There was some part of her – very small and very distant and oh-so-very quiet – that recognized that she was spiraling into some sort of depression. She’d never been one to be depressed before. There was just too much to do and see and experience and learn. She loved life.

She just didn’t happen to love life right now. Or, more specifically, love the idea of giving birth to life.

At least, not at the moment. It just wasn’t part of the plan. She’d always believed she’d become a mother…someday. She would marry a handsome guy and they’d have 2.5 kids and a house with a white picket fence and she’d be happy and fulfilled in her Unnamed Career doing Unnamed Things.

Just because she was 22 and hadn’t figured out what that Unnamed Career was, let alone what those Unnamed Things would be, didn’t mean she was a failure.

But the fact that she was pregnant, single, and homeless probably did.

She snuggled back down underneath the covers. She was so tired. So very, very tired. She’d get up in a minute. Maybe eat breakfast. Hell, maybe even brush her teeth. That’d be true progress.

But…not for another minute. She needed her rest. She was carrying another human inside of her, after all. That sort of thing was exhausting. She couldn’t be expected to be Superwoman, right?

She was drifting in and out, the world a hazy blob around her, when she heard a knock on her bedroom door. She sat up slowly, blinking owlishly at the door. “Co–come in,” she croaked out. She cleared her throat. Why was it so hard to talk? She tried to remember what she’d last said to her mom, but the days had slipped by like water down a mountain stream, and she couldn’t remember what she’d said, or when she’d said it.

The world had turned into this murky, indistinct disaster zone, and Kylie couldn’t keep straight what she’d actually done versus what had happened in her dreams. Which should freak her out but she was too tired to freak out. She’d worry about it later. Maybe after another nap.

Her mom popped her head around the door, surprising Kylie. She’d already forgotten about the knock on the door. Her mom sent an overly bright smile at Kylie even as her eyes said, “Danger ahead!” Even through her sleepy eyes, Kylie caught the look that spelled trouble. It was the same one her mom had given her in high school, right before sitting her down and lecturing her about getting B’s in her classes, when she could be getting A’s.

Ah. Back when life was so much simpler.

Kylie tried to plaster a happy look on her face. “Hi, Mom!” she said, a touch bit too cheerfully. She cleared her throat again. It was strangely hard to talk. “What’s…what’s going on?” She ran her fingers through her hair, hoping to straighten it out, but she hit a few too many snarls and knots, and gave up on the task. Ugh. When had she last brushed her hair?

She couldn’t remember that, either.

Her mom crossed over to the bed and sat down. “I just got home from my book club meeting,” she started out. Kylie’s eyes widened with surprise. Book club? That was an evening thing. A Monday-evening-from-7-to-9-pm thing, if she remembered correctly.

But, that couldn’t be right. That’d mean that she’d been here a week, and that it was nine at night.

But…but…she’d only been here a day or two, and it was still morning.

Her head hurt.

She surreptitiously grabbed her phone off the nightstand and checked it.

Holy shit.

How was it May 14th? And how was it 9:34 at night?

That couldn’t be right.

Her head hurt even more.

Her mom stopped talking and Kylie looked up blankly. “Sorry, Mom, I missed that. Come again?”

With a disgruntled look, her mom snatched her cell phone out of her hands and set it down on the other side of her. “I saaiidd, the women at Between the Covers mentioned that Doc Whitaker is hiring a receptionist for the clinic.” Kylie gave her a blank look. “The vet clinic,” her mom said, trying to clarify. Kylie blinked. Why was her mom talking to her about the vet? She didn’t have a pet. Hell, she didn’t even have a goldfish.

What she did have was a human being growing inside of her, which was unfortunately much more terrifying than a goldfish. For starters, she didn’t have to push a goldfish out of her—

“You should go apply for the job,” her mom said bluntly, finally giving up all pretense of dancing around the subject.

“Work at the clinic?” Kylie repeated, confused. She’d planned on getting a job someday, but right now, it just seemed overwhelming. She’d have to get out of bed and put on clothes and take a shower – hmmm…maybe, take a shower and then put on clothes – but this all sounded like a lot of movement, no matter what order the steps went in.

“Kylie, you’re in a depressed funk.” Apparently, her mom was sticking to the blunt plan. “You’ve been here a week almost to the hour, and I don’t think you get out of bed except to go pee and occasionally shuffle to the kitchen to eat a bowl of Cap’n Crunch cereal. I love you, but enough is enough. I am not here to be your source of sugary breakfast cereal for the rest of your life. I am not here to be your babysitter when you give birth to this baby. I am not here to be your refuge where you get to hide from the world. I kept thinking you just needed some time to pull your head out of your ass and get it together, but apparently, that time isn’t going to happen on its own. So, I’m going to force it. You need to get up, take a shower, brush your teeth, brush your hair for hell’s sakes, and then come into the living room. It won’t kill you to go somewhere else other than this bed. We can talk when you’re done.”

And with that edict, her mom walked out of the room and shut the door with a click behind her.

Kylie stared at the door in shock. She couldn’t believe it. Dammit all, she was pregnant and she didn’t know what she was going to do with her life! Her mom could cut her a little slack.

Hot tears of indignation trailed down her cheeks as she headed to the adjoining bathroom, stripping as she went. Her mom could try being nice. Kylie was her only child, after all, and—

The smell hit her nose, stopping her thoughts in their tracks. What the hell is that smell? It was putrid. Had her mother let a dead body rot in the bathtub?

She pulled the shower curtain back cautiously, peering in. Huh. Clean and shining, like always.

Hold on…right before that smell hit, Kylie had just taken off her sweatshirt and tank top that she vaguely remembered wearing on the Greyhound bus to Sawyer.

Which meant that she hadn’t taken them off in eight days.

Could that be right? It couldn’t be right.

She took a tentative sniff of her armpit and yanked her face away in disgust.

Okay, so maybe that was right. Shit, she had no idea body odor could be so offensive.

Kylie peeled the rest of her clothes off and stepped into the shower, holding her breath as much as possible as she quickly adjusted the water to the hottest temperature her skin could bear. As the hot water pounded down on her, the fog that’d wrapped her up in its comforting embrace over the past eight days began to dissipate. She began to feel energy and thoughts and clarity return, ever-so-slowly at first. She scrubbed her scalp with shampoo twice, trying to get the layer of oil and grease out of it that she’d allowed to settle in, and then started in on shaving. The more she scrubbed and shaved and rinsed, the better she felt.

By the time the hot water was gone, her legs were shaky and she felt lightheaded, but she also felt…herself. More alive and present than she had been in weeks. Maybe months.

She brushed her teeth and then tugged on yoga pants and a tank top – a clean one – and headed to the kitchen. She needed to find something to eat, and then she could talk to her mom. She needed fortifications for this convo, she was pretty damn sure. Her mom met up with her in the kitchen as she was rummaging through the fridge. “Feeling better?” she asked, leaning against the counter.

Kylie pulled out a stack of items and piled them on the counter. Mustard, horseradish, sprouts, pepper-jack cheese, sweet pickles, and strawberry jam. Her mouth watered at the sight. This was going to be a glorious sandwich.

“I do. I…” She paused in her slathering of the jam on the rye bread and smiled meekly at her mom. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened. I’m still in shock, I guess.” She went back to spreading a thick layer of sprouts, smooshing it into the jam with the back of a spoon. She ignored the strangled groan of disgust from her mom. “I didn’t realize how long I’d been here, honestly. I thought it’d only been a day or two. I can’t believe it’s been a week.”

She piled some baked ham slices on, and then squished the two sides together with a pleasing smoosh sound. She took a huge bite and let out a groan of happiness. Her mom watched her, a smile playing around the edges of her mouth. “I don’t even need to see the pee stick,” she said dryly. “No one can fake those kinds of pregnancy cravings.”

Kylie shrugged, chewing and swallowing just enough to make room to shove some more in. She hadn’t realized how hungry she’d gotten, either. She had vague memories of pouring herself some Peanut Butter Crunch but she couldn’t remember when or how often. Based on her stomach rumblings, she was going to guess not often enough.

The food began to hit her bloodstream and she felt the trembling in her legs start to go away. She started to feel…human again. It was a wonderful feeling.

“Okay, so tell me about the vet job again,” Kylie said, and then took another huge bite of her sandwich.

It was time to start making some changes, and that began with getting back on her feet. She wasn’t here to be a mooch.

It was about time to act like it.