Brie is fascinated by my writing career or rather career. Not really sure what to call what I do at this point. It’s not bringing in enough money to pay even half the rent on this place, but luckily I have the money that I got from Aiden. My heart skips a beat at just the thought of him. Everything is so different and he still doesn’t know a thing. Mainly because I can’t bring myself to tell him.

“So…how is all that going?” Brie asks.

“The writing? Really good actually, lots of people are buying the books, but, you know, it’s not much money. The first one is only ninety-nine cents and Amazon only pays me 30% from that. So I make about thirty cents from each book sold.”

“Wow…that sucks.”

“I have two other books in the series and they cost $2.99. I make 75% from that, but still, given how long it takes to write a book and how people mainly want to get free books or ninety-nine cent books, it’s pretty hard to make a living.”

“Do you do that Kindle Unlimited thing?”

“Yep.”

“I joined. I like getting books from there.”

“As an author, you have to be exclusive with them, so your books can’t be anywhere else. And the pay? Well, it leaves much to be desired.”

“How much?”

“$0.0045, the last time I checked. Less than half a cent per page read.”

“How much is that?”

“About 90 cents for a 200 page book.”

“Really?” Brie asks. “How the hell does anyone make any money?”

“They don’t. Not really,” I say with a shrug. “Unless you have a huge following. But in romance, it’s really hard. All the readers want free books. Most readers also complain if a book is priced above 99 cents.”

“Why the hell is that?” Brie asks. “I mean, everyone pays like four bucks for a cup of coffee at Starbucks and that’s just some beans.”

“Exactly. But for some reason, people think these books just fall out of the sky. Like it doesn’t take me a month or so of hard work to write them. And I work alone. I mean, I have a proofreader, but I also do all the other self-publishing stuff alone. I make the covers and do the formatting and upload to Amazon. It all takes a lot of time and resources.”

“So, why do you do it?”

“Because I love it. I love writing. I love this story. And I love the feedback that I get from the readers who are really into this series.”

Brie nods. “I really hope I get some sort of passion like this.”

“I sort of hope you don’t,” I say. “I’ve wanted to be a writer since I was a kid. I was obsessive about it. It’s the only thing I ever imagined doing. And now? Well, I am doing it. People are buying the books, but I’m still not making much. Not like if I had a real job. But if I had a real job then I wouldn’t be able to do this. And that’s the paradox.”

“Still, I wish I had a good answer for what I want to do with my life,” Brie says. “Especially when Dad asks me the question.”

I smile. Mitch is not one to keep his mouth shut about how worthless he thinks the anthropology degree from Swarthmore is.

“So, let me get this straight,” I say. “He doesn’t approve of your major but he still doesn’t want you to take a semester off to travel?”

“He says that he’d be fine with it if I was going to study abroad, took classes, but not just to travel. I don’t know what his problem is, Ellie.”

I do. He’s a dad. He doesn’t want his little girl tramping around some third world country all alone. It would make him feel a lot better if she went there through some program with some other equally idealistic kids her age. But I can’t say any of this to her right now. I have a new wave of nausea come over me and I barely make it to the bathroom.

The sheer volume of vomit is no longer the same as it was. So, the anti-nausea medication is definitely working, but it hasn’t taken it away completely.

“Are you okay?” Brie knocks on the door and then comes in when I don’t reply. I wonder if I should lie for now or tell her the truth.

But she picks up the bottle of Diclegis from the bathroom sink. “Why do you have this?” she asks.

“Why?” I ask, not sure how I should respond.

“Ellie, this is anti-nausea medication that Kim Kardashian took when she was pregnant.”

“Oh, really?” I play dumb. “And how do you know that? I didn’t know you cared so much about reality stars.”

“I don’t. But no matter how much I try to block out contemporary culture it still seeps in,” Brie says. “Now, don’t avoid the question. Why the hell are you taking this?”

“Because the over-the-counter stuff didn’t work,” I say after a moment and bury my head in the toilet.

Brie stares at me. I wipe my mouth and get up off the floor. I grab my toothbrush and brush my teeth. I glance at Brie in the mirror and note the deer-in-the-headlights look on her face. Perhaps there were more sensitive ways of telling her the big news. The problem is that she will be the first one to know and I’m not entirely sure that’s right. If anyone should be the first to know about this, it is the father of the baby. The problem is that I still haven’t made up my mind how I feel about all of this.

“You’re…pregnant?” she asks after a moment. I wipe my mouth on the towel hanging behind me and nod.

“Ellie?” she asks, seeking further confirmation.

“Yes,” I finally say, turning to face her. “I’m pregnant.”