monday before Thanksgiving. My periods had always come like clockwork…so when it hadn’t visited by Monday night, I started feeling slightly concerned.
By Wednesday, I was fucking stressed.
I couldn’t be pregnant. I was a shitty mother. I didn’t deserve nor did I want the chance to fuck up another kid’s life.
Maybe it was just late. I’d been really sick lately, and that might have thrown my body out of whack. But there was only one way to be sure. After I picked up the kids up from Noreen’s after work, I asked, “Who wants to make banana splits?”
“No way!” Devon’s eyes grew large.
Even Sarah agreed. “Yeah.”
That was my excuse to swing by the store. After hitting the produce and freezer aisles, we went to the dairy section to grab some whipped cream and then we got to the pharmacy area. It was then that I said, “Oh, guys. We forgot some toppings. Do you want to see if you can find chocolate and—”
“Strawberry and pineapple? We’re on it.” Sarah took Devon’s hand and they zipped back down the aisles while I snuck into the family planning section. Planning? That was a misnomer if I’d ever heard it. Checking after the fact and knowing you’re probably completely fucked is not a plan.
But maybe I’d get lucky.
Quickly, I found a cheap pregnancy test and tucked it in between the bananas and the tub of ice cream—and even grabbed a box of ibuprofen to hide it more. Hopefully, the kids wouldn’t notice. By the time I caught up to them, their arms were loaded down with far more than I’d planned—but plenty to hide my purchase. And just to make sure they wouldn’t look, I gave them a couple of dollars to play the crane machine in the entrance while I paid for everything.
Even better?
Once we got home, they were preoccupied with constructing their sweet treats when I slipped away into the bathroom to pee on the stick.
Except for one thing.
As I was heading to the bathroom, box wrapped in a plastic grocery bag in my hand, Sarah asked, “What’s the special occasion, mom? You never let us eat stuff like this before dinner.”
“Every once in a while, I like to spoil you guys.” And I scooted off to the bathroom quickly before they could question my bullshit answer. In a way, though, it was true. I’d done this sort of thing before as a distraction tactic because it worked. By the time I got back from the bathroom, they’d be in sugary bliss, less likely to notice whatever emotion I’d be experiencing.
After locking the door, I opened the package. Jesus Christ. I hadn’t used one of these in a long time, but it looked like the cheap ones hadn’t changed much. After doublechecking the directions, I sat on the toilet seat and urinated on the stick before waiting the longest sixty seconds of my life.
Staring at one pink line, I gnawed on my lower lip and then leaned against the door, closing my eyes. But when I opened them, a second faint line started to emerge.
Oh, God, no.
I squeezed my eyes shut again, swallowing a pool of saliva in my mouth. Maybe the other line was just a ghost that would go away after a little time passed.
No such luck, though. At the end of sixty seconds, my fate was sealed, sporting two bright pink lines. There was no mistaking what that meant.
I was definitely pregnant. Shit, shit, shit.
Hiding the evidence, I buried the entire kit in the trash can, wrapping it in the grocery bag and covering it with toilet paper. Then I splashed my face with cool water. Until I figured out what to do, I had to pretend everything was normal. I returned to the kitchen and started looking in the fridge, trying to figure out what to make for dinner.
“Mom, aren’t you gonna have a banana split?”
“Maybe later.” I needed to focus. “If you guys want, you can watch something on TV and finish eating those in the living room.”
Sarah raised her eyebrows while Devon voiced what they were both thinking. “You really are spoiling us, mom.”
And now I had to concentrate and come up with a plan. Did I keep the baby or not—and, if I decided against it, would I burden Justin with my choice or keep it to myself?
If I decided to keep the baby…what would I say to him?
Last but not least, if I needed more time for that decision, how could I act like my normal self in the meanwhile?
Unfortunately, by the time Justin was home and we all sat down to dinner, the only thing I’d decided was that I needed to tell him either way. While I was the receptacle, he was the sperm donor and deserved to know. Until then, though, I didn’t trust myself to say much of anything.
Luckily for me, Devon dominated the conversation. It started with a story about his spectacular banana split, followed by the cartoon he and Sarah had watched, and then the video game they’d played till dinner. Although Sarah and Justin talked some, Devon was in charge and I was grateful, because I didn’t have to say shit all throughout dinner, except once in a while to remind Devon