Chapter 8 – Molly
I went to work the next day like nothing had happened. I didn’t have a choice. Until I was ready to tell people what was really going on, I had to pretend everything was normal.
Not opening the bakery would’ve set off alarm bells. I didn’t miss work for anything. Unless I was on my deathbed, Molly’s opened on time.
All morning, whenever Clara walked by, I did my best to act like I wasn’t on the verge of throwing up.
I’d taken extra care with my makeup, hoping it would hide how pale I’d gotten from being sick nonstop for the last twenty-four hours.
I thought morning sickness only happened in the mornings, but apparently, I was wrong.
It was midday, and I still felt like absolute crap.
I put down the piping bag, hunched over the stainless-steel countertop where I did all my cake decorating, and closed my eyes. Maybe if I relaxed for a few seconds, the wave of nausea would pass without a trip to the bathroom.
Clara was up front helping customers and restocking the display cases with cupcakes and fudge brownies.
She was distracted for now, but it was only a matter of time before she came to check on me.
I had to pull it together before she walked back here and saw me hunched over the table.
She’d at least suspect I was sick and convince me to go home.
But what would happen when I started getting sick every morning? She’d catch on eventually.
I took two more long, deep breaths. In through my nose, out through my mouth.
Repeat.
Truth be told, I had bigger things to worry about than Clara finding out. She was the one person in my life who’d probably judge me the least for the predicament I’d found myself in.
I’d called the doctor’s office as soon as they opened this morning. They could squeeze me in tomorrow afternoon, which gave me just over twenty-four hours to write down every question I could think of—and I had plenty.
How does all of this work?
When does the morning sickness stop?
Is this why my boobs have been so sore lately?
The list kept growing with every passing thought. I wasn’t only about to be a first-time mom, I was about to be a single first-time mom.
It took a while for it to sink in after Liam left last night, but once it did, the tears came fast and heavy. I cried myself to sleep, thinking about all the things most moms would have help with that I wouldn’t.
Who would cut the umbilical cord? Who would be there to hold my hand when I went into labor? Who would drive me to the hospital if my water broke? I didn’t have that person—and I had nobody to blame but myself.
This was what I got for sleeping with my brother’s best friend. He wasn’t the man we all thought he was, and I should’ve known better than to believe he ever would be. Sure, we’d grown up around each other, but we were still practically strangers.
I could usually handle whatever life threw at me by laughing it off and believing that, in the end, everything would work itself out. But this was the curve ball I never saw coming.
The soft thud of Clara’s shoes grew louder as she got closer. I straightened up, grabbed the piping bag, and acted like nothing was wrong. When she stepped through the doorway, I gave her my best pretend smile.
“Cut the show, sister. You’re not fooling me. What’s wrong?” she said, catching me off guard.
“Nothing,” I said, watching her carefully.
“Normally you’re out there talking to every single customer who walks in. You’re the biggest social butterfly I know. But today, you’ve been hiding back here all morning, pretending to decorate this cake, and every time I check, you’ve barely made any progress. So I’ll ask again. What’s wrong?”
Damn, she was good. That was why I liked working with her so much.
Most days. Today it was biting me in the ass.
I contemplated my options. Of course, I could lie and say I wasn’t feeling well, but that lie would only work for so long—and I’d look like a jerk. Clara was like family to me. I owed her the truth.
“I’m pregnant.”
“Oh, honey, that’s amazing,” she said, her face lighting up. “Wait… by who?” she asked, looking puzzled.
“Well, that’s the thing…” I rubbed the back of my neck.
“Please don’t tell me it’s that guy who took you to the movies a couple months ago and made you pay for half of everything,” she said.
“No, it’s not him.”
“Is it that guy last year who told you you’d look prettier if you got a nose job?” she asked, looking downright terrified.
“No, it’s not him either.”
“Then who is it? Spill the beans already.”
“It’s Liam.”
“Liam Carson?”
I laughed nervously. “That’s the one.”
“Does he know?”
“That’s where it gets hairy,” I said, wringing my hands. “I told him last night, as soon as I found out—and he flipped. He took off after telling me he wasn’t ready to be a dad.”
Her jaw dropped. “No, he did not.”
“Believe me, I wish it wasn’t true.”
“Honey, I am so sorry that happened. You didn’t deserve that kind of reaction. Maybe he’ll come around,” she offered, trying to sound optimistic.
“He seemed pretty sure of himself yesterday. Besides, I texted him earlier to let him know about my doctor’s appointment tomorrow, and he hasn’t responded.”
“That little shit,” she muttered. “Does Jace know?”
“No. And he absolutely cannot find out until the time is right.” My voice was tight and high-pitched as the words tumbled out.
“I understand,” she said, wearing the same sympathetic expression Ellie and Cassie had when they found out I was pregnant. Everyone could see the disaster my life was slowly becoming.
Great.
——————————–
As I sat in the waiting room of the doctor’s office, I couldn’t tell if the sterile smell was making me nauseous or if it was my nerves.
My heart was racing. By all accounts, I was pregnant.
Between the positive pregnancy tests and the debilitating nausea, there was no denying it—but this was the moment of truth.
“Molly McKinley?”
I stood when the nurse called my name, knees weak. “That’s me,” I said with a meek smile.
“The exam room is just back here. After the doctor is done, we’ll do some lab work, and we’ll need a urine sample as well.”
“Um, okay.” I hadn’t realized I’d be doing so much on my first visit.
After taking my vitals, she held up a medical gown. “Put this on, and the doctor will be in shortly,” she said before walking out the door.
I changed into the gown, then lay back on the cold medical bed.
After the doctor walked in and introduced herself, she confirmed everything. I was pregnant.
“Based on your measurements, you’re about ten weeks along,” she said, ripping the strip of black-and-white ultrasound pictures away from the machine.
The paper weighed practically nothing, but in that moment, holding it was like carrying the weight of the world in my hands.
She kindly answered all one million and one of my questions.
Your boobs will be sore now until you decide to stop breastfeeding most likely. Your morning sickness will start easing up soon, but sometimes it can last the entire pregnancy. When it’s time to deliver, I’ll walk you through every step, don’t worry.
But as I sat, alone in my car, I was more worried than I’d ever been.
I snapped a picture of the ultrasound images, sending them to Ellie, Cassie—and Liam.
Ellie: Look at that little bean!
Cassie: When’s your due date?
Me: February 14
Ellie: A Valentines Day baby?!
Cassie: OMG how precious!
Ellie, Molly, and I texted back and forth all night.
We talked about whether we thought the baby was a girl or a boy and shared our ideas for names.
I could tell they were trying to cheer me up and get my mind off my circumstances, but no matter how long we talked, I couldn’t stop thinking about how the one person I’d hoped most would text me back tonight never did.
I stayed up way past my normal bedtime, waiting for him to respond—to say literally anything—but he never did.
So I cried myself to sleep for the third night in a row.