Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 92930 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92930 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
“I love you, baby. Thank you for understanding.”
“I love you, too.”
I kept the phone at my ear even though he’d hung up. I was disappointed for sure, but I understood. At least, we’d have a rare Saturday together tomorrow.
The five minutes had long expired, but I was dilly-dallying, pretending to read an article on home schooling. Now that Jake wasn’t coming home anytime soon, the thought of being alone, wallowing in the results of another disappointing test seemed dreadful.
After several minutes, I threw the magazine aside, forced myself up and walked into my dark bedroom.
The door to the bathroom creaked as I slowly turned the knob. I took a deep breath and shut my eyelids tightly before looking at the test.
I opened my eyes to two pink lines.
***
Holding the three positive sticks in my hand, I paced the bedroom unsure of what to do with myself. I’d taken the other tests in the kit just to be sure. I was most definitely pregnant.
Bursting with excitement, I jumped up and down and waved my hands in the air, feeling like a fool. It seemed surreal after all this time. I had seriously given up all hope. Jake and I were very sexually active, so to not get knocked up even once in over seven years made me certain there was a real problem.
I’d heard of this type of thing happening, though. Just when people were ready to start fertility treatments or adopt, they’d miraculously get pregnant.
I had to think of a creative way to tell him. He was going to be ecstatic! My heart felt like it was going to explode just thinking about his reaction.
I decided to place the tests inside an elongated metallic gold jewelry box. After removing the diamond tennis bracelet that Jake had bought me for our one year anniversary, I tucked it away in a drawer and replaced it with the three sticks. I’d pretend it was a present that I’d bought him for supporting me through nursing school. He’d think it was a watch and freak out when he saw what was really inside.
This was going to be so freaking awesome.
I needed to make this a special evening when he came home. I placed the box in my purse and wasted no time venturing into the kitchen. Searching the cupboards, I made sure we had all the ingredients for Bananas Foster.
Bananas, butter, brown sugar, rum…
If ever a night to celebrate with Jake’s favorite dessert, tonight was it.
Just as I placed two sticks of butter in the pot, my phone started to ring. It was him.
“Jake?”
“Hey, baby. Listen—”
“Please tell me you’re calling to say you’re on your way home.”
“I’m at the hospital. When I got to the group home, she’d already been admitted.”
“Is she alright?”
“Yeah. They found her trying to climb the roof again. What a fucking nightmare. They’re going to release her tomorrow.”
“Okay…so what does this mean?”
“It was going to mean I’d be running later than I thought. But I just heard they closed the road to all non-emergency vehicles due to black ice. I was looking out the window earlier, and cars were spinning out into each other. It was apocalyptic.”
“So, what are you saying?”
“I’m saying I might have to spend the night here unless they open the road. I swear, I feel like I have the worst fucking luck sometimes.”
He wasn’t coming home.
I was silent, but a tear fell down my cheek. I didn’t want him to be able to tell that I was crying.
Deep down, I knew this wasn’t his fault, but I couldn’t seem to control my reaction.
“Nina? Are you alright?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
“Just be careful,” I said.
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
I pressed the red end call button and slid the phone across the counter. I didn’t even know where my anger was directed. I just knew I couldn’t seem to calm down over this. To make matters worse, the butter I’d been heating for the dessert had completely burned.
“Shit!”
I shut off the flames and angrily threw the hot pot into the sink, splattering the butter everywhere.
The sound of my inner ear ringing amidst the deafening quiet was torturous.
I forced myself to go straight to bed and began to obsess about everything. My fears got the best of me as concern about my emotional state grew. The “what if” monster started to take control of my thoughts.
What if I’m a basket case for the next nine months?
What if I get postpartum depression again?
What if Jake can’t handle my issues this time, and it ruins us?
What if Jake is still attracted to Ivy? (That was an oldie but goodie that always seemed to creep in at my worst.)
Then, the “what if” questions turned to “whys.”
Why do I have to share my husband?
Why can’t we just be a normal family?
Why can’t he walk home? (That one made no sense because of the blizzard, and he was on the other side of the city, but I wasn’t thinking rationally tonight.)