Tetchy? She thinks Nate Black was tetchy? I suppose she doesn’t know the depth of his assholery because I haven’t told her, and I never will. I smile and nod. “True.”
“We should head back to EZ’s next weekend, maybe you could—”
“No.” I shake my head. “I’m never going back to EZ’s.”Ever.
Robin laughs. “Oh, you’ll change your mind.”
I won’t change my mind. Hell will freeze over before I ever step foot in EZ’s again.
5
Maggy
Almost two months later.
I hearhis voice coming through the bathroom door of the flower shop. It’s not hard because Gus has a booming voice even when he’s trying to keep quiet. Trust me on that. I’ve heard enough of Gus “Venom” Kowalski’s dirty talk coming from Robin’s office to last me a lifetime. I’ve gotta say, though, he knows how to do it. It’d be impressive if it weren’t gross. You can’t unhear some of that stuff.
Ugh, the memory of their most recent, erm, episode makes me feel queasy. Again. Couple that with the words he just tried to whisper to Robin. “What’s her deal? She’s sick all the fuckin’ time. Is she pregnant or somethin’?” Leave it to Gus to ask a question likethat—like it’s nothing. The guy is very low-key.
He’s right about one thing, though. I’ve been sick for a while. I keep thinking I’m going to shake this stupid bug but so far, no luck. What I didn’t consider was the latter. That I could be pregnant. That word is all it takes for me to heave again. And again.
As I splash cool water on my face for the second time this morning, I ask myself:Could I be pregnant?
Sitting on the toilet seat, I rest my head on the side of the cool sink and think about when I last had my period. I’ve never been super regular anyway, so it didn’t occur to me that something could be amiss.
“Fuck a duck,” I mutter softly. It’s been a while. I don’t remember the last time I bought tampons, and I know I’m out of them. “Why didn’t I think about that?” I mean, I spent Christmas day in Robin’s bathroom with this same affliction. I thought it was something I ate.
Because, Maggy, you didn’t want to think about it. You wanted to forget about Nate Black, remember?
My brain is right. I wanted to forget about Nate Black. And so far, I’ve been fairly successful with that endeavor. Fairly.
Sure, there have been nights I tossed and turned thinking about what the man did with his tongue and his hands, but all I did to stop those thoughts was turn on my television and fall asleep to some boring news channel. Other times, I read a little nonfiction, which always puts me to sleep, and when neither one of those worked, I’d get out my personal pleasure device, better known as my PPD, and I’d remedy that situation.
But now I’ve got to think about Nate Black again—and not in a good way. “I can’t be pregnant.” We used condomsalmostevery time.
Ugh.I cringe recalling the time over the couch. That was poor judgement, for sure, not using protection. I figured it would be okay since I was on the pill—mostly. Sure, I’m not a dummy, I know neither condoms or the pill are 100 percent reliable, but I’m thirty-four (nearly thirty-five) years old. My eggs are practically dead by now. I know this because I watched a show on it. And that show said the odds of me getting pregnant at my age are about a million to one.
Apparently, they were wrong.
“You okay, hon?” Robin asks as I step out of the bathroom. I feel better than I did when I first ran into the bathroom, but since Gus said the world, “pregnant,” that sick feeling has returned.
“Um, well….”
I look at my friend, who looks over at her boyfriend. Reaching out, she touches his hand. “See you tonight?” she asks him with a smile.
“Sure, babe. See you at your place.” Gus looks at me. “Take care, Magpie.”
He started calling me Magpie almost immediately. I never asked him to stop because why would I? Especially after I googled them to make sure he wasn’t insulting me. He wasn’t. They’re supposedly super intelligent birds. So smart they can recognize themselves in a mirror.
But I digress.
The minute Gus is gone, Robin reaches for me and wraps me up in her arms. “You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”
Her question is enough to make the tears fall. Crying on Robin’s shoulder doesn’t happen often, but when it does, I let go. I do it long enough for Robin’s shirt and part of her apron to get damp. When I finally gather myself, I say with a crackly voice, “I don’t know. I heard Gus ask you that and honestly, I hadn’t considered it.”
“Well, the thought has occurred to me, but I figured you’d tell me.”
“I had no idea. I guess I’m an idiot.”
