Page 66 of Wicked Love

Ugh. I haven’t imagined the whole thing.

My knee bounces nervously until my name is called. I follow the nurse into the exam room that’s decorated with cheerful posters about prenatal care. I answer a few questions, tell her about the positive pregnancy tests and my unpredictable periods.

Dr. Talbot knocks on the door a few minutes later and walks in, energetic…how I normally try to be when I meet new people.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Talbot,” she says, extending her hand with a grin.

“I’m Poppy,” I say, trying to smile back. I still feel like crying, but fortunately, I don’t burst into tears.

“Let’s see what’s going on, shall we?” Dr. Talbot says.

Within minutes, the ultrasound confirms what I already knew. Dr. Talbot’s smile softens as she turns the monitor toward me.

“Well, there’s your baby, Poppy. You’re about nine weeks along.”

Nine weeks. Two months. My breath catches.

“Wow,” I whisper.

“It’s a lot to take in,” she says. “How are you feeling about all this?”

I laugh nervously. “Completely overwhelmed.”

“That’s fair. Pregnancy is no joke, but you’re healthy, the baby looks good, and you’ve got some time to figure out things. At least until mid-November. Baby steps.” She grins. “I’ll want to see you back in a month. Blaire will help you set up your next appointment.”

“Okay.”

I leave the office clutching a folder of pamphlets and feeling like I’ve stepped into an alternate reality.

I stop by Luminary on the way home and then pause in front of the counter. Wait. I think I’m not supposed to have caffeine.

“Hi, Poppy!” Clara says. She lifts her eyebrows when I step out of the line. “You okay, honey?”

“I…good. Hi! Just need a sec.”

I back up and bump into someone. Hands wrap around my biceps, steadying me. I look over my shoulder, and my mouth drops open. Bowie. What are the chances?

“Poppy?”

“Hello? It’s me,” I sing.

Yep, like Adele. Only without the beautiful voice. More like a wilting, sad seal.

He chuckles. “Hey, you.”

“You look good.” I sigh and again, he chuckles.

Why does my torture bring him joy? I know not.

“Uh, I mean. You always do, but you seem good…” I turn to face him and lower my head, rubbing my temples. “I’m sorry to fall off the face of the earth when you’ve needed friends more than ever.”

“Arewe friends?” He wrinkles his brow and my mouth falls.

“Are you…being playful?”

He puts his hand on his chest in mock outrage. “Me? Playful? Never.”

I grin, all the while the words,I’m having your baby,pump through my chest, begging to come out. My smile drops and I laugh like a hyena. “Right. You? Never. Hahaha.”

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