She patted my hand but didn't take it. "Consider it a tip, dear."
"I can't take a fifty percent tip—" I started to say.
She just shook her head at me. "I'm not taking it back so don't bother arguing."
I knew by the firm set of her jaw that she meant it. This was another aspect of Mrs. Phelps that reminded me of my maternal grandmother. When she dug her heels in, that was it. There was no moving her from her position. Arguing was a waste of breath, not because she would argue back but because she would refuse to engage at all.
That was one thing that infuriated my mother about my grandmother when I was growing up. When she tried to get Grandma to go to the doctor or change her diet, my grandmother would just tell her that she was fine and that was that. If Mom kept arguing, Grandma would just walk away and pretend like she wasn't even speaking.
I'd never had the guts to do it to my mom, but I knew it was her weakness and I was saving it for a special occasion. Or when I developed a death wish.
After making a few incoherent noises, I finally settled on saying, "Thank you."
She smiled at me, bright and cheerful. "No, thank you, Lee. It's such a joy to have you around every week."
A twinge of guilt pierced me. I hated that she felt like she had to pay me to come see her. I'd known her my entire life and she'd recommended me for the job with Cam and Sierra.
Once again, my eyes turned damp.
Good grief! What was wrong with me today?
"I love coming to see you, too," I managed to say even though my throat suddenly felt too tight. "You know that, right?"
She patted my hand again. "Of course you do, darlin'."
I gripped her fingers lightly and kept her from pulling away. "You've always been here, Mrs. Phelps, and you've always helped me. Don't think for a minute that I don't truly and sincerely appreciate it. You've been like another grandmother to me."
"Oh, dammit, now look what you've done," she said, blinking rapidly as well. "If you make me cry and ruin my make-up before the ladies come over for book club, I will kick your behind."
I laughed and released her hand. "We can't have that, can we?"
I think I surprised both of us when I suddenly leaned forward and hugged her. "See you next week, Gammy Phelps."
She swatted me on the shoulder and squawked. "Impudent child!"
I laughed and hurried out the door before she could swat me again.
As I closed it behind me, I heard her sniffling and griping about ruining her make-up.
My eyes welled up all over again when I got into my car to drive home, but at least I didn't have make-up to worry about.
5
The penny dropped when the morning nausea hit me three days in a row.
As I knelt in front of the toilet, dry heaving, I tried to remember my last period. I usually kept track of my cycle so I wouldn't be caught unawares, but now that I was working two jobs and going to school, I'd let it slide.
Obviously, I shouldn't have.
Once the worst was over, I sat down on the cool tile floor and wiped my forehead with the cold rag I'd wet in the tub. I counted back and realized my last period had been a couple weeks before Cam's wedding. A little over two months ago.
I groaned and let my head fall back against the wall.
How could this have happened?
Yes, stupid question because I know exactly how it happened in a clinical sense, but we'd used protection! I liked to do my research so I knew condoms were nearly one hundred percent effective when used properly. I may not have used one before, but I did look up the do's and don'ts and J.J. and I had checked off every "do" without committing any "don'ts."
I took a deep breath and blew it out. "I may not be pregnant," I said.
