Thirty-five and Single

“Corey brought you in,” she says, frowning. “Thankfully, he managed to get his shoes off.”

I groan. “Tell him I’m sorry.”

She pats my arm with her free hand. “Don’t worry, honey. He’s good.”

Then my stomach rolls and I shoot out of the bed, down the hall and manage to shut the bathroom door before I’m tossing my cookies.

Just when I think it might be over, Amelia bangs on the bathroom door and I heave more.

“Just a minute,” I call out a second later with more strength than I feel.

I hadn’t realized that I locked the door.

When she barges into the small room, that thought is gone.

Her eyes widen when she finds the state I’m in. She checks my head.

“You don’t have a fever. How long have you been feeling this way?”

“A couple of days,” I admit.

“We can rule out food poisoning then unless, of course, you ate something shady lately.”

The mention of food sends me dry heaving into the toilet.

“How long has this been going on?” she hurriedly asks when my gagging subsides.

“I don’t know. All day, yesterday…”

“You’ve been puking that long? You may be dehydrated.”

I shake my head, which creates another wave of nausea.

“What do you think caused it?” she asks with an arch of her eyebrow.

“I don’t know. When Corey opened the door, all these smells hit me at once.”

She nods like she’s figured it out. “So you are nauseous?” I nod. “Give me a minute.”

She darts out of the room with me calling after her, but she doesn’t answer me. When she returns, she has a box with her.

I groan, having expected something else.

“I thought you would bring me Pedialyte.” She swears by it. Then I take a look at what she’s brought me. “You have these lying around?” I ask and she shrugs.

“Darren and I are trying for another one.” My eyes surely pop out of their sockets. My sister has three rugrats already. “Just pee on the stick, and let’s see what it says.”

“There’s no way. Ask Corey. Besides, it’s not morning.”

She gives me a knowing look. “Just humor me.”

After she leaves, I take my time and read the instructions. I don’t want her to be convinced I did something wrong when it comes back negative.

As I follow the directions, I pray I don’t vomit again on the stick before I finish. I put the cap on the pee stick end, and then I sit and wait, not sure what I want the verdict to be.

“Have you done it?” Amelia asks.

When I call back, “Yes,” she finds it amusing to hum the Jeopardy! final question theme while we wait.

“I’m so going to slug you.”

She doesn’t answer until the theme is over.

“So?” she asks, assuming enough time has passed.

I glance down and close my eyes for a second.

“I’m pregnant,” I say more to myself than her.

Chapter Twenty-Four

“Can you give me a minute?” I say to Amelia.

She nods and closes the door behind her. Unabated tears leak from my eyes. For something I’d wanted more than anything, I’m confused about how to feel about this unexpected gift. This is something I’d wanted so much with Corey, I can’t wrap my head around Joel being the unknowing father. We hadn’t used protection because I’d assumed that pregnancy was an impossibility without help.

At least I know why I’ve been so emotional lately.

I’m not given much time before there’s a light knock at the door.

“Can you give me a few more minutes?” I beg.

The door opens a crack anyway.

“I wanted to make sure you’re okay,” Corey says, peeking in.

I nod and wave him in. He walks in and takes a seat on the lip of the tub.

I’ve known him long enough to realize he isn’t going anywhere. I push the door closed with my foot from my position on the floor, something I might have been grossed out over if I didn’t know Amelia was a super clean freak.

His eyes drop to my lap where I hold the test.

“You’re pregnant,” he says with the barest of smiles on his lips.

My heart breaks staring into his eyes. “You knew,” I say.

He looks away and a wave of disappointment and anger fills me.

“I knew it was a possibility,” he admits.

“So it was all a lie?”

I think about all the things he’d said to me.

His eyes stay on a fixed point on the floor as he speaks.

“They told me I have a very low sperm count.”

“You lied?” I again fire back.

He’d told me that his test had come back fine.

Finally, he looks at me. “I was ashamed. I mean, how could I tell the woman I loved more than anything that I couldn’t give her what she wanted.”

“What we wanted, or was that a lie too?”

I’m vibrating with anger, but I manage to keep my voice low so the whole house doesn’t hear the rage brewing inside me.