Page 76 of Bagging the Blueliner
“Grow up, Hannah.” Natalie’s voice shook; she was as freaked out as I was.
Amy reigned us in. “Everyone, calm down. Turning on each other isn’t going to change these results.”
It suddenly struck me that I was equal parts terrified that one of those positive tests was mine and that the lone negative was Amy’s. She wanted this, and it was clear from our reactions that neither Natalie nor I did. This had the makings of a really fucked-up day, where all three of us walked away unhappy.
Happy vacation to us.
“What do we do?” I asked our rational-minded friend.
Without warning, she scooped up the tests, causing Natalie and me to scream in protest. We weren’t ready to face reality yet.
Holding them in one hand, obscuring the bottoms where our initials were clearly marked, she presented them to us. “Here’s what we’re gonna do. You each take one as if we were pulling straws. Then, at the same time, we look. Deal?”
We nodded, but my legs were shaking and I leaned against the counter to remain upright. Natalie went first, choosing the negative result. Bitch. Eyeing up the two positives like it really mattered which one I chose, I closed my eyes, reaching for one blindly.
Amy took a deep breath. “All right. One . . . Two . . . Three.”
We opened our hands and looked down. My hand held the test with a black A written on the handle.
Thank God. One down and one to go.
Holding it up, I declared, “Congrats, Amy.”
She dropped onto the closed toilet seat, her eyes filling with tears. I handed her the test, and she clutched it to her chest.
Her happiness only heightened my panic. She held the other positive. Swallowing, I asked, “Ames. Whose do you have?”
Suddenly reminded that someone else’s life was about to change today, she cleared her throat. “Natalie’s.”
The wave of relief crashed into me so hard that my knees nearly buckled. Crisis averted.
Looking over to Natalie, I discovered she’d left the room. Shit. She had my test, so she knew she was pregnant the moment she opened her hand. She didn’t need Amy or me to tell her.
That’s when it hit me that I was being left behind again.
I wanted to be happy for them. No. I was happy for them. They were my best friends. Natalie was already an amazing mom, and I knew deep down Amy would be just as incredible in that capacity.
I didn’t want kids, so it wasn’t even about that. I would be outside looking in while my best friends shared an experience together. Lucy and Amy pregnant at the same time would be onething—hell, it was a public relations wet dream—but throw in Natalie, too? It would be easy to figure out which one of these things was not like the others.
On top of sticking out like a sore thumb, there went girls’ nights for the next year. Drinks for one? Sign me up.
Shaking off my mini pity party, I tapped Amy’s shoulder, gesturing to the bedroom, letting her know I was headed that way to comfort our friend. I stopped dead in my tracks when I crossed the threshold.
Natalie was pacing, muttering under her breath.
She was downright pissed.
Seeing me standing there, she screamed, “I’m gonna kill him!”
Poor Jaxon didn’t even know he’d ordered the fireworks package on this vacation. From our conversations over the years, I knew he would be over-the-moon thrilled that Natalie was pregnant again, which would only serve to fuel Natalie’s rage. He was a dead man walking.
She needed to get it all out, so I stood there silently while she continued her rant. “I’m about to have teenagers in the house! Teenagers! As in plural! Charlie is off to school in the fall! I was finally going to get a break! He’s gone all the fucking time! The smug bastard is going to be so happy. Well, guess what, buddy? I’m marching your ass in for a vasectomy, and I’m going to sit there and watch with my popcorn. See how you like it. Maybe I’ll pay them off not to numb you while they do it!”
Natalie finally stopped talking long enough to take a deep breath and dropped to the bed, placing her head between her knees. Moving to sit beside her, I locked eyes with Amy standing in the doorway to the bathroom. The pointed look on her face told me this one was all mine.
Rubbing Natalie’s back, I gave her my personal brand of comfort—humor. “I like the unmedicated vasectomy idea. Butwith your luck, he’ll be one of those guys where it grows back.” Failed birth control was quickly becoming her thing.
Feeling her shaking beneath my palm, I couldn’t tell if she was laughing or crying. At least Amy was chuckling from where she stood.
