Chapter 17
ELLA
Ithink I’m dying.
Okay, I’m being overly dramatic. But between the fact that I can’t catch my breath, and my heart rate currently has my watch sending me alerts, maybe I’m actually dying? I don’t know.
“Girl, I need you to take a deep breath,” Whitley says quietly, rubbing my back. “In and out of the paper bag. Slow breaths.”
I inhale slowly, a shaky breath that barely takes the edge off my hysteria. How can I do this? What do I say? What if it happens again? I don’t know how to handle this right now. I’m barely getting by, and now everything is up in the air.
“Are you sure?” Whitley asks, her voice soft and soothing.
“N — no, not completely sure.”
“So there’s a chance you’re wrong?”
“I know my body, Whit. I’ve only felt this way one other time.”
“And you’re late?”
I nod, a fresh set of tears filling my eyes. Yeah, I’m that kind of late. The kind where periods don’t show back up for almost a year. Where the body either changes as it grows a human being, or decides to stage a battle with the uterus by ending a pregnancy.
“Do you want to take a test?”
I nod again. I’m about ninety percent sure I’m pregnant, but I need to know for certain. Figures that I have sex once — ONE TIME — in years, and get knocked up. “I can’t waltz into a drugstore to buy a test. I’ll have to drive out of town to get one. Too many nosey people here.”
“I have one at home,” Whitley says. “Would you like me to go get it? That’s easier than you dragging the kids out of town.”
“Why do you have a pregnancy test?” I ask.
“Long story that I don’t feel like explaining right now,” she replies. “I’ll go grab the test. Sit here, keep breathing slowly, and don’t spiral.”
Thankful Whitley lives only a few minutes from the bookstore, I stay behind the register, focusing on my breathing. When the bell over the door jingles, I assume it’s Whitley returning, then jolt in surprise when I find Jeremy smiling at me.
“Hey, Ella,” he says smoothly.
“Hello. What can I help you with, Jeremy?” I reply, keeping my voice even-keeled.
“Can I take you out to lunch?” he asks bluntly.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to go,” I answer. I’ve tried to be nice to this kid, but he’s not taking the hint. It’s time to be as specific as possible. “I’ve made it clear I have no interest in you, Jeremy. I think it’s time you hear what I’m saying.”
He has the audacity to pop his lower lip out in a childish pout. “Oh, come on. You’re no fun.”
Before I can respond, a deep voice from the door snaps, “The lady answered you.”
A shiver skirts down my spine as Leo approaches, his eyes dark and dangerous as he crowds Jeremy against the counter. Jeremy immediately recognizes the expression, throwing his hands up in submission. “Dude, I was just asking. Chill.”
“No, I won’t fucking chill,” Leo answers. “You can’t seem to take no for an answer. If this happens again, rest assured you’ll be answering to me, and the outcome will only be beneficial to one of us.”
Jeremy looks at me, his eyes pleading. “A little help here?”
“Don’t look at her. Look at me,” Leo growls out. “If I hear that you’re bothering her in any way, you will not get off easily. Do you understand me?”
Jeremy nods quickly, then slides out from between Leo and the counter. “Understood.”
As I watch Jeremy’s quickly retreating back, I don’t notice Leo rounding the corner until he has my face in his hands.
Before I know it, his lips are on mine, and I reflexively relax into the kiss.
I’m backed into the wall as his tongue skirts along my lips, and I sigh into his mouth.
I thought I’d forgotten how wonderful Leo’s kisses were.
I went years without them, though I honestly don’t know how.
I’ve been craving his kisses for the past two months like an addict needing another hit.
“Alright, I’ve got the goods — oh, shit,” Whitley blurts out as she bursts through the door. But Leo doesn’t jump away from me. He ends the kiss slowly, sensually, then pecks my lips a couple of times before stepping back.
“Hi,” he whispers, a smile twitching on his lips.
“Hi?” I reply, confusion evident in my tone. He’s wearing joggers, a tee shirt, and a Denver Wolves hat, looking sinfully rugged and manly. A hysterical giggle escapes my throat when I think about the fact that I fucked this man against a wall.
And he probably got me pregnant.
And then I remember the jackass hasn’t called me since then, and I’m suddenly pissed off. Placing my hands on his pecs, I push him back a few feet. “What the hell was that? Playing a game of ‘I licked it, so it’s mine’? Pretty childish, even for you, Leo.”
He smiles sheepishly, reaching up to scratch absentmindedly at his beard.
“Would you believe me if I said that wasn’t my intention at all?
I was only going to check on you, because you look a little pale, so I wasn’t sure if that jackass said something to upset you.
But then you bit your lip, and that’s always been my kryptonite. ”
I’d forgotten about that. I teased him mercilessly in high school about it, because I could basically tell him anything, and he’d forget all about it if I bit my lip. “Why are you here, Leo?”
His smile falters. “Can I come over tonight?”
My mouth drops open in shock. Seriously? Did he just ask me for a booty call?
Leo’s eyes widen. “Shit. Not like that! I meant dinner. Or after dinner. I never did check on your dishwasher, and I’d like to see the kids too. And you, of course. But I’d like to talk. To explain some things, if that’s alright with you.”
I should say no. Tell him tonight isn’t a good time. Come up with any excuse: Violet has a cold, or Oliver has something scheduled with a friend. Anything. But instead, while looking at Leo’s earnest expression, I nod. He sighs in relief. “Good. Great. I’ll bring a pizza. Will that work?”
I nod again, unable to speak. Leo leans in to kiss me quickly, then turns to stride away. He says hello to Whitley, who subtly hides the pregnancy test box against her chest, and then walks out the door. Whitley immediately giggles. “What the hell did I just walk in on?”
“I don’t even know,” I reply shakily, dropping onto a stool by the register. Laying my head on the counter, I groan. “Jeremy came in and asked me out again. All of a sudden, Leo was in here, threatening Jeremy, and then we were kissing. I don’t know how it happened.”
“Leo threatened Jeremy?” Whitley asks as she hands me the pregnancy test, and I nod. She hums in approval. “Those Santo boys do enjoy the potential for violence.”
I snort. “They really do. An ex of one of their sisters showed up at the police station quite a bit worse for wear back in the day, but Leo and his brothers claimed they weren’t involved. I bet they still maintain their innocence.”
“Having a sexy man willing to go to bat for you isn’t the worst thing.”
“I guess not.”
“Alright,” Whitley says, clapping her hands. “Do you want to do the test here, or wait until you get home?”
“Here, I think. I need to know now, especially if Leo will be over later. So I can plan how I tell him.”
“How late are you?” Whitley asks.
“I don’t even know,” I moan.
“Are you late often?”
“My cycles are pretty irregular. It never occurred to me to track anything because I wasn’t having sex.” I rip open the box, removing the stick. “God, I haven’t taken one of these in years. Should I read the directions?”
“For fuck’s sake. No, El. They haven’t changed the test. Pee on the stick, wait a few minutes, then hyperventilate. Pretty standard.”
I turn the box over to look. “Oh, good, a digital test,” I say, relieved. “I don’t like looking for lines. I want a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ response.”
“Agreed. I tend to think I see a line when there isn’t one, so I prefer the digital tests too. Now get in the bathroom, ma’am. You know we’ll get that afternoon rush right before we close.”
I head into the employee bathroom at the back of the store.
In the quiet space, I feel like crying again.
I can’t believe I’m in this situation. I’d have never thought this kind of history would repeat itself, and certainly never with Leo as a participant.
I was almost positive that night wasn’t near the middle of my cycle.
After peeing on the test, I stick it back into the wrapper, wash my hands, then make my way back out to the register.
When I see Whitley speaking with someone, I carefully place the test in my pocket, then jolt when I see the customer Whitley is helping is Gianna.
Her face lights up when she sees me. “Hey! I came to see if you wanted to do dinner tonight.”
“Oh. I can’t tonight. Are you available tomorrow or Saturday?” I ask, choosing not to tell her that Leo is coming over tonight. I’m not ready to tell anyone about — well, I’m not ready to tell anyone about anything.
Her face falls. “Oh, bummer. I can’t tomorrow, but I can on Saturday. Better yet, want to meet at the park with the kids? It’s supposed to be really nice. We can bring a picnic.”
“That sounds wonderful. Noon okay?”
“Perfect. See you then! Bye, Whit,” Gianna says with a wave, then walks out.
“Did you ever notice she and Leo have the same walk?” Whitley blurts out, and I burst out laughing. “What? They really do!”
“I’d never thought about it, but you’re right,” I tell her, rubbing my eyes.
“I wonder if your kid will walk like that,” she muses, then slaps a hand over her mouth.
“Jesus. I should think before I speak. If you’re pregnant, do you plan on keeping it?
I mean, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.
It’s honestly none of my business. I won’t judge you whatever you decide. I’m here for whatever you need.”
“I don’t know yet,” I confess. “I don’t even know if I can carry a pregnancy. There was no real reason why I miscarried before, but I didn’t look into it further. I don’t think I could have an abortion, though.”
“Miscarriages can happen for all kinds of reasons, El,” Whitley says quietly, placing her hand on my shoulder. “I hate that you’ve struggled with what happened to you, but it doesn’t necessarily mean it’ll happen again.”
“But what if it does?” I whisper tearfully.
“What if I tell Leo, and he gets all excited, and then I miscarry? He might never forgive me. I’ll have to move, because I won’t be able to live here and get hateful looks from his entire family.
I’ll lose Gianna again, and have to pull Oliver and Violet from the only home they’ve ever known … ”
“Woah, woah, woah,” Whitley says, squeezing my shoulder. “Don’t spiral. We’re not there yet.”
Oh, I’m spiraling. “I’ll have two under two!
Do you know how expensive diapers are? And what if I can’t breastfeed, so I’ll need the expensive formula Violet drinks?
God, what if she never takes to solids, and she’s still drinking that formula then?
Oliver will probably regress, and then I’ll have three drinking formula and pooping in diapers and I’ll never be able to see adult humans again because I’ll just be covered in puke and poop and pee and —”
Whitley slaps a hand over my mouth, effectively stopping my psychotic outburst. “I highly doubt Oliver regresses all the way back to drinking formula. Yes, diapers are expensive, but we can research cloth diapering. It’s gross, but cost-effective.
If you can’t breastfeed, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.
All formula isn’t as expensive the crap Violet needs to have, and at some point, she’ll wean off of that too.
You’re taking every molehill and making it into a mountain, El.
You might not even be pregnant. And furthermore, you know Leo is going to be one hell of a hands-on dad. ”
My face screws up as emotion overtakes me, and I wail, “Yeah, but I’m going to be an awful mom!”
“Fucking hell, maybe you are pregnant,” Whitley mutters.
“While I know you don’t consider yourself a mother because you didn’t birth Oliver and Violet, you are, in fact, the only mother figure they have.
That makes you a mother. And you’re doing a great job with them.
I know at times you think it’s going horribly, but I have to assume all moms feel that way.
Pull the test out, El. Let’s cross this bridge now, and we’ll figure out all the other steps in the future. ”
Sniffing hard, I wipe the tears from my face as I nod. Guess I have to rip off the Band-Aid. Here goes nothing.
Yanking the wrapped test out of my pocket, I slowly turn it over.
We’re quiet as we stare at the digital display.
“Now what?” I ask numbly.
Whitley sighs. “Now we figure out a way to tell Leo he’s going to be a dad.”