“Thanks,” I squeak out. I barely make it out to my car in time before I burst into tears. The ultrasound pictures and the little card with the date of my next appointment are clutched in my right hand. I’m so confused, so conflicted, and I don’t know what to do.
I don’t want to get rid of this baby by any means, but I don’t want to raise a child on my own. I can’t. I work full time, and I’m going to go back to school eventually. If not, I wouldn’t even be able to support a child on my income alone. I didn’t become a vet tech for the paycheck, that’s for sure.
I inhale and force myself to stop crying, carefully folding the ultrasound pictures and putting them in my purse. I wipe my eyes, back out of the parking space, and head home. Katie calls me when I pull onto my street. I don’t answer. I don’t want to tell her.
But I have to eventually. She’s bound to notice when I start getting a baby bump … and when I show up to family holidays with a crying kid in my arms. I can’t put it off forever.
I wait until I’m in my garage to call her back.
“Hey, lady,” she says, cheerful as ever. “Want to do something tonight? Wes got mandated at work and I’m bored and alone. Disney movies and booze at my place?”
“Katie,” I start, voice flat.
“Yeah?”
“Can you come over instead? I … I need to talk to you.”
“Way to sound ominous, sis. Don’t be so lame about staying out and leaving your dogs. They are dogs. They’ll be fine.”
“It’s not that,” I say and it takes all I have not to start sobbing again. “Please, Katie?”
“You’re freaking me out now, Lauren. What’s going on?”
“I’ll tell you when you get here, okay?” My voice is high pitched and trembling.
“Okay. I’ll be right over. Do you need anything?”
Oh lord, do I. “No, just to talk to you.”
“Okay.” She’s shaken up, I can tell. At least she won’t waste time getting here. I go inside and change out of my Tinkerbell scrubs, putting on PJs. Katie lives fifteen minutes away, and she walks through my door not even twenty minutes after we hung up.
“Lauren?” she calls from the small foyer. “Where are you?”
I’m in the kitchen, and I’m scared to go to her, to tell her the truth. Should I tell Noah before I tell my sister? This child is half of me and half of him. Does that make him entitled to know first?
“Lauren?” Katie calls again. “You’re freaking me out! Where are you?”
“In the kitchen,” I say. “Letting the dogs in.”
I open the back door and both dogs come in running, wildly greeting my sister. I meekly follow behind them.
“What the hell?” Katie asks when she sees me. My eyes are still red and puffy from crying. I hold my hand behind my back, keeping the ultrasound pictures out of sight. “What happened?”
I swallow the lump in my throat. I just need to come out and say it. Then my big sis can hug me and tell me that things are going to be all right.
“Sit down,” I say and look at the couch.
Katie steps out of her purple Toms and unzips her jacket. “Okay, tell me right now, because you’re seriously scaring me.”
“I’m scared,” I say, not meaning to put fuel on the fire. Tears fill my eyes and I take a few steps back and plop onto the couch. Katie rushes over.
“What is it, Lauren? Do you have cancer or something?” Her eyes mist over. It wasn’t that long ago that our mom had a cancer scare. We’re all sensitive to it.
“No, I don’t.”
“Then what the hell is wrong?”
Fat tears roll down my cheeks. “I messed up,” I start, choking up. “I … I … It was one night.”