The dates are stupid.

In a million different ways, they are idiotic. I’d rather be doing a SUDOKU puzzle. And I’m terrible at math.

The thing is, these guys aren’t necessarily awful. They just aren’t Charlie.

And Charlie is off the table.

I end the call from my doctor's office and put my phone in my apron pocket.

If he was local man-cake before, he is definitely going to be asking for a to-go box for his slice when I tell him the news I just found out today.

I saw him the other morning at the bakery. He asked me for the twentieth time if I’d meet him to talk and I brushed him off.

Because I was scared.

Scared of what I was 90% sure of.

What I am 100% sure of now.

I’m pregnant.

Flashes of the condom breaking have run through my mind a thousand times since I missed my period. We never actually talked about it when it happened because two seconds later my family walked in on us.

Not that it changes anything now.

Now, I am carrying his child.

I lean against the fridge where Charlie and I had sex. I try to remember the exact moment when he looked in my eyes and I thought I saw something real, something forever.

I could have sworn I did.

Our foreheads touched, and I felt like in that moment I was his.

Then everything changed. My family walked in and he called me a hookup and that was it.

Until now.

Now...

“Maggie? You back here?” Greta calls, pushing through the doors from the front of the bakery. We’ve closed for the day and now it’s just her and me. “Sweetie, what’s wrong? You look like crap.”

I shake my head. “It’s nothing.” I lie. I never, ever lie to my sister, but I can’t help it. The idea of telling her about the baby before I tell Charlie feels wrong.

She frowns. “Well, something’s wrong. Are you PMS’ing?”

I snort. “What cures do you have for that?”

“Two-layer German chocolate cake.” Greta reaches lifts the lid on a cake plate.

Laughing I say, “You know I was the one who made that, right?”

“I know. You do the sweets, I do the savory. But you haven’t even tasted it.”

Reaching for two forks and then handing her one, I say, “You mean you haven’t even tasted it.”

“It’s been sitting here all day. Why didn’t you put it out this morning?”

I bite my bottom lip. I came here extra early this morning and stress-baked. “I was in the mood for something special.”

Honestly, it may sound strange, but knowing I’d get the blood test results today, I wanted to make sure, even if Charlie didn’t want to raise this baby with me, that I would always remember this day as something extra sweet. Special.

German chocolate cake special

Which, ever since I was a little girl has been the epitome of special.

“You only ever make this on your birthday. And it’s not March, so what gives, Mags?” Greta hops onto the counter and I follow suit. With the cake between us, we dig in.

“It’s complicated.” She takes another bite, contemplating my words. “I’m your best friend. I can handle complicated.”

I really want to tell Charlie first, but Greta has been with me through everything. Losing our parents, and then losing Luke a few years later. She helped me through college and took a risk with me in opening the Two Sisters Bakery. We tell one another everything.

But this? This feels different.

“Look,” Greta says. “I won’t push. I just want to make sure you’re okay. Is it the business? I know I took extra time off the last week when Milo was sick, and then Lucy had the parent-teacher conference--”

I cut her off. “I would never brood about that. Besides, I don’t make this cake when I’m pissed. It’s a celebration cake.”

“True.” Greta’s eyes narrow. “So, what are we celebrating?”

I raise an eyebrow. “I thought you said you weren’t going to push?”

Greta sticks her fork in the cake. “True enough.” Lifting another bite to her mouth, she adds, “Will I get to know eventually?”

I laugh at this, my shoulders actually shaking. “Eventually, everyone will know. I promise. I won’t be able to hide it for long.”

“As long as I’m not the last to know, I’ll be happy.”

“I’ll tell you before Clive, how’s that?” God knows I’ll avoid that conversation for as long as possible.

“Perfect,” Greta says. “Now can you help me with something?” she asks pulling out her phone.

“Uh, sure, what?”

“So, I want to date again and downloaded Tinder but don’t know which photo to use for my headshot.”

I snatch her phone away. “You can’t use that,” I say, pressing down on the icon on her screen.

“Why not?” she asks indigent. “I’m lonely.”

“I know,” I tell her, handing her back her phone with the app now deleted. “But that isn’t the way to get back in the saddle. I’ve been going on blind dates for two weeks and let me tell you, there isn’t anyone in this town for you.”

Greta pouts. “So I’m just supposed to hope something like Hazel’s love story happens to me? Someone new comes to town and sweeps me off my feet?”

I nod. “That’s exactly what you need to hold out for.”

“And what about you? Is that your plan too?” Greta asks.

Smiling, I take another bite of my delicious cake.

Charlie will only want me out of pity now. Out of responsibility--or he won’t want me at all.

But it doesn’t matter anymore. Now, only one thing matters-- this baby.

“Something like that. Someone new could enter my life at any moment and change things forever.”

I don’t add, that special someone already has.

But it doesn’t change the fact that this baby is my world now, coming into my life unexpectedly. Not a traditional love story, but it’s my love story.

And that is more than enough for me.