My thoughts tumbled around in my head like clothes in a dryer. “But... how?”
“I think we both know how, Birdie.”
“You were just on your period—that day I brought over chocolate pastries.”
She gritted her teeth. “No, you assumed, and I didn’t correct you. That was shitty of me, and I’m really sorry. But in my defense, I was overwhelmed and had vomited all morning. I couldn’t think straight.”
“But wait. The father is...?”
“Who do you think?” she said, sounding a little perturbed that I was slow to catch on.
“Leon Snodgrass? He’s only been back in town for a few weeks!” I argued. “You said it was—you told me you hadn’t even kissed.”
“We haven’t. Not since he’s been back.” She gestured loosely to her stomach. “All of this happened three months ago.”
My brain spun through another cycle. “When you went to that art festival in Arizona?”
“He kind of, sort of, met me there.”
“And got you pregnant?”
She held up her index finger and thumb in front of one eye and looked through them. “Just a little bit.”
“I don’t understand.”
“That makes two of us. Three, if you count Leon...” She groaned and curled up on her side, laying her head on the back of the couch as she looked at me. “We’d been texting. One thing led to another, and we spent the weekend together in Scottsdale.”
That sounded like the last place I’d want to have a romantic weekend. I was having trouble processing everything she was saying. I could feel panic and a little anger rising inside me. “And you’re here lecturing me about slipping up?”
“We used condoms. One must have broken, maybe? We don’t know. They’re only ninety-eight percent effective against pregnancy, so... Please don’t look at me that way—I can’t take it.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was embarrassed. And terrified. And... I don’t know. I wanted to, but you were starting work at the hotel, and then Daniel happened, and I didn’t want to ruin any of that for you.”
She was going through all this, and I was prancing around with hearts in my eyes? My anger suddenly fizzled out. “We’re not supposed to keep secrets from each other. We made a pact. We’re gutsy gals.”
“I know, I know,” she said, eyes glossing over. “I was just scared is all. But I’m telling you now.”
“Are you keeping it?”
She nodded. “I’m due in early December. I haven’t even told my parents. Obviously Leon knows, and my doctor. But, you know, as far as friends and family, you’re the first person I’ve told.”
My head swam with all this new information. I was stunned.Stunned. I also felt ridiculous that I didn’t figure this out on my own. I’d known she wasn’t telling me something, but now that I thought back to all our conversations, it made sense. The signs were all there. I should have seen them:
Suspect:Mona Rivera
Age:36
Occupation:Professional painter/artist; unprofessional costume designer
Motto:Glitter makes everything better.
Medical conditions:(1) Ambidextrous. (2) Broke her leg when she was 22. (3) Gives great hugs. (4) Obsessed with changing her appearance.
(5) Addicted to spicy food and pastries. [Not a period craving, but a pregnancy craving.]
Personality traits:Cheerful. Dramatic. Original. Loyal. Supportive. Risk-taker. Good sense of humor. Great sense of style. Recently guarded. [Worried about telling me she was pregnant.]
