Page 92 of Midnight Valentine
I clear my throat again, wanting to die. “I don’t.”
We stare at each other. I see it the instant she makes the connection. She says softly, “I’m so sorry.”
The sympathy in her eyes is excruciating. “Ancient history,” I say, my voice cracking.
“Well, you’re still young. I mean, it’s not too late…”
She trails off, unsure, probably because I look so miserable. I draw a breath and square my shoulders. “Are you having any food cravings yet?”
“Ugh. No. I can barely keep anything down at this point.”
The pharmacist calls the first person in line to the counter, and the rest of us shuffle forward. “Have saltines and seltzer water. Fresh ginger brewed into tea also. And make sure you take prenatal vitamins. That’s really important.”
“Thanks,” says Colleen gently.
Jesus. She looks like she wants to give me a hug.
But the line moves forward again, sparing me. Colleen and I stand in awkward silence for a few moments until she makes an unexpected confession.
“Honestly, it’s not so much the morning sickness I’m worried about. It’s telling my boyfriend.”
Boyfriend? Suzanne said Colleen was still pining after Theo. “I take it this is an unexpected development in your relationship?”
She sighs, twirling a lock of dark hair between her fingers. “Yeah. And it’s a brand-new relationship too, so…”
So we’ve got some major baby-mama drama. “Do you think he’ll be okay with it?”
The twist of her lips is less than confident. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t describe him as a family man. He’s obsessed with his work. This is the first time he’s ever really been in a relationship. Honestly, he’s not what I would have thought of as my type.” Her laugh is quiet. “I guess I’m just attracted to contractors.”
A thunderbolt blasts through the roof and strikes me with
a million volts of supercharged electricity. “Contractors?”
Blushing, she smiles dreamily at me. “Yeah. He owns Capstone Construction out in Portland. His name’s Craig.”
I’m so stunned, I can’t speak. I stare at Colleen in dismay, which she must take as interest because she keeps talking, her voice dropping to a just-between-us-girls tone.
“He took me to a really lovely hotel last Friday. It was the first time he told me he loved me.”
Last Friday was the night he took me to dinner and propositioned me. Since then, he’s tried calling me every day, though I’ve avoided answering.
I’d like to keep my balls, he said when I threatened him with my butter knife. If things go the way I hope they will, we’re going to need them.
I should’ve neutered that strutting rooster when I had the chance.
Anger hardens my voice. “You know, Colleen, I wouldn’t worry about telling him. In fact, I wouldn’t worry about him at all. Concentrate on yourself, on whatever makes you feel good, on whatever’s good for the baby. He should be worried about losing you, not the other way around. And if he acts like a dick when you tell him about the baby”—which he definitely will—“drop him like a hot potato and get on with your life. You’re too good to put up with any bullshit.”
Colleen looks startled by my vehement little speech.
Without turning around, Nosey Parker says loudly, “Amen.”
I dig a piece of paper and a pen from my handbag, scribble my number on it, and give it to Colleen. “If you ever need to talk, call me. I’m a really good listener.”
“That’s so sweet. Thank you, Megan.”
She looks surprised, like she can’t believe the girl the whole town is gabbing about could be so nice. The line moves forward again, and soon it’s Colleen’s turn. Before she steps up to the register, she gives me the quick, awkward hug I was dreading, her basket poking into my chest.
“And if you ever need to talk, you can call me too,” she says softly. “Suzanne has my number. I mean it, anytime.”
