“Oh, uh, right,” he says, his cheeks flushing red. It’s so strange how some guys get so embarrassed the moment a girl mentions anything of the sort. And other guys will happily go buy their girls whatever they need without hesitation.
Lucky for me, the guard is too embarrassed to even follow me into the store.
“I’ll be right out front,” he tells me after he looks in the small pharmacy and is satisfied there is no concern.
“Alright, I won’t be long. Then I just want to stop at one more shop before we head home,” I add, trying to make it all sound as normal as possible.
Just a girl shopping, getting some things. Nothing strange going on at all.
On the way to the counter, I select face cream, conditioner, lip-gloss…all random items I do not need, but I want other things in the shopping bag, so it doesn’t feel like I’m carrying out an alarm bell in a small brown packet when Iwalk out of here. It’s not like the guard is going to check what I purchased, but it’s not the point.
My anxiety is spiking into me like needles when I hurry to the counter and ask the lady to please discreetly put a pregnancy test into a packet for me.
She understands the assignment and rings my other items up with a smile and then slips one into the bag without a word about it. I guess I’m not the first girl to ask her to do this.
“I hope the results are what you want them to be,” she whispers as she hands me my items.
“Thanks,” I say with a flutter of butterflies in my stomach.
What you want them to be.
Did I ever plan to have a baby? No. I never planned it. Not yet, anyway. Am I happy? How can I answer that? Right now, I’m more worried about what Anton will think if I’m pregnant. Will he be angry? Will I be upset?
What in the world do I want the results to be?
Suddenly, I have an overwhelming need to know the answer right now. I can’t even wait until I get home.
Leaving the pharmacy, I tell the guard I have to pee, so we need to stop at the ladies'.
Again, he doesn’t question me.
He stands a little away from the ladies' room doors and waits inside the mall with his hands in his pockets.
I hurry into the bathroom stall and shut the door.
Tugging the pregnancy test out of the paper bag, my heart races while I tear it open.
Pee on the stick.
Clip the lid back on.
Sit on the closed toilet lid with my leg bouncing anxiously while I watch the timer on my phone count down.
I’m too impatient to wait until the timer is up before I look, though, and my heart sinks into the pit of my stomach when I see the second red line is already pretty bold.
I stare at it until my phone beeps. Time's up.
Two solid red lines.
No doubt anymore. There it is. The answer.
And I can’t seem to move.
I’m pregnant.
I’m pregnant with Anton’s child, and my future is so uncertain. And I don’t know if I want to be a mother. I’m a great aunt. Kelsey and Kira are my beautiful little babies, but being a real mom? A mom to my own baby? This is so much.
My head starts spinning, and I quickly toss the test in the trash and do my best to pull myself together.
