Page 50 of Four Tattoos

I was so excited to have my own place, but I can no longer muster up any happy feelings about it. The apartment only seems to emphasize how alone I am.

I do my best to put on what I hope is a pleasant expression as women stream into Club Red. All of them are laughing and smiling, so excited to see the show, and it only makes me feel worse.

As the crowd finally starts to thin, Callie comes rushing in, clutching her purse and a white plastic bag from a retail store. “I’m so late. Brittany’s going to kill me!”

“Are you okay?” It’s not Callie’s style to care about being late, but she’s flustered this evening.

“I’m fine. I just had to run into a drugstore on the way here. I completely forgot my period was coming today, and I literally felt it start as I was driving in.” She scrunches her face, grimacing. “Sorry. TMI.”

“It’s okay,” I say, waving a hand to dismiss her apology, but even as I’m doing that, a bad feeling starts to come over me. “I’m glad you got it taken care of. Tell Brittany what happened. She’ll understand.”

“I hope so. Okay, gotta go.” She’s already halfway down the hall toward the restroom after giving me a wave.

Two giggling women step up to the counter to buy tickets, and as I’m handling their transaction, a realization hits me like a bucket of ice water dumped on my head.

My period.

I can’t remember when I had my last one, but it was definitely more than a month ago.

39

ROSE

Ididn’t think my emotional distress could get any worse, but apparently I was very wrong. My heart races as I think back over my recent menstrual history. The only thing I know for certain is that I haven’t had a period since I started seeing the men.

How convenient.

How terrifying.

I’m overdue. By several weeks.

It feels like all of the oxygen’s been pushed from my lungs, and I’m having a hard time taking a breath to refill them. I hand the woman her receipt and grip the counter as soon as the pair walks off.

Breathe. Breathe.

I manage a small lungful, but I’m reeling with dizziness. It takes a moment to realize that Brittany’s standing right in front of me, her face pinched in concern. “Rose, are you okay?”

“I … I …”

“What’s the matter? Did something happen?” She spins around to scan the lobby and the entrance, looking for signs of foul play, as if there might be a person nearby who did something to me.

I get in another breath, a little deeper this time, and then exhale my fears in a rush. “I’m afraid I might be pregnant.” The confession flies out of my mouth as if I have no control over it.

Shit,I didn’t mean to say that out loud. I’m at work, and Brittany’s my boss, and I’ve just blurted out my personal business, and saying it makes it feel that much more real.

Brittany’s features soften immediately. “Oh, shit. I’m assuming this isn’t something you were planning for?”

I shake my head quickly, despite the dizziness.

“Have you taken a test?”

Again, I shake my head. “No, I haven’t. I only just realized. I haven’t gotten my period in a long time.”

“Well, cycles can be irregular for a lot of different reasons, like stress or illness.”

I nod, numbly. I haven’t been ill, and my stress only started yesterday.

Brittany looks around the lobby, which is thankfully empty. “Tell you what. The show’s just started and things are going smoothly. I’ll run out and pick up a test, so you can find out for sure. Otherwise, you’re going to worry yourself sick.”

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