I have a few days. No need to panic now.
I trade the Sour Patch Kids for water, wondering if this sore throat is from throwing up or is indicative of getting sick. Stressing out for several days usually leads me to getting a cold, and I’ve definitely been stressed.
“Hey, lady,” Marissa says as she steps into my office. “Do you want to go to lunch early today? I’m starving.”
Knowing I should eat something more than crackers and Sour Patch Kids at some point today, I close the baby website I was looking at before Marissa has a chance to see. “Sure. Where do you want to go?”
“Wherever has the shortest wait,” she says with a smile. “We can try that new Mexican place that opened a few weeks ago. It’s supposed to be really good.”
“Yeah, sounds good. We can head out now.”
“Perfect!”
I push my rolling chair back and stand, getting hit with dizziness. I grab my desk to steady myself, hoping Marissa doesn’t notice. She’s looking at something on her phone, thankfully. I grab my candy and follow her into the lobby. Rene comes out from behind her desk and almost runs into me.
“Oh, sorry,” she says, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. She’s mad at me still because she thinks I stole Archer from her and doesn’t think I’m good enough to be a ‘doctor’s wife.’ I know this because she writes and sends emails to her sister on the company server.
“It’s okay.” I smile politely, wondering what kind of things I’ll read when word gets out Archer’s baby is growing inside of me.
It’s hot and humid today, typical for summer by the lake. Marissa and I walk to the restaurant and get seated pretty quickly.
“Want to order a pitcher of margaritas?” Marissa asks, looking over the menu.
Shit.
“Nah, go ahead and get one though.”
Marissa puts down the menu. “They have strawberry. I know how much you love those. Oh, and it’s half price!”
“I shouldn’t drink at work.”
Marissa isn’t one to pressure me, but she knows it’s weird. I don’t drink at work when we have functions, but I usually get a drink with lunch. Especially half-priced strawberry margaritas.
She’s going to find out soon enough. I might as well tell her now.
“I can’t drink.”
Marissa gives me a blank stare. “Are you sick?”
“Not exactly.”
“Quinn,” she begs when I don’t say anything more. “What is going on?”
I close my eyes, not wanting to see her face when I say it. “I’m pregnant.”
She bursts out laughing. “No fucking way,” she says when she sees I’m serious. “Are you sure?”
“I took two tests at home and got a blood test at the OB office yesterday. I’m sure.”
“Who is the fath—oh my God. It’s Archer, isn’t it? He’s the only person you’ve had sex with recently unless you had another dirty weekend with someone else and didn’t tell me.”
“It is him.”
“Oh my God. He’s your brother’s friend! Are they even on speaking terms?”
“They’re great. Nothing’s changed. Because we haven’t told him yet. We haven’t told anyone yet. You’re the first person to know.”
“That makes me feel all sorts of special, but what the hell are you going to do?”
I shake my head. “I know I’m having it, I already decided that.”
“What about Archer? How’s he handling all this?”
“Better than me,” I say with a sigh. “He wants to talk about the future and all that responsible stuff.”
“And you don’t?”
I shake my head. “I know I have to. It’s just…” I trail off, becoming emotional. “That tends to happen when I think about it. Sorry.”
Marissa reaches out and takes my hand. “Don’t be sorry, Quinn. I’d be a blubbering mess if I were in your shoes. Not that what you’re going through is bad, because it’s, uh, not.”
“It’s bad.”
Marissa squeezes my hand. “Do you think you’ll get together with Archer?”
I sigh and lean back, grabbing a chip. “I don’t know. I don’t want him to be with me just because I’m pregnant.”
“Yeah, that doesn’t always work out.”
I break the chip in half and let out a breath. “It wouldn’t feel right. I want whoever I’m with to love me, you know?”
“Oh, totally.” Marissa gives me a sympathetic smile. “Whatever you need, Quinn, I’m here. You’re my best friend.”
“Thanks. Don’t tell anyone yet.”
“My lips are sealed.”
“It feels good saying this out loud. I’ve known since Sunday morning and haven’t told anyone. Well, besides Archer. He was with me when I took the tests. We want to put off telling my family for as long as possible.”
“That’s going to be one interesting conversation.”
“You’re not mad I didn’t tell you sooner?”
“Not at all. Archer is your brother’s best friend,” she repeats, not having to explain for me to know what she’s thinking. This is going to cause so many problems, not just between Archer and Dean.
Archer’s not the only one who crossed a line. I knew exactly what I was doing, and facing my family and telling them the truth is going to be one of the hardest things I’ll ever do.
I wake up Wednesday morning with a headache. There’s no question about it now: I’m sick. All the cold medications in my cabinet say they’re not safe if you’re pregnant. I take an extra-long shower, trying to clear my head so I can breathe, and feel a little better.
Until I throw up.
Slumping to the bathroom floor, I can’t help the tears. I’m alone, scared, and feel like total crap. I want to call my mom and have her comfort me. Neville comes over instead, rubbing his head against me.
“Hey, buddy,” I say quietly, stroking his sleek fur. He jumps into my lap, purring, and I close my eyes and lean against the wall. My phone rings and Neville jumps away when I start to get up.
Thinking it might be Mom and she somehow felt through the universe I need her, I apprehensively look at the name on the screen. It was bad enough lying to Marissa for a day. There’s no way I can lie to my own mother. But it’s not her. I slowly get to my feet and answer the phone.
“Hello,” I say to Archer.
“Hey. How are you feeling?”
“I just threw up again.”
“I’m so sorry, Quinn,” he says, and I can tell he feels it. “There’s medication you can take to help with that. I can write a prescription for you.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose and close my eyes. “I read some mixed things online about it not being good for the baby.”
“It seems at this point you need it. Being dehydrated isn’t good for the baby either.”
“I don’t think I’m dehydrated.”
“You said your blood pressure was low. Are you still dizzy?”
“It is low, and yes, I am. The nurse said it was all normal.”
Archer isn’t convinced. “Can you send me your lab results? Did they check you for dehydration?”
“Archer,” I say, not sure if his concern is endearing or annoying. “The nurse said everything came back normal for pregnancy when I talked to her on the phone. Being dizzy and having morning sickness just comes with it.”
“But that was a few days ago. Things can change fast. Maybe you should go in again and have more labs drawn.”
Yep. His concern is annoying.
“And even if you’re not dehydrated, I don’t want you to feel sick all the time. It makes it hard to enjoy anything if you’re on the verge of throwing up. You’re going through enough and I…I want you to be happy, even though I know it’s hard right now.”
Well, maybe a little endearing.
“I know,” I sigh.