“I’m really happy for you, Lexi. And don’t worry too much, okay?”
“I’m in the studio with Crimson Edge this week, so hopefully I’ll be too busy to worry.”
“Focusing on work is a good thing.”
“Yeah, and then rehearsals for our tour start Saturday.” My band, Nobody’s Fool, is going out on tour for the first time as headliners so there’s a lot going on.
“Are you still going to go on tour?”
“Everything is already in the works,” I admit. “I’m going to have to talk to the guys about what this means going forward, but for now, I’m not changing anything. Especially not until I talk to Dr. Diaz.”
“Right. I don’t blame you.” She pauses again.
“What?” I ask. “What don’t you want to say?”
“I’m just concerned about your mental health. I know how much you love music and touring. Being stuck at home for an indeterminate length of time, especially with Zaan gone, could be frustrating for you.”
“I know. That’s one of many things I need to talk to the doctor about.”
“She isn’t going to be able to give you definitive answers. Today you feel fine. Tomorrow you could be puking your guts out. She can only give you averages.”
I sigh. “I know.”
“Well, let’s not worry about any of that. You need to get to work and so do I. Gracie Brekken is having another surgery today.”
“Oh no.” Gracie is the daughter of one of Zaan’s teammates. She went through a windshield as an infant that scraped off part of her face, and Mack has been slowly rebuilding it for her as she gets older. It’s still heartbreaking, though.
“Oh, it’s not serious. Just a little touch-up. But it’s time. And we want to give her the summer to heal.”
“Before school starts. Smart.”
“Anyway, we’ll talk later, okay?”
“Thanks, Mack. Love you.”
“Love you too.” We disconnect, and I stare straight ahead as I drive.
Am I excited?
I am, but I’m also worried.
The timing isn’t good because we have a tour coming up and there’s a lot of money on the line.
I’m potentially high risk because of my health history.
The Sidewinders are in the playoffs, so Zaan doesn’t need distractions right now.
And more importantly, why don’t I have any symptoms?
Does that mean there’s something wrong with the baby? With me?
I’m doing a duet with Jonny Gold for Crimson Edge’s new album—it’s going to be the first single—and then they’re supposed to go on tour with us for the first six weeks. Then our management company is changing things around, but if I’m six or seven weeks pregnant, and then we leave for tour in three weeks, that will put me at ten or eleven weeks.
That’s almost the first trimester.
When will I start showing?
What happens when I can’t dance around the stage in skimpy clothes anymore?
