Chapter 19: Forgot To Tell You Something: Chapter 19

It’s been one hell of a morning, and I’ve yet to have coffee.

My father had another rough night. I received the message first thing, minutes after Owen left. I was tempted to call and beg him to come with me, but he has a business lunch that I don’t want to interrupt. So, I dial my ride or die, and as always, Stefani is by my side within the hour.

Thankfully, my father has rallied by the time we arrive, so we enjoy a quick visit and then head for a late breakfast. My stomach isn’t on board with this decision, but my brain convinces the other organ that eating is a necessity and not a luxury.

“Are you going to look at it or eat it?” Stefani asks, pointing her fork toward my plate.

“I’m working on it.”

“You know you’re not sick, right?”

“There is the possibility that it’s a stomach virus.” I stare at my omelet in a futile attempt to rein in my swirling gut.

“Unlikely, considering no one else has this pernicious virus.” Stefani shoots me a knowing glance. That’s the third one since the start of breakfast. “What does Owen say?”

“About a stomach virus?” At her glare, I release a resigned huff. “I haven’t told him. I don’t know if there’s anything tell him.”

“Lu, you’re going to have to get a test. Eventually, the world will know if you’re pregnant. You can’t hide eight months of baby.”

“Sure you can. Look at some of the people on Jerry Springer—went to the bathroom, popped out a kid.”

“I wouldn’t use that as my control group.”

She’s right. I know she’s right. But I’m also scared shitless. I’ve known Owen for two months, and even though our relationship is back on track, I doubt he planned on becoming a father when he moved to Florida.

“I think he’ll be fine with the news. Honestly, give the guy a little credit.”

I narrow my gaze at my friend. “This is the same man who lied about being a doctor. I’m taking it slowly this time.”

Stefani nods, but she knows it’s total crap. With Owen, I lack willpower. Of any variety. He’s also beseeching me to move into his oceanfront condo. I don’t know how many more times I can use Hecate as an excuse, particularly when he’s got the rooftop garden all set up for her arrival. The cat is going to have such a life—totally deserved, of course.

“Does that mean you’ve shelved the idea of moving in with Owen? No offense, Lu, your landlord is lovely, but I’m certain Owen’s digs are far superior.”

“I can’t just up and leave Mrs. Smalls. She counts on my rent money. My lease is up in a month, so I figured I’ll discuss it with her, and then move in with Owen…if we haven’t killed each other first.”

It’s a good plan. A solid, well-thought-out plan. Owen and I rushed headlong into loving each other and look where that got us. Correction. Look where that got me.

Stefani drops some cash on the table before grabbing my hand and hustling me back to her SUV. “Let’s get this over with. I need to know if you can go out drinking tonight.”

I stop dead in my tracks, digging in my heels like a mountain goat. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t be dense. You know what I mean.”

“I’m not ready yet.”

She turns to me, grasping my shoulders. “My sweet friend, no one is ever ready for a baby. But I guarantee you will be the coolest mother on the block.”

“I’ll be the most single mother on the block,” I mutter, climbing into the passenger seat, my shoulders hunched.

“No, you won’t. That hot hunk of a doctor is going to put a ring on it so fast, your head will spin.”

I grunt in response. It’s the best comeback I’ve got at the moment.

I trudge through the drugstore, spending almost a hundred bucks on a basketful of tests. I don’t think I have that much urine in my damn body.

Okay, I likely do. Peeing has become my new favorite pastime, aside from chronic vomiting.

I am the definition of a hot mess.

Stefani pulls up to her house, handing me the bag. I love her home. It’s an old Craftsman-style bungalow, and I hope one day to afford a similar place with a stained-glass entry window.

Unless Owen and I get married.

I pause by the bathroom door, my fingers tightening around the bag.

“Open the boxes, Lu. They don’t work via osmosis.” Stefani is so helpful. And impatient. I get it. She wants to know if her best friend is having a baby. Her best friend, on the other hand, isn’t sure to feel.

I flip her the bird, grab the menagerie of pregnancy tests and shut myself in the bathroom. Turns out, I have no issue using all those tests. Hey, no one can call me a quitter.

I stand over the sink, uncertain what the hell I’m supposed to be hoping for.

Do I want a baby? Do I want a baby with Owen? Do I want a baby now on top of everything else I’m juggling?

The instructions state that the tests take three to five minutes. In my case, it takes less than sixty seconds. There are blue lines and plus signs everywhere. Even a couple that scream out pregnant, in case my feeble brain can’t figure out how to read the other ones.

Stefani pops her head into the bathroom. “Did you take all the tests?” she inquires.

At least, I think that’s what she said. I’m so lost in my thoughts that all I hear is garbled noise.

I maintain my focus on the tests, gripping the edge of the sink so tight I’m shocked the ceramic hasn’t cracked.

“Are you listening to a word I’ve said?”

“Tallulah!”

I jerk my head up to meet her piercing gaze, forcing my thoughts away from the little blue line that’s forever changed life as I know it. “What?”

“Did you take the—” The question dies in her throat as she sees the collection of tests. “Knew it. Okay, it’s going to be fine.”

I don’t know that it’s going to be fine. In truth, I’m not sure what the hell to do now. Even though I knew I was pregnant before, this validates every fear. I gaze at my belly. It’s still flat, no signs of life anywhere, save for the omelet that will soon vacate the premises. “I’m pregnant.”

Stefani hugs my shoulders, but it offers little comfort. “You’re pregnant. I guess I have to find someone else to hang out with at Wicked Chucks.”

“Why would you hang at Wicked Chucks without me? Oh…” I grin, gathering up the tests and chucking them in the trash. “You miss Dan.”

I always know when Stefani is avoiding a topic. She looks everywhere but my direction. “Believe it or not, I like Wicked Chucks.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“Why not?”

I smirk. “Because don’t like Wicked Chucks. It’s a total dive. I just love the music. That and Dan is easy on the eyes. Didn’t think he’d be your type, though. At least not for anything long-term.”

“He’s not my type. He treats women with respect. I find that very enticing.”

“Dan is a hell of a guy.” I try to bite back my smile. Time to mess with my best friend—just a bit. “If I were you, I wouldn’t wait to scoop him up. Tons of women have a thing for him.”

I’m not lying. Dan is very popular with the ladies, but I also know that he’s had eyes for Stefani since they met. But what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t up the ante a bit? Her look of horror tells me all I need to know. She’ll be stopping by to visit the comely bartender soon.

Stefani shakes her head in disgust. Jealousy is rare with my friend, but when it strikes, it’s potent. “Enough about Dan. When are you going to talk to Owen?”

I shrug. That’s an answer, right?

Apparently, not a good enough answer for my ride or die. “Lu, you need to tell him.”

“Those pregnancy tests aren’t 100% effective.”

“Sure, all of them malfunctioned. All of them.”

She’s got a point, and I don’t have a leg to stand on in this argument. “I’m seeing Owen tonight. He promised me this delicious dinner and a bubble bath.”

“God, I hate you,” Stefani huffs, but she doesn’t mean it. She’s thrilled that I’ve found someone. Now, the trick is keeping him after he discovers he has some potent swimmers.

“He said he had to talk to me about something.”

Stefani claps her hands. “He’s going to propose!”

I shake my head. “Owen is not proposing. I’m not sure what it’s about, but now, we have two topics to discuss.”

“Someone’s getting married,” Stefani sings in an off-key voice, as I lob a hand towel at her head.

I want to ignore her banter, but part of me wonders if he might ask me to marry him. He has been bugging me to move in, so marriage is the next logical step. Right?

Maybe then, the baby wouldn’t be an unwelcome surprise. Resting my hand on my stomach, I realize that for me, this baby is a gift, even if that isn’t the case for Owen.

He swore he wouldn’t run in the opposite direction if I was pregnant. Let’s see if he’s a man of his word.

I wander around my apartment for the better part of the afternoon, trying to figure out how to tell Owen about the baby.

Should I act all cutesy, buying a ton of baby vegetables to go with dinner? Pick up a t-shirt that says, World’s Best Dad? Just once, I wish I could pull off sappy, but it’s not in my wheelhouse.

I glance at the clock. It’s just after four. I know he said seven, but I can’t wait any longer. I grab my keys, drop a kiss on Hecate’s head, and bound out the door.

Next stop—Owen.

I send off a quick text, just in case his business meeting ran late.