Precious Lace(20)

"Tampons."

"Yea?"

"Tampons," I whispered.

"Do you need one? What's going on?"

"No, Cate, I don't need one is the problem."

"Eva, no," she trailed off and lowered herself to the floor, taking me with her. We sat cross-legged and I bent my head in my hands and fisted my hair at the scalp.

"Do you think it's stress?" I murmured. "Please dear God, let it be stress. Let it be stress. That happens right? Cate, I’m on birth control and I can't even have kids."

"Okay, chill out. You're freaking me out."

"That's because I’m freaking out, Cate! My periods are never late. Never," I screamed at her.

"Okay, okay, okay! I’ll run to the pharmacy on the corner and get a pregnancy test. Just stay here I’ll be right back."

"Get like five of them."

"Okay." She jumped up and sped out of the room.

I sat shaking my head in my hands. My stomach lurched in anxiety, except now I didn't know if it was anxiety or morning sickness. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. How could this happen? This can't be happening; I can't have kids. The doctor said it would be nearly impossible.

Nearly.

My head landed on the last word. My breathing came out in pants the more I considered the past few weeks. Carter and I were in Aspen for two weeks. By the time we left I was starting to feel sick. But we were fighting. I wasn't eating right. I was exhausted. I puked on the sidewalk on the way home. But it was an anxiety attack. That happens right? Please let it be stress induced.

Carter. I grabbed for my phone to check the clock. I needed time to process this, if indeed there was a little thing growing inside me that needed processing. It was only two o'clock, which meant I still had a few hours before he got home from work. Please don't let today be a day he comes home early from work.

Oh Jesus, I’d drunk so much wine the past few weeks. What if the little monkey had fetal alcohol syndrome? Oh my God my brain couldn't even process anything rationally anymore.

Just then I heard Cate rush back into the bedroom panting.

"Here. I got one of every brand." She tossed a bag on the floor at my feet and half a dozen pink boxes fell out. Wasn't this the sweetest image? Me sitting on the floor shaking uncontrollably with my head in my hands surrounded by pregnancy tests. A poster for abstinence that should be plastered across every high school in the country.

Please don't let Carter come home early.

"Take one, come on. I need to know if I’m going to be an aunt." Cate hauled me off the floor.

"Cate, shut up." My hands shook as I picked a box up and tried to open it.

"Here." She ripped it open and threw a test at me. I rolled my eyes at her as I went to the toilet and pulled down my jeans.

"I’m too nervous to pee." I looked up at her with terror in my eyes.

"Eva, come on," she laughed. "Just relax."

"God, what if it's positive Cate?" I whispered.

"Eva! Come on! Just pee!" Cate threw another test at my head to snap me out of my funk. I heaved a big sigh, closed my eyes and concentrated on waterfalls and warm running water. I held the stick between my legs and prayed that it was in the right position when my body relaxed enough to go. I looked up into Cate's eyes as tears streaked slowly down my cheeks.

I didn't even have words to explain to her how I was feeling. I couldn't have kids. This couldn’t be possible. My whole life I was prepared for a future without kids, so it couldn’t be the case now. I emptied my bladder and put the cap on the stick and placed it on the counter next to me before I placed my head down on my knees and sobbed.

"Eva." Cate rushed to me and flushed the toilet. "Come on, honey." She pulled me off the toilet and I pulled up my jeans and buttoned them. "Let's go lie down." She pulled me into Carter's bedroom, my bedroom, our bedroom, and lay me on the bed.

"Whatever that test says in there it's going to be okay, Eva." She smoothed her palm on my back as I lay face first with my head in a pillow.

"I don't even know what I want it to say, Cate. How messed up is that?" I sobbed some more as the knot in my throat released and tears came pouring out. "I’m not supposed to be able to have kids. Carter and I... God, he drives me insane!" I sobbed harder. "But a baby? A little baby… what if he or she has Carter's hair? Or his beautiful eyes? God Cate, can I raise a baby? What kind of mom would I be? What kind of dad would Carter be?" My voice rose at the end. Carter's issues with control—how would he be with a little toddler tornado drawing on the walls and puking on his leather furniture?

And then I remembered what he'd told me in Aspen. That his dad had left. How it had torn his heart out. I knew Carter wouldn't leave. He would never do that to his own child. Would he?