Page 41 of The Rebound
Stupid period. Stupid period and stupid period emotions. I would have been able to keep my cool and set him straight if it weren’t for my ridiculous hormones.
Tears prick my eyes as I turn onto my street but at least the painkillers have started to kick in, my cramps now a dull throb as I hurry up the driveway.
“Abby?” Louise calls from the kitchen as I run up the stairs. “Is that you?”
“It’s me,” I yell. “Do you have any tampons?”
“In my room. Second drawer in the dresser.”
I almost go into her old bedroom, now converted into an office, before I spin around and head to the master bedroom at the front of the house.
She’s repainted it since Mam and Dad left and moved the bed around so it faces the window. My parent’s ancient closet that used to take up so much space has been thrown out along with the wobbly bureau. Now an IKEA dresser sits in the corner next to a floor-length mirror and Tomasz’s dumbbells.
I crack open the drawer, feeling a headache forming as I reach inside.
Breakdown. I’m not having a breakdown. I havelists. Lists and aplan. This is my plan! I didn’t say anything about it being a good one, I just…
I lose track of my rant as I stare down at the slim cardboard box in my hands.
Confused, I pull the drawer open fully, peering inside to see a dozen more just like it, rattling about with spare batteries and a pair of sunglasses.
Not tampons.
Pregnancy tests.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I jump as Louise marches into the room, her face pale. “That’s private.”
“Sorry,” I say as she snatches the box from me. “I didn’t mean to snoop.”
“Then don’t. I said the second drawer.”
“I’m sorry,” I repeat, baffled by her attitude. It’s not exactly shocking news; she and Tomasz have been married for years. “I didn’t know you two were trying.”
“Well, we are.” She drops the box back inside, something almost like doubt flickering across her face. “We’ve been trying for a while.”
Oh.
Oh.
She waits for me to say something and I wait too, because even as I feel a rush of understanding, of concern for her, nothing comes out.
I don’t know what to say.
And she knows it.
With a final scowl, she opens the second drawer and takes out a box of tampons, shoving it into my hands.
“You smell like an alleyway,” she says, and storms out of the room.
9
“It’s not good, Abby. Mike says they’ve got him on contract work.”
Jess’s glistening face bobs in and out of the screen as she walks on the treadmill, her breathing loud but controlled. “You made a good move turning down that Marshall’s role.”
“I didn’t turn it down. I wasn’t offered anything.”
“I know, I was being nice.”
