Chapter 22
Twenty-Two
CALLIE
TWO WEEKS LATER
Iwas going to be sick.
Which wasn’t unusual these days.
“Perhaps you’re coming down with a stomach bug,” Mum had suggested when I was sick at the bakery yesterday.
I’d thought maybe she was right when the next morning I’d upchucked my breakfast into the toilet in my cottage.
Last week, I’d signed the rental agreement, and my family helped me move in.
A few days after I’d settled into the home that brought with it some cozy nostalgia, I’d gotten a new car, so I didn’t have to rely on other people for lifts everywhere.
Thankfully, that morning the bakery was closed, because as I’d sat back on my heels, exhausted, my eyes alighting on the tampons peeking out of my bathroom cupboard, a cold dawning slid through me. Mum had unpacked the boxes for the bathroom. Maybe if I had, realization would have hit me sooner.
My period was late … and I’d missed my last period.
I’d been so busy settling back into the business and the village and dealing with the emotional turmoil of Lewis’s return, and then revelations, it hadn’t even occurred to me that I’d missed my period.
I’d missed my period after sleeping with Lewis.
Unable to think or talk to anyone until I knew, I cleaned myself up and grabbed my purse and car keys. Knowing that if I bought the pregnancy test in town, or nearby, it would be all over the village in hours, I drove to Inverness.
By the time I arrived in the city and purchased a pregnancy test from a large pharmacy, I hadn’t been able to wait the hour to know. I slipped into the pharmacy’s customer restroom and peed on the stick.
Nausea rolled through my stomach as I stood there. Sequestered in the stall of the loos, I listened to people come and go as I watched the test stick like a hawk. I’d paid extra for one of the digital tests.
A few minutes later, the word Pregnant appeared on the screen. And below it: 5–6 weeks.
“Oh my fucking, arsing, bloody, shitty, fucking, fuck, fuck!”
Awful silence rang in the wake of my outburst.
Then I heard a female voice joke, “Want to bet she’s either just got her period or she’s pregnant.”
Another woman chuckled.
Sometimes I really hated Scottish people. And I said that as one of them.
I burst out of the stall and marched over to the sink to wash my hands.
Glaring at the two women in the mirror, I shook from head to toe.
“Oh, it’s all fun and jokes out here, eh?
If you must know, nosy parkers, I’m pregnant.
Happy?” I threw the pregnancy test into the bin and promptly burst into tears.
A few seconds later, I was enveloped in a stranger’s arms, her perfume making me even more nauseated. But I clung to her as she soothed a motherly hand over my back. “There, there, sweetheart. It’s going to be all right.”
Was it?
Because right now, a tumultuous mix of thrill and absolute terror overwhelmed me.
The strangers were called Ellen and Shirley.
Ellen was the person who hugged me through my tears.
She told me she had a daughter around my age and would hope someone would comfort her if she wasn’t around to do so.
They’d insisted on walking me back to my car, and chatted to me about nonsense everyday things, like the weather, in an effort to calm me down.
It worked, and I was in a fitter state to drive home than I had been in the restroom.
I thanked them and they wished me luck before waving me off as I left the car park.
Nearing home, I called Mum to ask her where she was.
She told me she was with Aunt Ally and Collum at the art gallery.
I’d seen Aunt Ally as much as possible since I’d been home, and I even babysat Collum last week so she and Jared could have a night out at the Gloaming together.
It seemed only fitting that she was there when I found Mum.
I told her to stay put, that I was on my way. Mum sounded curious and a bit worried.
After we hung up, I called the doctor’s office to make an appointment. The receptionist asked what it was pertaining to, and I told her I’d rather discuss it with the doctor. She tried to insist, and I insisted she mind her own business. She harrumphed, but I got an appointment for two days’ time.
Skies Over Caledonia Art Gallery was situated around the corner from Flora’s, just off Castle Street on Sutherland Way, the street opposite the Gloaming and home to the village hall.
Aunt Ally’s art gallery was two doors down from the village hall and next to one of three stores that sold overpriced Scottish-themed gifts to tourists.
I parked outside the Gloaming, praying I saw no one who would make it impossible not to stop and say hello to.
My prayers were heard, and I hurried across the street and straight down toward the gallery.
As I approached, I could see past the lovely pieces of glasswork, paintings, and jewelry displayed in the window to the main floor of the gallery.
Aunt Ally had Collum in her arms. He was big for two, his legs dangling as he slept with his head on her chest, his arms tight around her neck.
Aunt Ally held him like he weighed nothing as she and Mum chatted quietly.
Strangely, there was no one else in the gallery.
Then I noticed the closed sign hung on the door.
Nevertheless, I let myself in, my gut churning like crazy.
The entire drive home, I’d tried to think of the right words to say to my mum. The perfect words.
And I had them ready on the tip of my tongue when Aunt Ally whirled around, and I saw Collum’s sleepy but teary face resting on her upper chest. Suddenly, I saw my future in vivid color.
I was going to be a mum.
An actual mum.
Responsible for a small human being.
The room started to shift beneath my feet.
“Look who’s come to see us,” Aunt Ally crooned gently in her American accent. “Aunt Callie. Aunt Callie”—she whispered to me now—“we had to close the gallery because our little boy is teething again and he’s understandably making quite the ruckus.”
How the hell am I going to do this? I suddenly wondered in a panic.
Allegra had Jared. And aye, they were both busy, but they had each other to share the exhausting, terrifying job of parenting.
“Baby girl.” Mum suddenly moved past Allegra, a deep frown furling her brows. “What’s happened?”
At that moment, the perfect words deserted me. I shrugged, tearfully, my hands coming to rest on my still-flat belly. “Well, I did as promised. It didn’t happen to me at sixteen.”
Confusion gave way to realization as Mum looked down at my hands on my belly. “Oh, Callie.” She reached for me and pulled me into her arms, her embrace tight. “Oh my sweet, sweet girl. It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay.” Her loving support and acceptance were my undoing.
I burst into tears and clung onto her like I was a child again.
Keeping it from Dad was the worst, even more so for Mum.
But I didn’t want anyone to know until the doctor confirmed my pregnancy.
There would be no fear that it would be leaked from the doctor’s surgery either, because the last time that happened, Mrs. McKay found out her husband had cancer before he had the chance to tell her.
The person caught gossiping was fired because there was such an uproar in the village about it.
Therefore, I could rest assured that while the people working in the surgery might know before Dad … and Lewis … they wouldn’t tell them.
I asked Mum to accompany me, and I think I must have left crescent shapes in her skin from where my nails dug into her while she was holding my hand.
Dr. Mulligan confirmed it.
I was just over five weeks’ pregnant. How hadn’t I realized sooner?
“It’s still too early to be showing, generally,” he’d replied.
“And you’ve been under some stress, returning home and settling into the business.
Sometimes when we have a lot on our plates, it’s easy to lose track.
” He’d cleared his throat. “Now to a somewhat delicate subject. During your first antenatal appointment, you’ll be offered a blood test for STIs.
But if you feel it’s important, I could run those now. ”
Embarrassment made my cheeks hot. This was what came of living in a small village. Everyone knew I was single, including Dr. Mulligan, so everyone would also know I was pregnant from a hookup.
But with Lewis.
Who’d told me he’d only ever slept with one girl in the whole seven years we’d been apart.
Still, my last health check had been after I broke up with Gabriel.
“I don’t think there’s any hurry for that,” I replied quietly. “I’ll do it at the antenatal appointment.”
Dr. Mulligan nodded and set out the schedule of what was to come. I trusted that Mum was listening intently because I was lost in my confused and aching emotions.
Since I was a kid, I’d dreamed of having my own family. I’d even dreamed that Lewis would be my children’s father. Yet never in those dreams were we separated and co-parenting.
I barely remembered leaving the doctor’s office with Mum. Instead, I remained in brooding silence while Mum drove us home. Except we didn’t return home. She drove us to An Sealladh, a restaurant fifteen minutes outside of Ardnoch, that sat on the coastline.
I looked at her questioningly, but she patted my hand and got out of the car.
Following her out, we walked into the restaurant together.
Since it was brunch time, it wasn’t rush hour inside and was fairly quiet.
Thank goodness. I couldn’t deal with crowds right then.
We snagged a table at the back beside the glass wall that overlooked the North Sea.
There was an outdoor balcony, but today it was too overcast to sit outside.
“What can I get you ladies?” A younger girl appeared to take our order.
“A pot of English breakfast tea to share and two plain scones,” Mum ordered for us.