I pull out my phone and throw the blankets off. I am wearing jeans and a tank top. I knew he was going to insist I stay home. I fought him on it just so he wouldn’t get suspicious. I do hate missing work but at the same time, there is a worry brewing in my head that I need to settle before I can focus on January Parker’s big hit single.
“Amanda, how lovely. I was just thinking about you. I was wondering if you wanted to have coffee or maybe lunch but then I remembered that your new job is regular business hours which is just wild to me–” Iris says.
“I need you to go with me to CVS.”
She stops.
I slip into my flip flops and grab my keys and my shades. I’m not going to put on makeup because when Callum does come home, I need to look like I haven’t left my bed.
“Is everything okay?” she asks slowly.
How do I answer this?
Realizing that once we get there, she is going to know what’s going on, I might as well rip the Band-Aid off here and now.
“I think I’m pregnant.”
“Oh, my God,” she blurts out, her dainty British accent making it sound so much less insane than it is.
“Yeah. And I just want to go to the store and get a test to confirm it so that I know whether or not I should for real be freaking out.”
And this next part is why I love my best friend. Iris and I are an odd pair, me with my ripped jeans and her with her Banana Republic capris. Me with my colored hair and her with her blonde ponytail pulled back tight. But for whatever reason, none of that has ever mattered to us. We can count on each other. We don’t ask questions, we just show up. No judgment, no nothing.
“I’m grabbing my handbag, and I’ll meet you there.”
Iris and I pull into the CVS close to her apartment, which is close to my old place on the other end of the city, at the same time. I’m obviously not going to make her drive up near me. For one, I don’t want anyone who might recognize me from work to see me. The nearest CVS to Callum’s place is right next door to the coffee shop where I buy his coffee every Monday through Friday. That in itself would be a fiasco.
So, I drive to Southend. As I get out of my car, a black hoodie that I swiped on the way out the door and dark shades covering most of my identity, I feel like I’m here to do a drug deal. Iris, as usual, reads my mind. “No offense, darling, but I feel like your outfit is drawing more attention to you than not.”
“I just don’t want anyone to get photos of me,” I say quietly, looking around. It’s wild that I am actually looking for people with cameras in the shrubbery.
“Why would they take photos of you?”
“Because I am married to a Hardin,” I answer as we make our way inside.
“And Hardin’s can’t shop at drug stores without getting noticed?”
“Hardin’s can’t do anything without getting noticed.”
The automatic doors open and we make our way inside. Iris, like a normal person, says hello to the cashier with a smile.Comments on the weather even. Glances at the sale flyer. Checks out the end caps. I, like the feral possibly pregnant and definitely hormonal maniac that I am bolt strait for aisle five.
“Contraception and family planning,” Iris says as she comes up behind me.
“Why do they put those two things together?” I ask in annoyance. “Like I’m not going to need a rubber if I’m peeing on a stick.”
“I think you are supposed to buy the rubbers so that you don’t have to pee on the—you know what, I am just going to stop talking.” Iris buttons her lips.
Meanwhile, I am about to have a full-blown panic attack. “How did this happen? For real! How!?”
“I mean, are you on birth control?” she whispers.
“When do I have sex, Iris? When?! I spend half my time working and the other half dealing with my princess of a sister. I have no me time. When would I have time to fuck anyone?”
A woman on the other end of the aisle, glances our way then looks back at the tampon box in her hand.
“I mean you have been shagging your boss, haven’t you?”
“Not…a lot…” I realize how dumb the words are as soon as I say them.
