Her words hit me like a dose of cold water. I glance at the clock and see it's way too late to call Ford now.
"I'll give him a call in the morning," I tell her. "We'll see if we can work it out."
"Good girl. You're meeting Heath and I in the morning at eight, right? We're supposed to figure out how to style the mannequins."
"I'll be there. And, Vi?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks for being such a good friend to me."
"You're welcome."
I hang up the phone and head to my room. This time, when I lay my head down, I'm lulled to sleep by Ford's laugh.
Ellie
"YOU LOOK LIKE CRAP." HEATH makes a face as he breezes by me and falls dramatically in the recliner. "And I thought I was having a bad hair day."
"That key was for emergencies," I tell him. "That's the second time you've just barged in. I'm going to take it away."
"Would you rather have dragged your sorry butt off the couch? I could've knocked," he points out.
"He's been this way all day," Violet sighs, picking up my legs and sitting on the end of the sofa. She drops my feet on her lap. "How ya feeling?"
"Meh. I feel like I've been lit on fire and stomped on." Rolling over to my side, I look at Heath. "The yellow polo shirt looks good on you."
"Thanks," he grins. "I thought I looked pretty banging in it."
"Has Ford called today?" Violet asks.
I give her a look.
"He called me," she offers. "He was worried when I told him you didn't meet us this morning. I'm supposed to check in with him later. He said he had a meeting with his brothers later today."
"Can you imagine that board meeting?" Heath asks. "It's like a game of How Many Hotties Can We Fit in One Room?"
We all laugh. For the first time in the last two days, I don't feel like I'm at death's door. My stomach isn't gurgling and my head doesn't feel as stuffed with cotton.
I sniffle to be sure.
"You have the flu or what?" Violet asks. "I was in the bakery this morning and they were saying lots of people have come down with a nasty bug."
"I guess. My dad has it too. I called him a few minutes ago and he said he's been in bed since yesterday. Just feeling wiped out."
Heath adjusts in his seat. "Is that how you feel? Wiped out?"
"Does it look like I've gotten off this couch in a couple of days?" I laugh. "I just want to sleep. But on the bright side, I think I've lost five pounds."
His eyes snap to Violet's. Something, not vomit this time, rumbles in my stomach. "What?"
Violet grins at Heath. "Is it possible . . . ?"
Heath laughs. "Oh, you know it's possible, and if it's not, she doesn't deserve him!"
"What in the hell are you two talking about?" I say, scooting up on the pillow so I'm sitting.
Heath bends forward, his eyes shining. "Has it ever crossed your mind that you're pregnant?"
The vomit is back now in full force. "No," I say loudly. "I'm not pregnant."
My mouth goes dry as the acid in my stomach that was quelled just a few seconds ago is now churning like a volcano ready to erupt. I can't be pregnant. I mean, I can. I could be. Technically. But I can't. Not really. That would just . . .
"Hey," Violet says, her hand resting on my shins. "One thought at a time."
"I have the flu, guys," I insist. "It's what my dad has. I probably caught it from him or the girls in the bakery this week. I mean, I . . ."
Breathing takes effort as what feels like the entire room caves in on me. There's a franticness that I can't control, a slew of reminders of feeling this way once before hitting me in waves.
"I'm going to be sick." I leap up, holding my stomach, and race to the bathroom. As I spill the last few drinks of water into the toilet, I add in a few salty tears.
Violet takes my hair and pulls it to the side, her other hand rubbing small circles on my back. After I'm sure I'm done heaving, I look at her and laugh. It's a sad, terrified sound, more like a crazy person than her best friend.
The wall is cool as I lean on it. Violet sits beside me on the bathroom floor. She doesn't offer me advice or direction or tell me to get up and deal with whatever it is. We just sit there looking at the light blue wall.
"I have the flu," I mutter. My mouth tastes like bile and it almost makes me get sick again. My face feels swollen, puffy, and I really wish that was my biggest concern. Laughing, I look at Vi. "Funny how things put other things in perspective. Now I just wish I was worried Ford might stop by and I'd look like shit."