Page 44 of The Lover
Except when you do it like that, really fast in your head… it was basically doing the opposite.
I was panicking. It was so stupid. I got out of the shower and dried off, and then I opened the cabinet doors under the sink because I wanted to get a nail clipper and trim my toenails.
I don’t even know why I paid attention to them. I mean they were always there. In any bathroom I’ve ever used.
Always pads and Tampax tampons.
But suddenly it occurred to me it was June. And I hadn’t needed them since coming home.
Then Jake knocked on the door, which pushed me past the panicking part, although I obviously didn’t do a good job of hiding it because he could clearly see I was freaked.
Fortunately I assured him I was fine, and he left quickly. Then I started doing the math. I was not a fan of math in general without a calculator, but this was girl math and the numbers added up pretty quickly in my head.
My last period was in April. Which meant I’d completely skipped May. How did I not realize that I SKIPPED MAY?
Because I wasn’t thinking about anything other than Jake. Jake and sex and dating and balance and more sex. Now it was June. Which meant I should have had my period a second time already and I didn’t.
Maybe it was a hormonal thing? All the sex and orgasms were throwing me off my normal cycle.
Okay, totally reaching.
First things first. I called Frank and told him I was sick and couldn’t come in today. I didn’t feel at all guilty, because I basically worked almost around the clock for him since taking the job.
He told me to feel better and that was that.
I knew I couldn’t go to Nash’s to get a pregnancy test. Good Lord, the whole town would know in minutes that I was knocked up.
No. Not knocked up. I wasn’t anything until a test proved otherwise.
Jefferson. It was my only option.
I got ready, ran down to my truck, and drove the hour to Jefferson. Then of course not realizing what time it was had to wait almost forty minutes outside the pharmacy until it opened. I was the first customer of the day and fortunately alone.
I made my way down the aisle almost clandestinely. Dumdeedum. Nothing to see here. I picked up three different brands of pregnancy tests, then some mouthwash and a can of hairspray to hide them.
See, just a pile of normal stuff. Nothing strange going on here. Not a thing. I stood at the counter while a seemingly nice old man rang me up.
Hairspray, check, mouthwash, check. Three pregnancy tests… check.
To his credit he didn’t say a thing. He handed me the bag, my receipt, and I was out.
The drive back to Riverbend was killer. I was practically coming out of my skin as a dozen different what-ifs ran through my mind.
Every time, I had to cut myself off. Nothing was real yet, until it was real.
I got back to my room and started chugging water from the kitchenette sink. Ten minutes later I felt confident I had enough to pee.
I did the deed, set the stick on top of the toilet tank, and left the bathroom to wait. The test said three minutes. I took my cell phone out and set the timer.
When it buzzed, I literally jumped off the bed.
Then, like a dead man walking, I made my way back to the bathroom. From the door I could see that stick was pink as shit.
Of course, it wasn’t the final result. No. I had two more tests to take. Nothing was official until all three brands were in agreement.
Eighteen hours later, because I think I read somewhere that first-thing morning pee was the best to use, I took the third test.
It was real.
