Her Billionaires(115)
Carrying a tall glass of water with bubbles, Josie reappeared. “Drink this.” Laura didn’t want to obey, but she did anyhow. There was a tone in Josie’s voice, the professional nurse giving medical aid and taking no shit. Do this because it’s good for you.#p#分页标题#e#
Because I said so.
With crossed arms, Josie watched guard over her, as if Laura’s not drinking the sparkling water would constitute a personal affront. The first sip was almost painful, then the next easier. About halfway through the glass she felt an enormous bubble fill her throat, the resulting belch so unladylike she might have roused a standing ovation from a group of truck drivers in a roadhouse bar.
Josie’s polite golf clap didn’t quite cut it. “Feel better?”
To her surprise, Laura said, “Yes.” And she did. The nausea wasn’t gone, the exhaustion was still so all-pervasive she could feel it in her bones, like poured, wet concrete seeking a low point. But the cloud of doom and sickeningly sour stomach was alleviated, even if fleetingly.
The look on Josie’s face gave Laura pause. Her friend looked ten years younger, more like when they’d met, hair pulled back and face scrubbed of make-up, though her long fingernails remained, this time designed to look like hot dogs.
“Hot dogs?” she said, pointing to Josie’s hands. Even saying the name of the food made her stomach lurch.
“I saw the Oscar Mayer Weinermobile and got inspired.”
“Is that a nickname for the guy you’re dating?”
Smirk. “She feels better!” Josie announced to Snuggles, who poked his head out from under the bed and popped it right back, terrified.
Sip. Deep breath. Squint. “Yeah. Just barely.”
“Some flat ginger ale and saltines might help, too.” Wary and watching, the words poured out of Josie’s mouth like a string of curses, the words foreign and unreal.
“You think I’m—what?—you’re crazy— no way!” Nausea returned in a giant tidal wave, her body twisting to the side to retch into a strategically-placed bowl on the ground. Orange. Everything that came up was orange. It made her vomit more, blood vessels bursting on her face, the rolling contempt of the muscles needed to empty her stomach making this all-the-more difficult.
“How long have you been doing that?” Josie asked dispassionately, stepping closer to pull Laura’s hair back as she blew chunks. A box of tissues nearby were within reach; Laura grabbed one and furiously dabbed her lips.
“On and off for the past week. I swear, Josie. Flu.”
“You have a fever?”
“No.”
“Muscle and joint pain?”
“No.”
“When was your last period?”
“I am not your patient!” Fear and dread crept through her, giving her chills. She hadn’t let herself go there. It’s not that the idea hadn’t occurred to her—it most certainly had, especially when the nausea became so middle-grade and pervasive, lifting only late at night. She was on the pill, though, and while she’d stupidly gone bare, not asking the guys to wear condoms, she’d never worried about this. She was on the pill, right?
But there was that one day, Laura, a voice whispered, low and mean. One day.
No! It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours! She’d just forgotten. That wasn’t enough, right?
“No. You’re not. You’re my best friend in a shitty situation with those two assholes and now it looks like it’s taken a turn no one expected.” Kind and restrained, Josie’s voice was simultaneously soothing and frightening. The implications of what she was suggesting were appalling. If she were—if this was— should she actually be—then this was like combining a Jerry Springer show with a Maury Povich paternity episode, all written by Dr. Drew and Judd Apatow.
In other words, a clusterfuck of unimaginable proportions. Because who was the father?
“It’s not what you think,” was all Laura could croak out. Josie handed her the sparkling water and each sip seemed to renew her. “Can we talk about anything else?”
“Oh, like the royal baby?”
“Shut up. Where’s Nice Josie? I’d like her back.”
“Nice Josie is about five seconds away from running to CVS for a few pregnancy tests.”
“NO!” Her harsh tone shocked them both. “NO! I said it’s not that.”
Nice Josie made an appearance, sitting on the bed and taking Laura’s hand in hers, kind eyes measuring her. “OK, OK, I’ll respect whatever you want. But maybe I’ll just appear and make you pee on a stick.”