“Is it too sterile?” She loved it like this—calm and clean—but she knew that her minimalist bent gave some people the heebie-jeebies.
“No. It’s soothing, actually. I just don’t know how you maintain it.”
“Magical elves. With tiny hoovers and feather dusters.”
“I knew you’d been holding out on me, bitch,” Gina said amicably. “You need to send some of that elf magic my way.”
Charlie smiled as she opened the wine and poured. “I’ll see what I can do. But even elves have their standards, you know.”
“Careful, or I won’t share,” Gina said, flipping off the lid. The smell of cream and cheese and bacon filled the room.
“Oh, boy, this is going to be good,” Charlie said.
“Word,” Gina agreed.
They dived into the box. They both made appreciative noises as they scoffed their first quiche before going back for seconds.
“So good,” Charlie said around a mouthful of food.
“Tell me about it,” Gina mumbled.
The phone rang, catching Charlie in the act of reaching for her third quiche. Rolling her eyes at Gina over the bad timing, she wiped her buttery fingers on a napkin and went to grab the phone.
A softly spoken woman identified herself as a nurse at the hospice where her father had spent his final days, and Charlie listened in bemusement as she explained that they’d discovered a previously overlooked box of personal belongings with her father’s name on it in their storage room.
“I was under the impression my father had either given everything away or thrown it out,” Charlie said.
“Well, there’s a box that didn’t go either way. What would you like us to do with it?”
Charlie gave the woman her address and credit card details to cover shipping the stuff from Melbourne, then ended the call and returned to Gina.
“What was that all about?” Gina asked as she sipped her wine.
Charlie explained briefly before changing the subject. There wasn’t much to discuss, after all—her father was dead, and the odds were good that the box contained a bunch of meaningless bits and pieces. Keith Anderson Long had been too organized and orderly a man for it to be any other way.
They continued to slurp their wine and made each other laugh with anecdotes from their respective days as they consumed the pastries. Finally the box was empty and Gina pushed herself to her feet.
“Fantastic. I’m now going to loll on your couch and complain about how full I am and how I couldn’t possibly fit another thing in while you finish making dinner,” she said as she headed for the bathroom.
“Or I could put you to work, stringing the beans and whatnot.”
“Hard-hearted wench,” Gina said, her voice echoing down the short hallway.
Charlie smiled as she sat back in her chair, sipping her wine.
“Hey, Charlie—my stupid period has come early. Can I borrow a tampon?” Gina called, her voice muffled by the closed door.
“Sure. In the cupboard behind the mirror.”
There was a short pause then Gina called out again. “There’s nothing here.”
Charlie set down her glass and stood. “Did you have a boy look or a girl look?” she asked as she headed for the bathroom.
“I had a girl look. A really good one. Smarty-pants.”
Charlie paused outside the bathroom. “You decent?”
“Give me five secs. Okay, come in.”
Charlie entered. Gina was standing in front of the open bathroom cabinet, a frown on her face.
“I dare you to find a tampon in there.”
“Watch.” Charlie stepped toward the cabinet, one hand already raised in anticipation of finding what she was looking for. She frowned as her gaze scanned over toiletry and medicinal products and failed to find the familiar pink-and-white box.
“That’s weird,” she said. “They should be in here. I always make sure I restock after my period.”
“Guess you must have forgotten last month, then,” Gina said lightly. “No worries. I’ve probably got one lurking in the bottom of my handbag.”
She slipped past Charlie, who remained staring at the bathroom cabinet, her frown intensifying as she tried to remember when she’d had her last period…and couldn’t.
“Don’t be stupid,” she muttered to herself.
She must be getting mixed up somehow. She could remember having her period in Perth because the cramps had come at exactly the wrong time. Two weeks later, she’d cleared out the flat she’d been sharing with another female officer, packed her bags and flown to Sydney.
And she hadn’t had her period since.
And in the interim, she’d had sex with Rhys-the-unforgettable. Three times in the one night.
Adrenaline fired in her belly, sending a shock wave through her body. She took a step backward, appalled by the thought that had snaked its way into her brain.
“Told you I’d have one,” Gina said as she returned. “Hey. What’s wrong? You’re pale.”
Charlie took another step backward and sank onto the edge of the tub.
“What’s the failure rate for condoms?” Her voice sounded as though it was coming from a long way away. Cleveland, perhaps. Or maybe Moscow.
“I don’t know. Not high. One or two percent, maybe?” Gina was still frowning, but suddenly her eyes rounded and her eyebrows headed for her hairline. “Oh, my God. Tell me you’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking.”
Charlie looked at her friend, her mind busy doing the math and getting the same answer over and over.
“I’ve missed two periods. I’ve been so busy getting everything sorted that I didn’t even notice. That’s why there are no tampons in the cupboard.”
Gina swore and sank onto the bathtub beside her. There was a moment of profound silence as they both processed their own thoughts.
“Okay. First things first—before we hit the panic button, we need to know what we’re panicking about.” Gina looked at her watch. “It’s only four-thirty. The pharmacy around the corner should still be open.”
“Good idea,” Charlie said. She pushed herself to her feet. A wave of anxious dizziness hit her and she sat again.
“I’ll go,” Gina said instantly. “You stay here. Don’t start freaking yet, okay? I’ll run all the way.”
“Okay,” Charlie said meekly.
Gina’s hand dropped onto her shoulder, warm and reassuring. “It could just be stress. Changing your life is a big deal.”
Charlie nodded. Gina gave her a quick squeeze before she slipped past. Charlie stared at a cracked floor tile, her mind ricocheting from one thought to the next.
If she was pregnant…
But she couldn’t be. They’d used condoms. A new one each time…
But condoms failed. That’s why they weren’t one hundred percent foolproof. Still, what were the odds of one of them failing and it being the exact right point in her cycle…?
Big. Too big. Way too big. Huge. She couldn’t even calculate the probability it was so large. She probably had a better chance of winning the lottery.
And yet she’d missed two periods.
“Oh, God,” she said, bracing her elbows on her knees, her head dropping into her hands.
She couldn’t be pregnant. She simply couldn’t. She’d just started her own business. She’d barely unpacked from the move. She was single, in a new city, essentially unemployed if anything went wrong with her business.
She moaned, digging her fingers into her skull.
Please let it be stress. Please let it be stress. Please let it be stress.
The front door slammed and when she looked up Gina was standing before her, a bag in hand. “Okay.
I have no idea how these things work, but I’m sure we can figure it out.”
She handed over the bag and Charlie pulled out a slickly branded box. Her hands were shaking so much that she couldn’t pull the flap from the slot and Gina took it from her.
“Whatever happens, we’ll work it out, okay, Charlie?”
Charlie nodded, enormously grateful for her friend’s use of the plural even though she knew in her heart of hearts that if she really was pregnant, the responsibility would land squarely on her shoulders, no matter what she decided to do.
“Okay. We have instructions,” Gina said as she pulled a folded sheet from the box.
They pored over the instructions for a few minutes, then Gina handed Charlie a cellophane-wrapped stick.
“Do your thing,” she said.
Charlie managed a small smile, only letting it drop when her friend left the room. Her stomach knotted with dread, she pulled down her jeans and sat on the loo. For a moment she thought she was going to have to try later, but her body finally came to the party. She followed the instructions and then set the stick on the edge of the vanity while she flushed, pulled up her jeans and washed her hands.
“Okay,” she called.
Gina opened the door and passed Charlie her glass, now brimming with red wine. “For courage.”
Charlie stared at it. “I don’t know if I should. If it’s positive…”
She couldn’t quite bring herself to say the word pregnant yet. But if she was, then alcohol was on the no-go list. Especially in bucket-like quantities.
“Shit. You’re right. Sorry.”
Gina set down the glass on the vanity and they both sat on the edge of the tub.
“I take it that means you wouldn’t consider a termination, then?” Gina asked.
Charlie frowned. Her brain hadn’t gotten that far yet.
Or maybe it had, since she’d been so quick to reject the wine.
“If it seemed like the best thing to do, I would.”
“But…?”
“I don’t know. When I was younger, I wouldn’t have thought twice about it. There was no way I would have been able to cope then. But now…it might not be convenient. It might not be easy or wise or planned or anything. But I could do it now.” She spoke slowly, thinking out loud. “I think I could be an okay mum. And I’ve always imagined that one day I’d have kids.”
Although the image of herself with a child had always been part of some nebulous future-vision of her life that incorporated a man she loved, the whole notion was so far off and distant in her mind that it was barely in focus.
“I think you’d be a great mum. But it’s hard yards doing it all on your own.”
“I know.” Charlie studied the back of her hands, mulling things over.
“You don’t have to make any decisions right now,” Gina said. “Let’s take this one step at a time.”
Charlie glanced at the white stick on the vanity. “Do you think it’s been five minutes yet?”
Gina checked her watch. “Right on the knocker.”
Charlie continued to stare at the stick without moving. She could feel her heart pounding inside her chest and her palms were suddenly sweaty. Funny that she’d felt almost exactly the same way when she’d been flirting with Rhys all those weeks ago, hoping he felt the same way she did.
Not funny ha-ha, obviously. Funny weird.
Funny scary.
“Want me to…?” Gina offered.
“I’ll do it.” Charlie roused herself and reached for the test. Her fingers closed around the thumb grip and she lifted it. For a moment the light hit the stick so directly that she couldn’t see anything. Then she blinked and she was staring at two pink lines.
All the air left her lungs in a rush.
She was pregnant.
Oh, wow.
She was pregnant.
An elbow dug into her ribs.
“Don’t forget to breathe, okay?” Gina said.
Charlie realized she hadn’t inhaled for a while and she sucked in a big lungful of air.
“You want a glass of water?”
“No. I’m okay. I just… This is surreal. God. Maybe you should pinch me.”
Gina’s arm slid around her shoulders, warm and reassuring. A human anchor tethering her to reality.
“This is the last thing I ever imagined happening to me,” Charlie said. She couldn’t take her eyes off the two lines. “I mean, I could hardly get a guy to look at me in high school. Then I meet Rhys and we have one night together—one measly night—and now I’m pregnant? We had sex three times. We used protection. It just doesn’t seem possible.”
“I know, but the stick says it is.” Gina’s arm tightened around her shoulders. “Come on. Let’s go into the living room. Sitting on the tub like this is making my bum numb.”
Charlie allowed her friend to usher her onto the couch. Charlie tried to pummel her shocked brain into action. She needed to think. She needed to strategize.
“We have a few options before us, Ms. Long,” Gina said as she sat beside Charlie. “We can talk this to death. I can distract you with fripperies and foolishness. Or I can go home and come back tomorrow and we can talk this to death.”
Charlie looked at her friend. She honestly had no idea what to do or say next.
Gina smiled sympathetically. “I’m going to go with option C, because you look as though you’ve been hit by a truck. I’ll go home, but I want you to call me, no matter what time it is, if you need to talk, okay? No matter what. There is no such thing as convention or common courtesy in a crisis.”
“Thank you,” Charlie said simply, because suddenly being alone felt exactly like what she needed.
Gina gave her a big hug. “I’m warning you, if I don’t get a phone call at one in the morning I am going to be so disappointed.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Charlie saw her friend out and found herself in the kitchen looking at the half-prepared meal she’d planned. Without really thinking about it, she picked up the knife and started to slice the tops and tails off the remaining green beans. When she’d finished with the beans she moved on to the garlic and shallots and potatoes. And all the while her brain was whirling away.
The idea that there was a child growing inside her right now made her feel almost giddy with disbelief and anxiety—but underneath the shock and fear, buried deep, there was also the tiniest tickle of something else.
All her life she’d essentially been alone. Her mother had died giving birth to Charlie, and her father had been an undemonstrative man, gruff and withdrawn at the best of times. He’d demanded a lot of her and given little back in terms of affection or approval, a dynamic she’d managed to repeat in the two serious relationships she’d had in her life so far.
But a baby didn’t have its own agenda. All a baby wanted was love and warmth and food and security, and she had all that to give and more. As she’d said to Gina, she thought she had it in her to be a good mother.
But that didn’t stop her from being terrified by the prospect. In a perfect world, the test would have confirmed Gina’s stress diagnosis and she would have been drinking a toast to a close call with her friend.
Charlie stared at the potato peelings and bean ends strewn across the counter. Since when had the world—her world, at least—ever been perfect?
She cleared off the counter and put the prepared vegetables in the fridge. Maybe Gina would be free for dinner tomorrow night.
A single question spun around her mind as she worked.
What do I want? What do I want?
She wasn’t naive enough to assume that a termination would be the easy option. She knew herself well enough to know that the decision would be one that stayed wi
th her for some time, should she choose that route. She didn’t believe it was a decision that any woman made with blithe, carefree indifference. But definitely her dilemma would end with a visit to a family planning clinic. If she chose to keep the baby, the challenges would only become more and more profound.
What do I want? I want for this not to have happened. For me not to be in this horrible situation, between a rock and a hard place. I want to hit the reverse button and go back in time and erase the moment when being pregnant was even a possibility.
She ate toast for dinner, sitting on the couch staring at the TV. She had no idea what she watched. Afterward she went to bed and stared at the ceiling. Finally she fell asleep.
She woke in the small hours, her heart pounding. She sat up in bed and reached blindly for the phone. Gina had said to call. She was going to take her friend at her word.
“Charlie. You okay?” Gina asked the second she answered the phone.
Charlie didn’t need to ask how Gina knew it was her.
“I’m going to keep the baby.”
The decision had been there in her mind the moment she’d surfaced from sleep. Maybe it had always been there, she simply hadn’t been ready to acknowledge it.
“Okay. Good. Congratulations, C. You want me to come over?”
Charlie looked at the clock. It was five in the morning. Her natural inclination was to lie and deny herself, as she always did, but she needed her friend right now.
“Would you mind?”
“Be there in five.”
Gina arrived in her pajamas, a sweater and running shoes, her hair pulled into two fluffy pigtails. Charlie handed her a cup of coffee and a plate of toast and they made themselves comfortable on the couch.
“It took me a while, but I realized that deep down inside, there was a part of me that didn’t think this was the worst thing that could happen. Not perfect, you know, but not the worst. I think I can do this.”
More Than One Night Page 6