Chapter 31
CHAPTER 31
DIXIE
T he usual sound of the building waking up told me it was morning. Sunlight poured through the blinds that had been closed for the last couple of days as I attempted to block out the world. The rays of sun felt too warm, too invasive, too much. The light landed on the coffee table, illuminating the pregnancy test that had been taunting me all night. Its tiny screen, with the unflinching word pregnant , felt as loud as a siren in the quiet room.
I couldn’t cry anymore. I’d cried until my body was wrung dry, leaving my eyes swollen, my nose clogged, and my head foggy. Frankie sat across from me on the couch, her bottom lip raw from hours of relentless chewing. She didn’t seem to notice, but I did. It was one of the only things grounding me in reality.
“Stop biting your lip,” I said numbly, my voice hoarse and scratchy.
Frankie stilled, her teeth hovering mid-bite, before switching to fidgeting with her necklace. The long silence between us stretched like a rubber band ready to snap. I almost wished it would, just to end the unbearable tension.
She had stayed with me last night. She didn’t have to, but she did. I was grateful for that. Because honestly, I was hanging by a thread. I still couldn’t believe what that test was trying to tell me. I was going to take another one. That one had to be broken.
“I want to take another test,” I blurted out. “That’s a cheap one. I want to take a real one.”
Frankie nodded immediately, standing up with a newfound purpose. “Let’s go get one now. I’ll drive.”
I hesitated, not sure if I was ready to face the world, or the reality of my situation. “I’ll give you some money,” I said. “But two more. Two different brands.”
She nodded and went into the bathroom. When she returned, she looked just as good as she always did. I handed her my card, but she shooed it away. “You’re going to need every dollar for diapers.”
“Thanks,” I muttered.
“I’ll be back in a few,” she said.
After she left, I started to pick up the aftermath of our long night. A pizza box, a few empty cans of soda, and the empty carton of ice cream. I was in shock.
As I cleaned up, I couldn’t help but think about what happened in a few months. This time next year, there was a high probability I was going to have a baby in my arms. How in the hell was I going to manage that?
I sat down on the couch again, my gaze settling on the spot where the pregnancy test had been. Even though I had put it away, its presence lingered like a phantom. I knew I should be thinking about what to do next, planning for what seemed like an insurmountable future, but all I could think about was him. Was I supposed to do this without him because my sister didn’t want me with her ex? My baby should get to have a father.
Frankie returned with a plastic bag, a bag from the food truck, and a tray with two coffees.
“Burritos and coffee,” she said. “Decaf for you… just in case.”
The smell of the burritos stirred something in my stomach, something between hunger and revolt, but I appreciated her effort. Frankie placed the coffees on the table and sat beside me, her eyes scanning my face for any sign of what might be going inside my head.
“You okay?” she asked gently.
I nodded, not trusting my voice. The second round of tests loomed over us, unspoken yet heavy in the air.
Frankie reached over and squeezed my hand. “Whatever it says, we’ll figure it out together. Okay?”
I managed a weak smile and squeezed back. “Okay.”
She handed me one of the new pregnancy tests. “Whenever you’re ready.”
Taking a deep breath, I stood up and walked to the bathroom, my legs feeling like they were made of lead. Behind the closed door, I stared at the small box in my hands, the packaging too cheerful for the turmoil I felt inside.
Unwrapping the test, my hands shook slightly. A part of me still hoped that the first test was just a fluke, an error in the universe that would correct itself with this second attempt.
I followed the instructions mechanically. It wasn’t exactly rocket science but I was hoping I might have screwed up the first time. The timer on my phone dragged on relentlessly as I waited. Three minutes to determine so much of our futures. It seemed both too brief and an eternity at the same time.
Finally, the chime sounded. I shut it off and looked at the little window on the stick.
“Well?” Frankie asked from outside the door.
I stared at the two pink lines. I opened the door and held it up. “Positive number two.”
She grimaced. “Okay. We have one more. Let’s eat first.”
“You think that’s going to change anything?” I asked with resignation.
“I’m hungry. We eat. We can think better on a full stomach.”
We sat down and ate. I could hardly taste anything.
“Don’t hate me for asking this,” she said after finishing her burrito. “You’re sure it’s his, right? Like… sure sure?”
Her words hit like a slap, though I knew she didn’t mean them to. I closed my eyes for a moment before answering. “I’m sure. I haven’t been with anyone else.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah.” My voice sounded hollow, echoing the emptiness inside me. “Shit.”
I finally found the courage to say the words that had been circling in my mind since I saw the plus sign. I knew it was going to make her angry, but at some point, I had to think about my child.
“I’m going to tell him,” I said quietly. “And I’m going to ask if he’ll forgive me for ending things and give us another chance.”
Frankie froze. She stared at me like I’d just announced I was moving to Mars. I could see hurt and anger flashing through her eyes. “But you said?—”
“I had to choose you,” I interrupted. “But things have changed.”
“ Had to ?” Her voice rose slightly, a note of incredulity slipping in. “What do you mean, had to ?”
“Exactly that.” I met her gaze, my tone as steady as I could make it. “Had to. You made it very clear you were my sister and your feelings came first. You freaked out when you saw me with Hayes.”
Her face twisted, hurt flashing in her eyes. “I hoped you wanted to choose me, Dixie. Not that I forced your hand. Is that what this was? Some obligation? A sacrifice you’ll resent me for later?”
I opened my mouth to argue, to say it wasn’t like that, but the words wouldn’t come. Because deep down, I knew she wasn’t wrong. My silence spoke louder than anything I could’ve said, and I saw the realization hit her like a wave.
Frankie stood abruptly, her shoulders tense. “I can’t believe this. I want to be an aunt, Dixie, but not to a baby that belongs to a man who ripped my heart out and?—”
“People break up, Frankie!” I exploded, cutting her off. The frustration, the fear, the exhaustion—it all boiled over. “People are allowed to not be obsessed with you, for fuck’s sake! Do you not have enough to be happy about? You’re beautiful, successful, fit, in a happy new relationship, and living in a glamorous condo. Can I not have this one thing?”
“I never said you couldn’t!”
“No, it’s exactly what you said. You told me I couldn’t see him anymore because he had been yours first. So, because you saw him first, you called dibs. It doesn’t matter that he didn’t want you, you’re just taking him off the market.”
“That’s not what happened,” she said.
“It is what happened. You saw me crazy happy, and you just couldn’t stand it. Frankie is the only one allowed to have the hot, rich men. Frankie is the only one allowed to be happy. I’m always supposed to be the one that’s fucked up.”
Frankie’s face went pale, her lips pressing into a thin line. She looked like she wanted to argue, to defend herself, but instead, she just shook her head and turned away. For a moment, the room was silent except for the sound of her heels clicking against the hardwood floor as she paced.
“You don’t get it,” she finally said, her voice low and trembling. “You don’t get what it’s like to see someone you loved—someone you thought loved you—move on so easily. And with my sister, no less. Do you have any idea how that feels?”
I stared at her. Part of me wondered if she was being serious. Then I realized she was. In her mind, things did revolve around her. I couldn’t blame her for that. It was just the way things were in my family. Frankie was the youngest and just a little coddled. I did it, too. And I didn’t think her request was coming from a bad place. It was just her. “I didn’t do it to hurt you, Frankie. I didn’t plan any of this. But I can’t keep living my life based on what you want or need. This isn’t just about me anymore.”
She stopped pacing and turned to face me. “So, I’m supposed to watch you have the life and family I was supposed to have? I’m going to have to watch you have the baby of the man I loved?”
I rolled my eyes. “You are being way dramatic.”
Frankie’s face crumpled, her jaw tightening as she grabbed her bag. “I’m leaving.”
“Bye,” I said coldly, my anger still simmering under the surface.
The door slammed behind her, the sound echoing through the apartment. I barely made it to the bathroom before I was sick. Whether it was the pregnancy or guilt, I didn’t know. Both, probably.
When I finally emerged, I felt shaky and hollow. I went back to the living room and picked up the coffee Frankie had brought me. I took a drink, but it tasted putrid.
What now? What the hell was I supposed to do?
I lost my shit with my sister. I dumped the man that was apparently my baby daddy. Basically, I made a complete shit show of my life.
But that didn’t change the facts, and I was going to do all I could to make sure my child didn’t know what a fuck-up I was.
I called the doctor’s office, my voice wobbling as I asked for an appointment. The receptionist was kind but firm—three weeks was the soonest they could fit me in. I thanked her, hung up, and sat staring at my phone, feeling more lost than ever.
There was only one person left to call. The person who was supposed to have the answers, who was supposed to know what to say in moments like this.
My mom.
I dialed her number with shaking hands. She picked up on the third ring, her voice clipped. “Dixie, I’m at work. What is it?”
I couldn’t stop the tears this time. They came hot and fast, my words tumbling out between gasping breaths. “I need you. Please, Mom. I don’t know what to do.”
There was a pause on the other end, long enough for my heart to sink. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’ll call you later.” Her tone had been devoid of the emotion I longed to hear. Was it ridiculous to want my mommy?
The line went dead.
I sat there with surprise. Wrapping myself in a blanket, I curled up on the couch and pulled my knees to my chest. I tried to make myself as small as possible, as if I could disappear entirely. I had never felt so fragile in my life.
The test on the coffee table stared back at me.
Pregnant.
I closed my eyes, willing myself to breathe through the panic. But no matter how hard I tried, the question I’d been avoiding pressed itself to the forefront of my mind.
What if I couldn’t do this?