Then, to make matters worse, Ginger happened to call Cash when she couldn't reach me and he made the mistake of telling her where we are and why. Within thirty minutes, she's walking in, Dad is on his way and Marissa has called twice.
"Hey, it's what friends do. They tell the world when you're in an incredibly embarrassing situation so that we can all enjoy it."
"And what a friend you are!" I tell her dryly, shaking my head. It would do no good to fuss at her. She pays me no attention when it comes to stuff like this.
"So," she says, sitting in the single vinyl chair and crossing her legs, one foot swinging with carefully harnessed energy. "Who's gonna take out the bitch? Or is there a line?"
"We don't know for sure that-" I begin, only to be interrupted.
"We know for sure that she gave you some herbal shit without your permission. We know for sure that she's after your husband. We know for sure that she's a terrible mother. We know for sure that she's a lyin' snake in the grass. What more do you need?" Ginger asks.
"If those herbs are the reason Olivia is sick, you won't have to worry about who's gonna take care of her. She'll wish she'd never crossed the Georgia state line," Cash growls from beside me, his whole body tensing when he talks about her.
"If she poisoned my best friend, I'll be the-"
"Mrs. Davenport," the doctor says as he turns the corner into the room, interrupting what promised to be a Ginger-rant. It's a few seconds before he looks up from the papers he's flipping through, giving us his full attention. He smiles finally, a gentle curling of his thin lips that brightens the sharp blue eyes nestled behind his wire-rimmed glasses. Even without his badge and white lab coat, he looks the intellectual. Something about him screams brilliance. "How are you feeling?"
His question takes me by surprise. I wasn't expecting it, nor was I expecting the bit of mischief that seems to be animating his face.
"Ummm. Okay I guess. I haven't felt sick in the last little while, so that's good."
"Yes, I expect that's true. I also expect," he continues, coming to stand beside Cash and clapping a hand down on his shoulder, "that you'll feel similarly tomorrow. And the next day. And the next."
I frown. "And why is that?"
"Because you're pregnant."
No one says a word for at least a full minute. I'm in shock-elated shock, but shock nonetheless-Cash is stunned and Ginger's covering her mouth with both hands. I can still see her eyes, though, and they're watering with happiness.
My heart is thudding heavily in my chest, like it's dazed with disbelief. My brain isn't doing much better. I feel a little confused, like I might've misunderstood something. Or like there might be a camera crew waiting right outside my urgent care door, ready to reveal itself at any moment and declare that this all a big joke.
My eyeballs are the first system to flicker back online. The doctor's face, split wide into a bigger smile, blurs right before my eyes. My throat is next, clogging up so tight I feel like I've swallowed a wet sponge. "I-I'm what?"
"You're pregnant. Good and pregnant, by the looks of these hCG levels," he says, glancing back down at his paperwork again.
He proceeds to ask me a multitude of questions, like the first day of my last period and if that period was abnormal for me, shorter or lighter. I think that's about the time that Cash really digests the news because he turns around all of a sudden and pulls me into his arms. He holds me so tightly I can feel his muscles trembling.
Eventually the doctor figures out that we need a few minutes. To ourselves, with the news. As a couple. He makes a polite exit, promising to have the secretary make an appointment with my OB/GYN. As he exits, I notice that Ginger must've left right before he did because her chair is empty.
And that's the last thing I remember thinking before the door closes and my husband and I get to share the news (and the tears) that I'd begun to doubt we'd ever get to share.
It's a few short moments in my life that I'll never be able to forget, that I hope to remember vividly until the day I die.
Another thing I know I'll never forget is the way my stomach dropped when Cash's phone rang and how, when he answered it, all I could hear was Isabella.
Screaming.
CHAPTER TEN
Olivia
Cash's face turns ashen. "Isabella, what is it? What's wrong? Are you okay?" he fires in rapid succession.
I can hear her hysterical crying from my position beside Cash. "Mommm!" she finally screams, the first discernible word I've heard since he answered the phone.