Her eyebrows arched. “Did he do something to you? I’ll dump bleach in his chair and ruin one of his suits. I’ll start cleaning the whole building with that grapefruit solution he hates. I’ll?—”
I wrapped my friend in a hug, grateful for her. “Thanks for being there for me.”
She hugged me back. “Always.”
Breathing a heavy sigh, I said, “I should let you get back to work.”
“You sure? We can grab coffee or something if you need to cool down.”
I could tell she was worried about me, but sitting with me longer probably wouldn’t help. I didn’t feel like reliving the events of this morning, even before that crazy proposal. And despite it all, Bryce had asked me to keep the conversation between us. It didn’t feel right to share.
“I think I’m going to head home,” I finally said. “I’m not feeling so well.”
Rei nodded slowly. “Text me when you get there so I won’t worry about you all day.”
“Sure.”
We left the janitorial closet just as Dominic walked by, tying his apron behind his back. At the sight of us spilling from the closet, his lips formed a salacious grin. “A little morning tryst, ladies? I’m right on time to join you.”
Rei rolled her eyes. “Get out of here, Dom.”
He lifted his hands in surrender. “Not today. I get it. But there’s always tomorrow.” He winked at us.
If I were in a better mood, I would have laughed. Instead, I watched him saunter away while Rei grumbled something about overconfident men, and then we said goodbye.
On the bus ride home, I tried to make sense of Bryce’s crazy request. But with all the bumps in the road and the stops and starts, my stomach was churning again, making any coherent thought impossible. By the time the bus rumbled up to the stop closest to Glamma’s house, I was ready to be off of there.
Hanging on to the rail, I went down the bus steps and sat on the blissfully empty green bench, taking deep breaths of still-warm air. Fall in Dallas never felt right until later in October or November.
When my stomach finally settled again, I stood up, walking toward Glamma’s house. In the middle of the day, the sidewalks were empty, no one walking about or even sitting on their front porch. So when my cell phone rang, I jumped.
Feeling silly at my strong reaction, I reached in my purse for the device and checked the call. It was a local number, so I answered.
“Hello, this is Jada,” I said, forcing a smile onto my lips so I’d sound pleasant.
“Jada, it’s Dr. Martins,” the older man said.
“Oh.” I wasn’t expecting a call so soon, but with Bryce’s money and influence, I shouldn’t be surprised. “Was everything okay with my blood test?” Even though it was probably nothing, itcouldbe something. Ovarian cancer was more common in women with endometriosis, and it was a constant fear hanging over my head.
“Let’s go through it,” he said. “I ran several panels. Your blood glucose and insulin were elevated, but it wasn’t a fasted test, so that’s to be expected. Your blood cell counts all looked in line. Your liver enzymes are slightly elevated, which could contribute to nausea, but there is something else.”
My stomach clenched, not with nausea but with dread. “What is it?”
“I know you said you have endometriosis, but I added a pregnancy test in just in case... and it was positive.”
I stopped on the sidewalk under the shade of a big oak tree. The wind that passed by wasn’t cold, but I shivered all the same. “Was it a false positive?”
“It could be, but that’s very rare.”
“So is getting pregnant unplanned with endometriosis and a birth control shot,” I retorted, refusing to believe I waspregnant. With ababy.
“Birth control isn’t always one hundred percent,” he countered. “The next step is to confirm a pregnancy with an ultrasound and see how far along you are.”
An ultrasound.That sounded expensive. “I don’t have insurance,” I said. Suddenly, stalling on my insurance search because I couldn’t find an affordable option seemed very, very stupid. My throat felt tight, and my vision tunneled. I couldn’t be a mom. I couldn’t even take care of myself. I was living in my grandma’s spare bedroom. There wasn’t even space for a crib in there.
Dr. Martins’s voice was kind as he said, “I have an OB friend who does sliding-scale fees. Do you have a pen and paper? I’ll give you their number.”
Blinking quickly to clear my vision, I dug into my purse for my pocket notebook. It was flipped open to the page where Bryce had written his phone number.
