Swear (Landry Family 4)

Violet grins at Heath. “Is it possible . . . ?”

Heath laughs. “Oh, you know it’s possible, and if it’s not, she doesn’t deserve him!”

“What in the hell are you two talking about?” I say, scooting up on the pillow so I’m sitting.

Heath bends forward, his eyes shining. “Has it ever crossed your mind that you’re pregnant?”

The vomit is back now in full force. “No,” I say loudly. “I’m not pregnant.”

My mouth goes dry as the acid in my stomach that was quelled just a few seconds ago is now churning like a volcano ready to erupt. I can’t be pregnant. I mean, I can. I could be. Technically. But I can’t. Not really. That would just . . .

“Hey,” Violet says, her hand resting on my shins. “One thought at a time.”

“I have the flu, guys,” I insist. “It’s what my dad has. I probably caught it from him or the girls in the bakery this week. I mean, I . . .”

Breathing takes effort as what feels like the entire room caves in on me. There’s a franticness that I can’t control, a slew of reminders of feeling this way once before hitting me in waves.

“I’m going to be sick.” I leap up, holding my stomach, and race to the bathroom. As I spill the last few drinks of water into the toilet, I add in a few salty tears.

Violet takes my hair and pulls it to the side, her other hand rubbing small circles on my back. After I’m sure I’m done heaving, I look at her and laugh. It’s a sad, terrified sound, more like a crazy person than her best friend.

The wall is cool as I lean on it. Violet sits beside me on the bathroom floor. She doesn’t offer me advice or direction or tell me to get up and deal with whatever it is. We just sit there looking at the light blue wall.

“I have the flu,” I mutter. My mouth tastes like bile and it almost makes me get sick again. My face feels swollen, puffy, and I really wish that was my biggest concern. Laughing, I look at Vi. “Funny how things put other things in perspective. Now I just wish I was worried Ford might stop by and I’d look like shit.”

I look down at my stomach. It looks the same. But is it still the same? Or is it quietly harboring a secret I didn’t know?

Forcing a swallow, I look at Violet. She’s watching me patiently, the side of her lip starting to curve upward.

“I’m afraid to really consider this is a possibility,” I admit.

The room might be spinning. I find a toothbrush sticking out of the holder on the sink and focus on that to keep from falling over.

A series of emotions tumbles through me, and I don’t know which to grab on to.

“Breathe, Ellie,” Violet whispers.

“It’s harder than you think.” I blow out a shaky breath and refill my lungs. “I’m not ready for this. I mean, if that’s what it is.”

“It might just be the flu.”

“Maybe. I hope so.” Timidly, I rest my hand on my stomach. All I can feel is the gurgle from the acid that threatens to expel, but I close my eyes anyway.

Déjà vu strikes me hard in the feels. I was terrified then. I knew in my soul that I was too young to do it properly, to do it the way my mom did it. I was terrified then. But I may be more scared now.

Would I be ready for this now? Would I be ready to take on all the changes a baby would require? I’ve been telling Ford I’m not in a place to do those things and I don’t feel like I am.

I want to follow through the promises I made to my mother—to see things and do things and live a life that’s more than she did. If I have a child, I . . .

“I’m gonna be sick.” I heave again into the toilet, the tile floor biting into my knees. Violet kneels beside me and it occurs to me that in the moment I might find out I’m going to be a mother, I need mothering. Certainly this is evidence of failure on

my part.

Taking the washcloth offered me, I wipe my mouth and rock back on my heels. “I need to know. I probably have some virus and this is all for nothing. But I need to know.”

Violet nods. “Heath ran to the pharmacy on the corner.”

“You’re kidding me.”