Once I’m home, I tear into one of the little cardboard boxes. The instructions flutter to the floor, and my hands are shaking so much it takes me three attempts to pick them back up.
It takes every ounce of my focus to process the words, but fortunately, it’s a pretty simple process. Remove cap from stick, pee on stick, wait and see.
Although the “wait and see” part is easier said than done, and those two minutes are the longest of my life.
A million thoughts race through my head in that time, and all I want to do is call Corey and Andrei and share this with them. But the current weirdness between us keeps me from reaching out.
And then what about Todd? My heart feels like it’s been slammed in a car door when I realize that a positive almost certainly means the end of my relationship with him. What guy is going to stick around to raise another man’s baby with a girl he barely knows? And that’s not even factoring in the rest of my baggage.
But I remind myself that none of that matters. My whole plan was to do this alone, without a man, right? Now it’s time to step up and stay the course.
I glance at the clock and see that my two minutes are up. But now, suddenly, I can’t bring myself to look.
It takes me a few deep breaths to collect myself, picking up the test with my eyes screwed shut. “Okay,” I tell myself, “One…two…three.”
Chapter Eleven
Todd
Ring…Ring…
The third ring is cut off. “Hello?”
“Hey, Marlene,” I greet her, “So I found out that Greek place I was going to take you to tonight is closed for renovations, so I was wondering what else you might want to try.”
“Um, I think I’m actually going to have to take a rain check, Todd, I’m sorry, I was about to call you,” she says.
I hadn’t noticed in the greeting, but her voice is shaky and rough. “What’s going on?” I ask her, “Are you okay?”
“I’m not feeling too great,” she says, “Just need some rest and whatnot.”
“Oh, man, I’m sorry, that sucks. I hope you get to feeling better. Can I do anything for you?”
Silence crackles over the line for a moment, and when she speaks again, there’s a little waver in her voice. “You’re really sweet to offer, Todd, but no, I’ll be okay.”
My brow furrows. She sure as hell doesn’t sound okay. She sounds miserable, and I hate not being able to do anything for her. “Well, the offer stands, all right?” I tell her, “You need anything, you call me.”
“I will,” she promises, and after bidding me goodbye, she hangs up.
I stare at the phone in my hand with a deep frown carved on my face. I know she said she didn’t need anything, but it’s like an itch under my skin, feeling so helpless, and I find myself heading out to the grocery store.
I’m sure she’s got actual medicine covered, but I find a little “Get Well Soon” bear and balloon. I grab those, plus a little wicker basket. I flesh out my little care package with a can of chicken noodle soup, a box of crackers, Gatorade, and on a whim, a package of butterscotch pudding. She used to bring it in her lunches all the time, and while I can’t say for sure if it still is, I know it at least used to be her favorite.
It’s nothing, honestly, twenty bucks of sick-day goodies, but if it’s enough to put a smile on her face, it’s something.
So once I get out to my care, I assemble all the stuff in the basket, peeling off tags and such, and then head for Marlene’s address. When I pull up, I collect the basket and get out, making my way to the front door.
My first impulse is to ring the doorbell until it occurs to me that she’s probably resting. So instead, I knock gently on the door, figuring if she’s up and answers, I can just give her the basket, and if not, I can leave it on her porch and send her a text.
I see a figure approaching through the distorted glass of the decorative little window in the door, and after a moment, it swings open. “Todd, what are you-”
“I know you aren’t feeling well, so I’m not going to stay and bug you, I just wanted to drop this off for you,” I tell her, offering her the basket, with the cute little stuffed bear right in the front.
I’m expecting, hoping for, a smile, but the reaction I get is both the last thing I wanted and the last thing I anticipated. Marlene bursts into tears.
And not just some little trickles down her cheeks, either, she breaks down into full-blown sobs. “Whoa, hey, I’m sorry, did I do something wrong?” I ask, alarmed, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”
The words only seem to make her cry harder. She can’t speak, but she shakes her head, and I’m confused by the response. “Come here, hey, it’s okay,” I croon gently, leading her inside and sitting down with her on the couch, an arm wrapped around her.