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I giggled. “Oh, yes, like a tornado?”

“Well, that was heartbreaking, but I have never seen Piper thrive like she is now. If it didn’t happen, would I have met you all? Would Piper get to follow these dreams? I don’t know. I’m not a religious man, but… I do believe in fate. If it’s meant to be, it will be. And maybe you’re right.”

“About what?” I asked.

“About single parenthood. You’re organized and wild enough. Maybe it’s what you should do. I trust you will know best, Chloe. I don’t quite understand you, but… I appreciate your hustle.”

I grinned. “I can handle that.”

29. REAL LIFE

CHLOE

A knock at my trailer door shook me awake. I climbed from the gooseneck bed, still woozy, and peered out. It was Piper and Leslie—fresh-faced and excited. I hadn’t even drunk the night before but felt worse. I wanted to crawl into bed and return to sleep, not mount up and take to the lake shore.

“I’m… not feeling well,” I said. “What is going on?”

“Dad made you coffee,” Piper handed me a to-go mug. “He said you probably needed a wakeup.”

It was sweet of him, but it didn’t appeal. Somehow, anything but a greasy piece of pizza sounded awful.

“Uh… thanks. Look, I really don’t feel well, kiddo. Can you tell your Dad to go on without me? If I feel up to it this afternoon, I’ll join after lunch.”

“Oh, no,” Piper looked sad. “You gotta come, Chloe!”

“I’m sorry, kiddo. I’m just so tired. I’m coming down with something or whatever.”

Turning thirty-five was a bitch.

“Get better,” Leslie said.

“I will miss you,” Piper agreed.

“I know. I’ll try to make it out at noon.”

The girls left. I listened to everyone pack. I watched from my window to make sure Pen, my old schoolmaster of a dressage horse, didn’t carry on without her friends. Thankfully, she whinnied a bit before returning to her hay. I lay in bed another hour before a thought flashed through my mind.

I didn’t get my period. Shit!

Needing answers, I decided waiting until we returned home would only torment me. I grabbed a hoodie, pulled on my paddock boots, and drove to a grocery up the road. Racing down the aisle, I pulled up my sweatshirt hood, not sure who would see me or if they would even know who I was. I paid for my questionable purchase, filed the small box into my pocket, and returned to the campground. I mumbled in a camp bathroom while ripping open the box.

“It can’t be. There is no way. This isn’t happening,” I murmured, sitting on the toilet and holding the dipstick of a pregnancy test below me.

“I’m panicking and this is silly,” I murmured. “I’m… I’m okay.”

It wasn’t the first time I’d used a pee stick in a panic. You peed, you set it aside, and then stared for five minutes while it developed. But this time, as I capped the test and continued peeing, I didn’t have to wait. The chintzy test showed two lines almost immediately. One was faint, but even in shitty campground toilet light, it was there.

“No, no, no, no,” I repeated, freaking out as I pulled my panties and sweatpants on.

In a fit of panic, I raced to the trailer. I flicked the heater on and pulled the test out. Staring at it didn’t make it less concerning. I felt like if I stared it down, I’d realize it was all a horrible dream, but that didn’t happen. So, with nowhere to turn, I called the one person I could trust.

“Hello, darling,” Lanie answered, cupping her hand over the phone. “I said put that down NOW! God damn it, George Ewan!”

I heard Baz call, “It’s fine. I told him he could have it.”

“That does not make me feel better, Basil!” Lanie turned to me. “He has a cricket bat, and Baz just gave it to him.”

“Bloody hell, Lanie, I am taking it away!” Baz grumbled in the background.