Nosey Parker shoots me a disapproving glare over her shoulder. I need to deflect the conversation away from me before I completely crack. “Anyway, how are you?”
Colleen’s face takes on a dreamy, secret expression. She looks down at the basket in her arms and smiles. “I’m good, thanks.”
I glance into her basket, see the pregnancy test kit, and want to vomit.
Colleen laughs softly, her cheeks going pink. “This is the fourth one I’ve bought. I have an appointment at the doctor in a few days to confirm what these things are telling me, but I just can’t seem to stop taking them.” She glances at me under her lashes, her blue eyes sparkling. “I’ve always wanted to be a mother.”
Me too. “Congratulations.” My voice has lost all its animation and now sounds dead.
Nosey Parker leans in again. “In my day, if a woman got pregnant without being married, it wasn’t a cause for congratulations.”
Colleen and I both whirl on her and shout, “Mind your business!”
When the woman turns around with her nose in the air, Colleen lets out an exasperated huff that tells me she expects this won’t be the first time she’ll be on the receiving end of narrow-minded judgment from the womenfolk of Seaside. It makes me feel kinder toward her, and a little protective.
I clear my throat and try to sound like anything other than a woman standing out on a narrow ledge. “How bad is your morning sickness?”
“Pretty bad,” she admits, making a face.
“That’s good.”
She blinks at me, surprised. “It is?”
“Yeah. It’s a sign your hormone levels are high. I had it really bad too.” Shocked by my admission, I bite my tongue.
Colleen draws her dark brows together into a quizzical frown. “Oh, I didn’t know you have children.”
I clear my throat again, wanting to die. “I don’t.”
We stare at each other. I see it the instant she makes the connection. She says softly, “I’m so sorry.”
The sympathy in her eyes is excruciating. “Ancient history,” I say, my voice cracking.
“Well, you’re still young. I mean, it’s not too late…”
She trails off, unsure, probably because I look so miserable. I draw a breath and square my shoulders. “Are you having any food cravings yet?”
“Ugh. No. I can barely keep anything down at this point.”
The pharmacist calls the first person in line to the counter, and the rest of us shuffle forward. “Have saltines and seltzer water. Fresh ginger brewed into tea also. And make sure you take prenatal vitamins. That’s really important.”
“Thanks,” says Colleen gently.
Jesus. She looks like she wants to give me a hug.
But the line moves forward again, sparing me. Colleen and I stand in awkward silence for a few moments until she makes an unexpected confession.
“Honestly, it’s not so much the morning sickness I’m worried about. It’s telling my boyfriend.”
Boyfriend? Suzanne said Colleen was still pining after Theo. “I take it this is an unexpected development in your relationship?”
She sighs, twirling a lock of dark hair between her fingers. “Yeah. And it’s a brand-new relationship too, so…”
So we’ve got some major baby-mama drama. “Do you think he’ll be okay with it?”
The twist of her lips is less than confident. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t describe him as a family man. He’s obsessed with his work. This is the first time he’s ever really been in a relationship. Honestly, he’s not what I would have thought of as my type.” Her laugh is quiet. “I guess I’m just attracted to contractors.”
A thunderbolt blasts through the roof and strikes me with a million volts of supercharged electricity. “Contractors?”
Blushing, she smiles dreamily at me. “Yeah. He owns Capstone Construction out in Portland. His name’s Craig.”
I’m so stunned, I can’t speak. I stare at Colleen in dismay, which she must take as interest because she keeps talking, her voice dropping to a just-between-us-girls tone.
“He took me to a really lovely hotel last Friday. It was the first time he told me he loved me.”
Last Friday was the night he took me to dinner and propositioned me. Since then, he’s tried calling me every day, though I’ve avoided answering.
I’d like to keep my balls, he said when I threatened him with my butter knife. If things go the way I hope they will, we’re going to need them.
I should’ve neutered that strutting rooster when I had the chance.
Anger hardens my voice. “You know, Colleen, I wouldn’t worry about telling him. In fact, I wouldn’t worry about him at all. Concentrate on yourself, on whatever makes you feel good, on whatever’s good for the baby. He should be worried about losing you, not the other way around. And if he acts like a dick when you tell him about the baby”—which he definitely will—“drop him like a hot potato and get on with your life. You’re too good to put up with any bullshit.”