Cassidy
NEARLY SIX WEEKS had passed since Blake had moved to Michigan. He’d found a small house to rent just a few blocks from mine. It was the typical bachelor pad, I’d always envisioned him living in–white walls, and wood floors, with a black leather sectional. Honestly, I wasn’t sure why he even bothered since he and the kids spent practically every night at my place anyways, but he kept insisting, saying that he didn’t want to pressure me into anything.
Although I’d been lucky and didn’t have any lasting side effects from the accident, I did have to take a few weeks off from work, per the doctor’s orders, to fully recover from the concussion.
Since it was the height of the wedding season, I’d been swamped after my return and spent many late hours with my brides at various appointments. My favorite were always the cake-testing appointments even though my hips hadn’t been agreeing with me lately, and I hadn’t had much extra time to hit the gym.
“I can’t decide between the pink orchids or the purple calla lilies. Oh, Mom, look at these gardenias!” my soon-to-be-bride, Kendra, squealed as she flipped through the hundredth bouquet catalog.
Taking a sip of water, I blew out a deep breath to try and calm my queasy stomach. I’d eaten a greasy patty melt and French fries for lunch and they obviously weren’t settling well. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I said a silent prayer that my bridezilla would come to a decision, hopefully sometime soon. We’d already spent the entire morning trying to select a menu with a caterer, and now we’d been with the florist for the last two hours.
“Kendra, I’ll be back in a few. I need to run to the ladies’ room. Please feel free to make a decision without me,” I encouraged, excusing myself.
I’d just made it to the sink when I lost the entire contents of my stomach. Leaning against the counter, I lifted my head and caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror. My complexion was chalky-white, and sweat dripped off my brow. I needed to get home, and fast. Rinsing out the sink, I splashed some water on my face in hopes of making myself somewhat presentable.
“Cassidy, are you OK, dear?” Mrs. Jacobs asked as I walked back toward the two of them.
“Actually, I’m not feeling very well. I think I must’ve eaten something that didn’t agree at lunch,” I explained.
“That’s strange. We ate the same thing and I’m feeling fine,” Kendra said. “Maybe you’re pregnant!”
“Ha! That’s a good one,” I laughed. “Definitely not pregnant, but maybe I am coming down with something,” I added, feeling the beginning of a dull headache.
“Oh no! You don’t have the flu, do you? My girlfriends from college are flying in this weekend for my bachelorette party! I can’t get sick!” Kendra yelled.
“Relax, Ken. I think you’ll be fine. If Cassidy thinks it’s just something she ate then I’m sure that’s all it is,” Mrs. Jacobs added, rubbing her daughter’s shoulders. I’d had several bridezillas throughout the years, but this one was really the icing on the cake–as we liked to say in the bridal biz. “But, just to be safe, you really should be going, dear. We’ll call you in the morning with our final selection.”
“Thank you, ladies,” I said, as they both refused my outstretched hand.
Making it to my car without incident, I dialed Brooke before pulling out into traffic.
“Hey, Cass, are we still on for the movies tonight?” she asked, as she answered the call. “I guess the guys were planning on hitting the gym after work.”
“Actually, that’s why I’m calling. I must’ve eaten something bad at lunch. I had to leave my bride and her mother at the flower shop because I hurled in the bathroom,” I said, suddenly feeling another wave of nausea come on. “Hold on,” I said, pulling over onto a side street.
“Cass, are you OK?” I heard Brooke ask through the Bluetooth as I puked up round two on the sidewalk. Hoping no one saw me, I quickly closed the car door and pulled back into traffic.
“Sorry,” I said weakly.
“Well that was disgusting,” she laughed.
“You’ll live. I’m sure you’ve seen me do far worse. Besides, if you think that was disgusting, how are you going to handle changing poopy diapers in a few months?” I asked with a laugh.
“Oh, I thought I’d just call you each time the girls needed to be changed,” she joked.
“Yeah, my years of diaper duty have long passed,” I said.
“Are you sure about that?” Brooke questioned. “You’re not pregnant, are you?”
“Um, yeah, I’m positive. Why does everyone keep asking me that? You know my baby factory is closed for business. I’m on the pill, and Blake and I have been super careful. I’ve even made him double-wrap it before.”
“Dear lord, please tell me that’s a lie,” she giggled.
“Yeah, I couldn’t do that to him. He likes the sensation of my love canal too much for that,” I chuckled.
“I’m hanging up on you, right now. You didn’t just call your vagina a love canal,” she laughed.
“I did, but I don’t think it’s any worse than you calling it a vagina!”
“Um, that’s what it is!” Brooke yelled through the phone.
“You’re so damn prim and proper sometimes. It’s a pussy, Brookie. Pussy. Say it with me, Puss–see!” I teased.
“You’re ridiculous, I’m ignoring you because I’m trying to be serious here. Are you late?” Brooke asked, in a much more serious tone.
“Late? Late for what? What the fuck are you talking about?” I responded, trying to ignore my rumbling stomach.
“Your period, dumbass. Are you late?”
Thinking back, I tried using my fingers to count back to my last period. “Fuck, I don’t know,” I screamed. “Maybe. Fuck.”
“Calm down, you’re still driving. You need to pull over and take some deep breaths,” Brooke suggested. “We don’t need you to end up in the hospital again.”
“No, what I need to do is drive to the fucking pharmacy and buy a fucking pregnancy test,” I said, panic beginning to set in. I really was late—at least ten days late. I’d only even been late one other time in my life–and nine months later I was a mother.
Arriving home, I immediately ran into the bathroom to empty my stomach for the third time. I wasn’t even sure how there was anything left in it at this point. Sitting on the cold linoleum floor, I stared at the unopened box in my hand. If I was, in fact, pregnant, I had no idea how I was going to tell Blake. How would he even react? The last time I’d been in this position, in this same exact room, my relationship had crumbled before my very eyes. The only difference between then and now is that I didn’t love Steve. Sure, I was hurt when he left me, but I was able to move on. If Blake left, I wasn’t sure if I’d ever recover. After all, I’d hardly survived for the few weeks we had been apart.
We’d never talked about having children together. I didn’t know if he wanted more kids five or ten years from now, let alone in nine months. Fuck, together, we’d have four kids all under the age of six. And, what if the unimaginable happened and I was knocked up with twins like Brooke. I wasn’t even sure if they made strollers and minivans big enough for that many kids.
Just as I was getting up the nerve to go and pee on the stick, the door swung open without so much as a knock.
“Whoa, Kaity, you know better than to barge into the bathroom,” I said, not taking my eyes from the same tile I’d been staring at for the last fifteen minutes.
“It’s not Kaity,” Blake said as I looked up from the floor.
“Oh, hey,” I said, tucking the pregnancy test under my leg. “I thought you were going to the gym with Rich.”
“Brooke told me that I probably should come here first to check on you. I knocked, but you obviously didn’t answer. So, I used my key,” he said, dangling it in the air. “You don’t look so good. Everything all right?”
The rational side of my brain was telling me to tell Blake the truth; That he would understand, and be the most amazing father to our child. He’d been furious with me when I doubted him, and our relationship before. I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep this secret from him much longer. But, the irrational side was toying with my emotions, telling me that Blake would walk out of my life–our lives–just as Steve had done almost six years earlier.
“Just a touch of food poisoning. Brooke really shouldn’t have bothered you. Go to the gym with Rich. I’ll be fine,” I lied.
“Yeah? You sure about that?” he questioned, joining me on the floor.
“I’m sure,” I said, nodding my head in agreement.
“Then what’s in the box hiding under your leg?”
“What box?” I said, picking up my left leg. “I don’t see a box.”
“Your right leg, Cass. I’m not dumb,” he said, raising his brows.
Swallowing the lump that had lodged in my throat, I finally opted to tell Blake the truth–praying that he would stay here with me, and not walk out the door. “It’s a pregnancy test,” I said, my eyes brimming with tears.
“You’re pregnant?” he asked in an even tone.
“I don’t know,” I answered, shrugging my shoulders. “I haven’t taken the test yet. I guess I’m too scared to do it.”
“Why? I don’t understand,” he said, shaking his head in confusion. “You don’t want another baby–my baby?”
“It’s not that. We–we just haven’t talked about more kids. And, the last time,” I stopped, wiping the tears from my eyes.
“Cass, look at me,” Blake said, placing his finger on my chin. “Since I truly believe you aren’t thinking clearly right now, I’m going to pretend you didn’t suggest that I’m anything like Steve. Especially considering everything that we’ve recently overcome. Fight for us, Baby.”
“I’m sor—,” I interrupted.
“Shhh, I’m not finished,” he added, moving his finger to my lips. “It’s true that we haven’t talked about having children, but that doesn’t, for a minute, mean that I don’t think about having babies with you–everyday. I can’t think of anything better than for you to be pregnant with my child.”
“Really?” I asked, the corners of my mouth turning up.
“Really,” he said, bringing my head down to rest on his firm chest. “Well, I can think of one thing better.”
Exhaling sharply, I knew it was too good to be true. “What’s that?” I asked.
“Well, I’d ask you to be my wife, but I don’t want you to assume I’m only asking you because you may or may not be pregnant. So, just know that I do want you to be my wife, Carpenter, and I will ask you again–whether it be tomorrow, next week, or five years from now,” he confessed. “Now I think it’s time I step out into the bedroom so you can pee on that stick.”
Blake left the room for a few minutes as I took care of business and quickly brushed my teeth. Opening the door into the bedroom, I took a seat next to Blake on the side of the bed.
“Are you OK?” he asked, lacing his fingers with mine.
“Yeah, I’m actually not feeling too bad now,” I said, shocking myself that I meant it.
“Would you be mad at me if I said I hope it’s positive?” he questioned, placing a gentle kiss on my forehead.
“No, because I think I want it to be positive, too,” I said, placing my other hand on my stomach.
“What are your favorite baby names–boy and girl?” Blake asked, trying to pass the time.
“I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it,” I admitted.
“That’s why it’s fun. No thinking. Just tell me what two names you come up with first.”
“Hmmm,” I mumbled.
“Stop! I said no thinking,” he chuckled.
“OK, fine, Josie and Dominic.”
“Mine are Luke and Leia.”
I eyed him suspiciously before responding, “We are not naming our children after Star Wars characters.”
Shrugging, he laughed, “At least I didn’t suggest Anakin.”
We sat in silence for a few more minutes, waiting for the results. “Do you think it’s time yet?” Blake asked after three minutes had passed.
“Yeah, I think so. Do you want to look, or do you want me to look?” I asked, rising from the edge of the bed.
“It’s up to you,” he said, standing beside me.
“You do it. I don’t think I can look,” I said, sitting back down.
Blake walked back into the bathroom, and quickly returned with the stick. Judging by the look on his face, I knew the results of the test before he even spoke the words.
“Well, I really wasn’t expecting that,” I said, glancing at the ceiling. “I guess it really was just some indigestion.”
“One day it’ll be positive, Baby. You can bet on that,” he said, walking up to the bed and pulling my head into his chest. He stroked the back of my head for several minutes as I cried into his shirt for the child we’d lost, yet I’d never even carried.