Page 52 of Four Tattoos

“Well, that’s really great.” My voice is heavy with sarcasm as tears start to fall. I feel certain that the men would have mentioned it if a condom broke or slipped off, and even though I was often carried away by pleasure when I was with them, I was always aware that they were using protection. Pregnancy prevention wasn’t something I took lightly.

So much for that.

“I’m here for you,” Callie says. “I can help with whatever you need. Will your partners be supportive, too?” She asks this in such a gentle way—so different from her usual lively tone—and I’m hit with a fresh wave of tears.

“They just broke up with me!”

Callie’s eyes are wide as she rubs my back some more. “How about your family?”

I shake my head. “This is horrible, so horrible. My brother didn’t even know I was seeing the men, and when he found out, he lectured me and told them off. He’ll kill me, and maybe them too, when he finds out I’m pregnant.”

When Callie makes soothing sounds to try to calm me, I realize I’m crying even harder.

“Who are these men?” she asks.

“I met them while I was making deliveries for my brother’s coffee shop. They’re tattoo artists. Have you heard of Brothers in Ink?”

“That’s where I got my tattoo!” Callie says. “Those guys are great, even though they come off pretty surly. Which ones were you seeing?”

I shake my head and let it drop into my hands. “All of them.”

Her voice is filled with awe when she says, “All? There are …four of them, right?”

I nod, looking up at her through my tear-filled eyes.

“Do you know which one is the father?”

I shake my head and reach for another tissue from the box on the counter.

Callie hesitates and then asks, “Do each of the men know you were with the other men?”

At least I finally have a positive answer for her. “Yes, we were all together. I was seeing all of them.”

Her eyes, which were already fairly big, go wider still, and I can tell she’s imagining this, and it makes me sad on top of the panic and fear I’m feeling, because I miss them so much.

There’s a knock at the door again; it’s Brittany checking in.

When Callie opens the door for her, Brittany starts to ask about the test, but she changes course after getting only a few words out. “I can tell by your faces what the results are.” She steps in and hugs me with a comforting strength. “It’ll be okay.”

For some reason, her assurance only makes me more upset. “They don’t want anything to do with me. They broke up with me, and I just moved into my own place.”

I rub my hands over my face. “I have a lease now, and car insurance, and all kinds of expenses that I’m working two jobs to cover. There’s no way I can afford a baby, and who’s going to take care of the baby while I’m working so much?”

I’m spiraling, and it’s getting hard to breathe again.

Brittany brushes my hair back from my face and makes me look her in the eyes. “It will be okay,” she says firmly. “Sure, it’s not what you were planning or expecting, but it happens to millions of women, and you will get through it.”

She keeps looking at me until I nod. I try my best to stop crying, or at least slow the tears down to a trickle. I blow my nose and nod again, even managing to give her a faint smile.

“Trust me, it’ll work out,” she says.

I want to believe her. I really, really do.

40

ROSE

Somehow, I make it through the night. Brittany tells me I can go home, but she’s already helped me so much, and I don’t want to leave her short-handed.

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