by Harloe Rae
I gasp while reading his words. My heart leaps with newfound excitement.
Me: Really?
SBM: Guess so. They might let me leave the confines of my home without a tail of agents following behind.
Me: That’s freaking amazeballs. When can I see you?
SBM: Slow down, sweetheart. My total freedom hasn’t been reinstated.
Me: Yet.
SMB: You’ll be the first to know after they give me the green light. Stay tuned.
I’m already squealing at the possibility of seeing him. With a whoop, I toss my phone in the air and watch it land on the pile of pillows beside me. Almost immediately after it makes contact, the device starts ringing. An unknown number flashes on the screen. I swipe to answer, already preparing for a telemarketer. This call will undoubtedly be added to a list of the things I didn’t miss while stranded.
“Hello?”
A feminine hum precedes any reply. “May I speak to Ms. Cross?”
I quirk a brow at her formal tone. “This is she.”
“Hello, ma’am. I’m one of the nurses at Faredale, following up from your recent visit. We have some lab results to share with you.”
“Uh, okay. Is there anything I should be concerned about?”
“I suppose that depends on how you react to the news that you’re pregnant.”
A low whistle howls in my ear. Empty air cracking with static is next. I pull the phone away, checking to be sure this isn’t a prank or some sick trick my subconscious is scheming. All I find is the call timer racking higher.
“Hello? Ms. Cross?”
I peel the glue off my tongue. “That’s not possible. I’m on birth control. My last injection was in late September.”
Her tsk-ing scold sounds too much like my mother. “Not according to your virtual records. Your most recent appointment was at the end of June. That means the previous dose is older than three months and no longer effective.”
I’m already shaking my head before she’s done speaking. “No, no. That can’t be correct. There must be a date missing.”
But as I begin counting backward in my mind, the error is all on me. I cancelled the scheduled lab time because a mandatory meeting at work took priority. The protection range provided me with a few weeks of leeway overlap without any concern. Now that I’m thinking about this, my freaking period has been absent. “Oh, crap.”
She laughs down the line. “I get that a lot.”
I leap from the couch and begin pacing. “What am I supposed to do?”
“You always have options, dear.”
Of course I do, but only one made sense. Not that she cares about my plans. “Are you certain of the results?”
“Blood tests are the most accurate at this stage. You can take a few urine tests at home for added reassurance. We’ll see you in the clinic at the eight-week mark for an ultrasound. Can you confirm the last date of your menstrual cycle? Very early detection, yet extremely accurate. If you want further proof, I would suggest getting an at-home test followed by a visit to your doctor.”
I prattle it off quicker than my name. The fifth of October has been stamped in my brain. A countdown had been going in looming fear of getting my period in the wilderness.
“We’ll see you at the end of this month, just after Thanksgiving.”
My mind is reeling, but I manage to set an appointment. I hang up while muffling a sob against my palm. Sweet Jesus, how did this happen? A baby? Kids are so far off my radar, there’s barely a blip to recognize the far off thought. I lay a hand flat against my abdomen. Could it be true?
I text a distress message to my sisters, followed by Casey and Grace. My assumption is one of them will be in the nearby vicinity to swoop over and pass me a paper bag before I hyperventilate. They’ve all been very supportive as I suffer through this separation. Now they’ll need to provide wisdom on how to handle dropping bombs.
My cell buzzes with another incoming call. This is a number I’d recognize while blindfolded. I swipe across the screen with a trembling finger.
“Hey.” My greeting is little more than a mumble. I probably couldn’t hear a marching band parading down the street over this violent thumping in my skull.
“Hello to you.” Casey huffs down the line. “What’s with the vague texting?”
I resume pacing from the kitchen to my bedroom in a jagged line. “Can you come over or not?”
“Someone’s moody. Trouble in paradise?”
“Very funny.” I glare at a spot on the yellow accent wall, imagining her bouncing brows.
“Oh, chill. I’m already on the way, Blake.”
My thumbnail becomes a chew toy while I build a mountain of courage. “Can you do me another favor?”
“Sure.” She drags that one word out with a layer of suspicion.
“I need some pregnancy tests,” I blurt. Saying the words out loud makes me feel faint.
Her sputtering reminds me of Daffy Duck, and I almost laugh. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
“I might need you to repeat that. How did you get knocked up and not tell me?”
What the heck does she call this? My eyes roll to the beamed ceiling. “Ugh, can you bring them to me or not?”
“Duh, mama. I’ll be there in fifteen.” She’s most likely teasing with that nickname, but it makes my eyes burn all the same.
I swipe at the pesky moisture sticking to my lashes. A rock lodges in my throat, but I manage to croak around the emotion. “Thank you.”
“Of course, bestie. No matter what, I’m always here for you. Try not to panic until I arrive.”
A wobbling smile lifts my lips while we disconnect. While waiting, I answer texts from Reagan and Adalene. They’re off the hook for the moment. Depending on what the next twenty minutes brings, I might be alerting them again. Grace is probably still at the office so I can’t be too bothered about her silence. I’m sure she’ll catch up on the gossip train later.
It’s a shock that my floorboards aren’t worn through by the time a knock calls out. I swing open the door to find my friend’s grinning face. Casey wraps her arms around me without a word, tugging me into a snug embrace.
“Stop stressing,” she mutters into my hair. “It’s bad for the baby.”
I poke her in the ribs. “You’re such a shit.”
She whips out three tests and fans them in front of her face. “What’re the chances you have to pee?”
“Close to bursting.” I snatch one of the boxes and begin speed walking to the bathroom.
Casey is practically tripping on my ankles in her haste to keep up. “Is your period late? Have you been sick? Do I need to hold your hair? What are the symptoms that set you off?”
I’m reading through the instructions and only half listening. “A nurse called.”
“And?”
“She said I’m pregnant,” I mumble while unpacking the contents.
“Chill, Blakely.” She stills my sloppy movements with a hand over mine. “Did this come out of thin air?”
I huff hard enough to send stray strands of hair flying off my forehead. “Yes. I didn’t plan on this. At all. Prior to thirty minutes ago, I wouldn’t have considered it being possible. I’m on the freaking shot.”
She puckers her lips in a lewd fashion. “Did it fail? If that’s the case, I need to start using two methods.”
“I failed,” I grumble. “I never went to get my last injection.”
Casey wipes across her brow. “Well, that’s a relief. Good to know it was a user error.”
“You’re not helping.”
“And you’re dawdling.”
“I’m trying to heighten the anticipation.” An internal snort calls me out. Liar, liar. The results that will appear in this tiny window are holding my normal functioning hostage.
She motions me onward. “Drop your drawers and tinkle, princess.”
“Your bedside manner could use some work.”
But my attempt at dela
ying is over. I rip open one of the sticks and do my business. For some reason, this reminds me of relieving myself in the woods. My muscles are spasming while I try to prop sideways at a strange angle. The nerves are eating away at my insides. Having my friend bear witness is not uncomfortable, though. College dorms had a way of stealing the stage fright from my bladder where other girls are involved. Either way, I highly doubt she’d leave me alone if asked.
“Dude,” Casey laughs. “You’re going to fall over.”
I repeat the process with two more strips. “This is complicated, okay?”
“Looks like it.”
After all three tests are dipped in limbo, we set a timer and sit in absolute silence. I twiddle my thumbs for the sake of not resembling a statue. Casey is picking at her nail polish, leaving pink chips all over my rug. We simultaneously startle and yelp when the alarm blares.
My vision is full of little plus symbols. Each test spread across the counter displays the same result. The room blurs as heat attacks my eyes. I blink and set a few tears loose.
“Wow,” I whisper.
Casey rubs tiny circles across my back. “Are you happy?”
“Extremely. How can I not be?” I’m nodding while more droplets track down my cheeks. “This is just very unexpected.”
“That seems to be the theme for you as of late. No pun intended.”
A distorted giggle escapes me. “Isn’t that the truth?”
“What will Halder think?”
I drop my chin, hiding the pesky tremble giving me away. A block of tension squeezes my belly. Sucking oxygen into my straining lungs becomes a chore. “I dunno? We can’t even see each other. He just got out of prison. How am I going to break the news? His life is already a tornado. Now I’m going to toss this on his lap.”
“Deep breaths, Blake.” Her tone takes on a soothing tune. The cramps in my stomach ease. I slide my puffy lids shut and do as she says. “It’s going to be great. No worries. We’ll figure it all out.”
I chomp my bottom lip as a list of necessities begins to compile. Telling Halder takes the top spot, but how the heck am I expected to do that? A groan wheezes from my pinching mouth. The sound is pitiful to my own ears. “I don’t even know what to do with myself right now.”
“Should we sit down? Call your mom? Binge a show? Take a drive?” She ticks the options off on her fingers.
I tug at the collar of my shirt. The loose material is suddenly too restrictive. “Can we go for a walk or something?”
Casey’s gaze lights up. “I have a better idea. Let’s go out and celebrate. You’ve been cooped up in this box for too long. Fresh air and people will put some cheer in your mood. I’m making the executive decision, so it’s best you just agree.”
The barricades closing in on me begin to crumble. I give her an easy shrug. “Okay.”
She squints while studying the slack in my expression. “That was almost too simple.”
“Distraction is key while I get my plans in order.”
Her nod follows my mantra. “I’ll buy you a virgin margarita for being so cooperative.”
“Nine months of no tequila,” I grumble.
She loops an arm around my shoulders and guides me to the foyer. “The sacrifices begin now. Better get used to it.”
I slip on a pair of boots and grab my jacket. The weather is getting colder, but it’s still far milder than the Arctic Circle. A shudder wracks my limbs at the faux chill.
Casey quirks a brow my way. “You good?”
“Getting there.”
“It’s probably better if I drive.” She clicks her fob.
I settle into the passenger seat with a sigh. “Thanks for coming to my rescue on short notice.”
“You would do the same for me.” She steers onto Main Street, not bothering to ask where we should go. “But let’s hope you don’t have to until I find myself a Halder.”
The grin splitting my lips is total instinct. “He’s pretty great.”
“I can’t wait to meet him. Finally.”
That reminder brings forth a sinking sensation. Other than my mom and sisters, he hasn’t seen much of my life here. The foundation of our relationship was built in the Canadian wilderness, surrounded by nothing but nature. Will we survive the trials that regular society will throw at us?
A glance out the window bathes me in beaming sunlight. Not a speck of snow has dusted the ground. Cars crowd the streets. People are striding with purpose along the sidewalks. Buildings stand tall in each direction. There’s not a chance of catching sight of the Northern Lights unless we head into the country. Everything is so different. I flick my gaze downward to the flat expanse of my torso. Soon even more will change. Are we ready?
Casey pulls into the lot of Cup & Plate, finding an empty spot in the front row. “Lucky us. And happy hour is just starting.”
“Keep rubbing it in.”
“The sober fun is just beginning for you.” She tips her head back with a manic cackle. “Just kidding. It’s not like you’ve ever been a huge booze hound.”
“It’s nice to take the edge off. I could use a little numbing juice for this situation.”
“You can drink vicariously through me. I’ll order whatever you can’t.”
I wink at her. “You’re too kind.”
She returns my gesture with gusto, fluttering her lashes extra fast. “What can I say? I’m a people pleaser.”
A frosty wind nips at my exposed cheeks as we shuffle toward the entrance. The trusty comfort of fresh garlic and melted cheese greets me as we step inside. Those simple pleasures never get old. Since it’s only four o’clock, the place isn’t too busy. A sign by the host stand tells us to seat ourselves.
Casey thrusts an arm out, motioning left to right. “Booth or bar?”
The butcher block counter reminds me of the woods in an ancient ancestor sort of way. “Eh, I’ll belly up on a stool. Just for kicks.”
“That’s the spirit.”
We hop onto our seats and order a round of cocktails, sans alcohol for me. It only takes a handful of moments before the weight of this afternoon’s reveal bears down on me. I roll my shoulders while sipping at the citrus slush in my glass. The bundle of nerves only doubles in size and threatens to expand wider.
Casey peeks at me over her salted rim. “Can we address how you’re going to tell Baby Daddy yet?”
And there goes the rest of my false calm. “Is it awful that I want to hide under a rock until he’s forced to guess?”
She pops her lips open. “You have to tell him, Blakely. He deserves to know.”
I giggle at her mask of offense. “Whoa, that’s not what I meant. Obviously I want to share the news with him. It’s a super huge deal, and he’ll be excited. Trust me, I have no intentions of keeping this a secret from him. I just don’t know how to spill the beans.”
“Send him a picture of your pee stick.”
“Gross, no. This should be done in person.”
“And how long will it be until you can see him?”
“I don’t know. This is all too much.” I scrub over my bleary eyes. “I’m an emotional mess. Are my hormones already out of whack?”
“Most definitely.” She makes a circular motion around my middle. “This is like PMS on steroids.”
“How lovely.”
Casey gives my arm a light squeeze. “You’ll be fine. It’s a learning curve. Halder will be there to rub your sore back and deliver ice cream at midnight.”
The poor man has no idea what’s coming for him. “This is all my fault. The last thing Halder needs is a baby. He has enough to worry about already without me adding to the stress. What am I going to do?”
She brushes a speck of lint off her sweater. “Let him decide how to react.”
My phone lights up with a text, buzzing on the bar top a second later. I drag the device closer and glance at the screen.
SBM: Where are you, sweetheart?
Me: Cup & Plate with Casey.
&n
bsp; SBM: Okay, I’ll be there soon.
The ruckus around me tapers off until only a muted clomping crashes against my ears. Time slows as I stare at those words. His short message has my pulse rioting to thundering beats. It feels like a solid five minutes pass before my fingers regain mobility.
Me: Come again?
SBM: That’s what she said.
Me: What have I told you about stealing my jokes?
SBM: You’re laughing. Don’t pretend.
Me: But be serious. I’m going to see you?
SBM: Hell yes. I’ve been granted free rein, Lee. That means I’m coming for you. Over and over. *winky face emoji*
I glance at my entourage of one, a smile quickly invading the shock. “Guess he’s finding out tonight.”
Survival tip #29: The journey is dull without a few surprises, which always seem to arise at the most likely curve.
The instant I’ve cleared the bar’s doorway, my starving gaze is on the prowl. I narrow in on the glossy cascade of dark waves before my eyes have adjusted to the dim lighting. My feet are carrying me toward Blakely within the next staggering breath.
Even concealed in a pink coat I’ve never seen, the curves of her waist and hips call to me. I want to toss her over my shoulder and haul us off to some quiet place where no one can disturb us. Holding off will be the ultimate test of my control. My need for her rivals a savage beast in the wild, hunting for his mate under the glow of the moon beyond conceivable reason. That craving sinks into the very structure responsible for propelling me forward.
The last thing I want is to scare her, but the intensity is thrashing through my veins. I’m not a barbarian, but she makes me feel capable of razing down any man who dares to look at her. At this rate, I’m likely to burn this entire building for the chance at having her alone.
After exhaling the fire in my lungs, I erase the final stride between us. “Would it be cliché if I ask to buy you a drink?”
Even though she’s turned away, I see the moment recognition strikes her lax features at hearing my gruff timbre. Blakely pivots on the stool until her legs are wedging between mine. Shaking fingers lift to my jaw, cupping with delicate care. “You didn’t shave.”