Page 57 of I Wanna Be Your Lager

I take a sip and swallow hard. “I don’t want to jump to conclusions, but I might be pregnant.” My gaze flits between Nora and Rylee. Both their jaws are agape.

Rylee breaks the silence first. “How do you know?”

“I’m not entirely sure when I had my last period, and then there’s been a couple of times where I just randomly get nauseous. I thought nothing of it until now.”

Her eyes light up, and she rushes past us. She pulls out a jar of pickles from the cooler and twists off the top, then returns to where I’m sitting. She holds it under my nose like smelling salts. “Inhale.”

So I do.

“That make you sick?” Rylee asks.

I shake my head.

“Damn. When I was pregnant with Kaelyn, pickles made me nauseous.” Rylee screws the lid back on the pickle jar.

Nora rubs her hand on my shoulder in comfort. “It’s quiet right now. Why don’t you run to the convenience store a few blocks away? And find out for sure?”

Do I want to know? I have to find out eventually, but now? Right now? This second? I’m not mentally prepared to handle whatever the answer may be. Okay. That’s a lie. I’m not mentally prepared to handle if the answer is pregnant. “Oh, I don’t know. I’d hate to leave work.”

“Rylee and I got it. Unless you want to agonize about it for the rest of the night?” She lifts an eyebrow.

Ugh. I hate that she’s right. This will nag at me all night. I spare a glance at Nora and then at Rylee, and she nods.

“It’s better to know sooner than later,” Rylee says.

I blow out a deep breath. I wish Lach was here with me. Then again, I’d also need to tell him about the possible baby situation. “Okay, I’ll be right back.”

Fifteen minutes later, I return to Porter’s with two pregnancy test boxes. Four tests total. Pushing through the bathroom door, I lock myself into a stall. The Porter’s bathroom isn’t my first choice to find out if I’m pregnant, but at least it could make for a funny story later. I tear into the first box and read the instructions carefully. Front and back. Twice. Peeing on a stick shouldn’t be difficult, but leave it to me to screw it up. I slide my jeans to my ankles and sit on the toilet. With all the tests in one hand, I pluck one from the bouquet and hold it between my legs. I continue with each test until they’re all thoroughly peed on, with the exception of the fourth. That one only has a few dribbles. My bladder can only hold so much pee, and three tests were my max. Carefully, I place the tests on the back of the toilet before I flush and wash my hands. Returning to the stall, I wait.

Anything and everything races through my mind all at once. It’s streaks of thoughts. Nothing is clear. I rest my shoulder against the cool metal stall. My head flops to the side, hittingthe metal with a thud. What if I am pregnant? I’d have to tell Lach that he’s going to be a dad. I’d have to tell my brother he’s going to be an uncle. But the biggest bomb is the dad is his best friend. This is certainly not the way I wanted to tell him. Two birds, I suppose. I check the time on my phone. Three minutes have passed. My heart thunders in my chest as I finally work up the courage to look at the tests. Thankfully, I got the ones that say “pregnant” or “not pregnant” for easy deciphering. I march down the line. Pregnant. Pregnant. Not pregnant. Pregnant. Fuck. Of course, I wasn’t paying attention and don’t know if the not pregnant is the last one that only got a few drops. I don’t know what’s worse. I don’t know if this makes me more or less anxious because I still may be pregnant. Or not pregnant. It’s like I’m jumping back on the merry-go-round.

The outside door opens and softly closes. “Hey, is everything okay?” Nora asks.

I step out of the stall, pregnancy tests in hand, and I fan them out in front of her. She scans each one. Her eyes light up as she moves down each one until she gets to the last.

“There is a three out of four chance I’m pregnant.”

“Oh. What are you going to do?” Nora glances up at me, eyes soft with concern.

Everything in my stomach turns sour. “I’m not sure. I don’t want to say anything to Lach, just in case I’m not. But I don’t want to not tell him if I am.”

“I’m sorry, Eve, that’s definitely a tough position to be in.” Her hand rests on my forearm.

It’s soft and comforting. I can’t imagine if I had to go through this alone. Surely, that’s how it would be if I were still in Knoxville. Then there’s our non-date tomorrow. There’s no reason to alarm him with news I may be pregnant if I’m not. “I should go to the doctor and just find out for sure.”

“That might be for the best.”

I rip off a piece of paper towel and wrap up the pregnancy tests. Nora exits the bathroom, and I follow behind her. Before going back to the bar, I stop in the employee room and shove the tests in my purse. I gently push the metal locker door closed. It latches with a click. I’ve always wanted kids. But I also wanted to be married and living in a house, not shacked up in my brother’s spare bedroom. Right now is certainly not the ideal time. I rest a hand on my stomach. If I am, I’ll make the best out of it.

I push everything about being pregnant to the side. I don’t know what to say or how to say it because I’m not one hundred percent sure how he’s going to react. And that’s what terrifies me the most. Right after having to tell Jake I’m pregnant with his best friend’s baby. Tomorrow before our date, I’ll schedule an appointment with a doctor to confirm the pregnancy or not. I never thought our first date would technically be a fake date. But everything else about our relationship has been unconventional, so... Why not this?

TWENTY-NINE

STFUATTDLAGG

Lach

My leg bounces as I sit on the couch, waiting for Eve. I never expected to be this nervous to go on a date. Granted, this is the first date I’ve ever been on. It was never my thing. Mostly because I never made it my thing. I hope she enjoys what I have planned. The clicking of heels on the wood floor draws my attention. When I glance over my shoulder, my heart stops. Holy shit. I wipe my hands on my jeans before rising to my feet and spinning around. Eve saunters into the living room and rounds the end of the couch. Her rust-colored dress sways to the rhythm of her hips.

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