Chapter Eight
Tyler
Head bent against the first few drops of rain, I hustled across the parking lot and scrambled into my driver’s seat. Sheesh, that wind, coupled with the unexpected shower, was cold. I pushed the start button and toyed with the climate settings until warm air rushed over me.
My phone buzzed in my back pocket, and I lifted my butt to tug it free. Dropping it on my thighs, I punched on the heated seat, melting into the leather with relief. Our GM was warm-natured, and the inside of the dealership was about as chilly as the winter evening.
More comfortable, I lifted my phone, expecting to see a text from Maggie or Jase.
Cycle deviation detected.
I frowned at the little cartoon of a red blood drop asking if I’d forgotten to log my period.
Cycle deviation? What the heck? With a scoff, I swiped to open the app.
No, I had not forgotten to log anything.
I remembered my last period because I’d worn ivory jeans to lunch with Maggie and Marilyn and–
Seven weeks.
I stared at the calendar in the app, counting. Seven weeks since my last period. That could not be right. I had a regular five week cycle, and I was never late.
Maybe I’d gotten the date wrong when I put that period in.
I swiped over to our texts, scrolling madly for the lunch planning conversation. And there it was.
The same date as the date of my last period in the app.
Seven weeks ago.
Panic unfurled in my stomach, shooting heat up my chest to grab my throat and squeeze.
I couldn’t be late. I couldn’t. Because if I was late, that might mean . . .
Oh. My. Lord.
No.
With shaking fingers, I fired off a text to Maggie. I need you at the house ASAP
My phone rang within seconds while I was reversing out of the parking spot. I answered using the hands-free button on the steering wheel. Maggie’s voice filled the air around me. “What’s wrong?”
“My period is two weeks late.” Wheeling around, I braked for the exit, thumping my hands against the steering wheel while I watched Coney’s version of rush hour clog up 19, making the left hand turn I needed so I could hit up the CVS appear impossible.
“What?” Surprise sent her voice high enough to be a squeak.
“You heard me.” Grateful for a break in the traffic, I gunned it, crossing the northbound lanes and heading south.
“Oh, my God.” Her whisper only made me shakier, and I blinked hard. This had to be a false alarm. It had to be. “Okay, I’m leaving the office right now and headed to you. Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?”
Slowing for the first traffic light, I closed my eyes, a hot prickle behind them. We were careful. Okay, so there was that one condom that slipped a couple of weeks ago, but . . . oh, my Lord.
“Tyler?” Maggie’s voice rose again. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. No.” I sucked in a trembling breath and clenched the wheel. I couldn’t be pregnant. I couldn’t be.
I wasn’t my mother and I would not make her mistakes all over again.
“Do you want me to stay on the phone?”
“No.” The light flared green, and I glanced in the mirror, changing lanes as soon as I cleared the intersection, then swooping into the turnlane. “Just . . . just meet me at home.”
“You got it.” Her voice dropped, steadied. “Tyler. It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay.”
“Yeah.” Right. Sniffling, I killed the call and skidded into the CVS parking lot, taking the first spot I could. Ignoring the chilly drizzle, I clutched my purse to my chest, my heart thudding, and hustled for the entrance.
Ironically enough, the pregnancy tests shared the same aisle as the condom selection.
I grabbed five different brands and checked out as quickly as I could.
Minutes later, I pulled into my own driveway, and Maggie jumped out of her SUV, running to hug me, the bounce of her coppery red ponytail a bright spot on the gray day.
An arm about me, she pulled me toward the side door. “Come on. Let’s get out of the rain.”
In the kitchen, I dumped the tests out on the counter and snatched one up to read the directions. It seemed simple enough – pee on the stick, recap it, wait two minutes.
Clutching the box, I ran for the bathroom, Maggie on my heels with the other four tests in hand.
With shaking hands, I tore open the plastic wrap on the stick and shoved down my slacks and panties.
Moments later, the stick waited on the counter and I avoided looking at it while I washed my hands.
Instead, I gripped the vanity and stared at my pale face in the mirror.
I couldn’t be. I just couldn’t.
Mama Nancy had rules. She’d drilled them into me from the time I’d gone to live with her.
Get married. Get a house. Then have a baby.
I hadn’t done either of the first two, unless you counted paying my own rent, so I couldn’t be doing the third.
“Time’s up.” Maggie spoke from the doorway, her voice a near whisper. I looked down, sure I’d see nothing but a single horizontal line.
A blue plus.
Oh, my God. My breath hitched. I spun, hands outstretched. “Give me another one.”
Eyes wide, Maggie peered over my shoulder at the test and pressed the next box into my hand.
Two blue lines.
Two pink lines.
A digital pregnant.
Two pink lines, so dark they were almost red.
My knees shook, and I slumped to sit against the tub, staring at the last test. All of them were positive. Bewildered, I looked up at Maggie. “I can’t.”
“Oh, honey.” Maggie came down beside me and wrapped her arms around me. I leaned into her, burying my face in her neck. She stroked my hair.
Throat tight and aching, I pulled back enough to meet her eyes. “What am I going to do?”
I hated how my voice trembled, how my whole body was shaking.
She smoothed back my hair and smiled, although her hazel eyes remained serious. “You’re going to tell Jase and then you two are going to figure this out together.”
“Maggie, I don’t know anything about being anybody’s mama.” The words stuck in my throat, tangling up with the choking panic. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t.
“You do.” Eyes crinkling with that gentle smile, she stroked my cheek. “You know everything you need to if this is something you want to do.”
I struggled to control my breathing, lungs heaving then seizing, exhales almost like sobs. Before today, I’d thought about being a mother, hazy daydreams, but in those fantasies, I’d been older. More experienced. Prepared. In a longterm relationship. I mean, Jase and I were . . . what were we?
Propping my elbow on my knee, I covered my eyes. Maggie rubbed my back.
You’re going to tell Jase.
I shuddered. He couldn’t want this. We’d been dating weeks, barely into being able to call it months. Maybe I didn’t even have to tell him. I could . . . I could . . .
A sob burst free, tears spilling over my lashes.
“Oh, Tyler.” Maggie wrapped me close, patting me. After a moment, she pulled back and tugged my hand down so our eyes met. “Listen to me.”
I nodded and gulped in a breath, trying to calm down everything racing through my brain.
“You are not alone in this. You have Mama Nancy, not to mention me and Marilyn.” She cupped my chin. “And you have Jase. He’s decent, and we both know it.”
Again, I nodded on a deep breath, the oxygen helping me to center myself. She was right – Mama Nancy would be by my side through anything. And Jase was a good man, a decent one. We could co-parent if we needed to, if he dumped me over this.
The idea brought on a fresh wave of tears. I didn’t want to lose him, but sometimes men left over an unexpected pregnancy.
I mean, look at my father.
Pushing my hair away from my face, I blew out a shaky exhale. “We’re supposed to have dinner tonight. He’s cooking.”
She chafed my knee with a gentle palm. “Are you going to tell him?”
“Do you think I can hide it, looking like this?” I gestured head to toe. I was a shaking, disheveled mess. And I did not cry pretty, so I knew my face bore red splotches. He’d take one look at me and know something was up.
And I really didn’t want to deal with this alone.
“I think it’s a good idea to talk to him.” She circled her thumb over my kneecap. “I mean, parenting is hard, but doing it together . . . that would make things easier.”
Easier. Like anything about this was easy. I closed my eyes again, breathing in and holding it for a count of four, then releasing for another four count. Two more square breaths, and I could at least think without noise and static in my head.
“Okay,” I whispered, covering Maggie’s hand with my own. She turned her palm, linking our fingers. I met her concerned gaze and nodded, a decisive movement that made me feel more in control. “Okay. I’m going to tell him.”
I swallowed, my stomach twisting.
“Tonight.”