Fall to You (Here and Now 2)

Watching Lizzy read the texts is like seeing them for the first time all over again. “I didn’t tell anyone back then because I was afraid Max would lose the grant for his club.”

“So you remembered this and went to see Nate?”

I nod. “It seemed like the logical choice at the time.” A moth has taken up residence outside the window, and I watch its fluttering wings.

I’ve felt strangely calm since Liz told me about Mom’s heart attack. The same calm I felt when I saw my father unconscious in our backyard. It was like my brain put all of my emotions to the side until I did what needed to be done—call 911, check his pulse, start CPR. T

riage. Nothing is real during triage. Nothing can hurt you because you’re operating like a machine, going on to the next necessary task and the next.

With Dad, it wasn’t until later that it all hit me. After the ambulance pulled away, my father already pronounced dead. After my mother collapsed and we had to call the doctor to get her a sedative. After my sisters clung to each other and cried. Only after did the emotions hit—the fear, the anger, the terror. And finally, the soul-ripping grief. I’m still waiting for the news of Mom’s heart attack to hit me, but right now, I’m still numb.

“So are you two an item now?” Liz asks. “You and Nate?”

The sound of his name makes my heart ache. “We were never together. Not really. It wasn’t supposed to be more than a fling. The night we met, he was very upfront about what he could and couldn’t offer me.” I exhale slowly. “Whatever it was between us is over now anyway. We said goodbye.”

She stirs her coffee. “So…you’re staying with Max?”

I shake my head. “How can I?”

Of course, now there’s the question of my pregnancy, but I’m not ready to tell Liz about that until I know for sure. Could Nix be right? I can’t help but hold out hope for the lab mix-up.

When our food comes, we eat in silence. Lizzy takes mercy on me and doesn’t ask any questions.

We’re both exhausted, worried about Mom, and emotionally spent. But when we leave the restaurant, Liz drives to the drugstore instead of my bakery.

“Come in with me?” she asks.

I nod and follow her into the store, where she heads straight to the back and stops in front of the pregnancy tests. “A one- or two-pack?”

My breath catches. “I’m not pregnant,” I object, but the words sound weak even to my ears.

“I’m your twin,” she says quietly. “I can sense these things. Have you taken a test yet?”

“Nix said that the blood work…” I shake my head. “It can’t be true. She’s wrong.”

She takes my hand and squeezes. “It’s going to be okay.”

My eyes fill. How is it that four weeks ago I woke up to my dream life and every day it becomes more of a nightmare? “What am I going to do if I am, Liz?”

“Don’t borrow trouble. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

We pay for the tests and head back to the restrooms. Lizzy tears open the box, hands me a stick, and slips the other one in my purse.

“For emergencies,” she says with a half-smile.

I almost laugh, but it doesn’t quite make it from my lips. “Are there directions?” I ask, frowning at the test.

“It’s a pregnancy test, not rocket science. Pee on it and wait”—she looks at the box—“two minutes. One line is negative. Two lines is…”

“A problem.”

“We’re going to figure this out, Han. Okay?”

I swallow, but I can’t agree. I don’t see how this is going to be all right.

Lizzy squeezes my hand then nudges me toward the stall.

My hands are shaking as I hold the stick between my legs. I don’t look at it as I set it on the back of the toilet, just sink to a ball on the floor and wait for it to process.