Chapter 35

Thirty-Five

Gemma

P ulling up outside of my sister’s house, I put the car in park, resting my head on the back of my seat. It’s a bright, sunny morning, which is a complete contrast to the knot in my stomach and the sour taste on the back of my tongue. Turning my head, I take in the white bag on my seat, huffing out a breath as I grab it and exit the vehicle.

Georgia is waiting for me on the porch by the time I get up there, barefoot and with a confused look on her face. “Morning,” she drawls, sounding like she just got up. “Didn’t know you were coming by.”

“I didn’t know I was either until I pulled in here.”

Her eyebrows hike up as she pushes off the banister. “Oh, shit. That doesn’t sound good. Come on, I’ll make us some coffee.”

Sitting in one of the stools at the bar that overlooks Georgia’s kitchen, I set my purse and the bag down on the seat beside me, swiping to unlock my phone when I notice I have a new text. A smile spreads on my face as I take in who it’s from.

Everett: Good morning, mama. ;) I would’ve texted you earlier but I had a donut snafu in the teachers’ lounge this morning before class. I’ll give you a hint: chocolate donuts and my white button-down don’t mesh.

Snorting at the imagery, I thumb out a response.

Me: Oh no! Hopefully you have a bleach pen with you, and/or a change of clothes.

“What’s got you smiling like that?” Georgia asks as she slides a steaming cup of coffee in front of me, the aroma wafting around me, doing wonders at waking me up already.

“Thank you.” I take a drink, groaning at the flavor, not even caring that I’m scalding the shit out of my tongue in the process. “Everett texted me. Apparently, he ended up wearing his breakfast this morning.”

It’s been just about two weeks since Everett and I decided to make things between us a little more official. To be honest, not much has changed since we saw each other pretty frequently before then, but it feels nice to put a name to what I’m feeling other than “no strings” and to have Sutton know.

“So, what’s got you over at my place before I’ve even had my morning cup of coffee?”

My older sister watches me with curious eyes as she ties her long, thick hair up into a bun atop her head. My stomach twists all over again, but this time for a very different reason, the reason I came over here in the first place. But now that I’m here, I’m on the verge of chickening out. Deciding to suck it up and get it over with, I blow out a breath and grab the bag off the stool beside me, dropping the contents onto the bar.

Georgia’s eyes widen as they dart between me and what’s on the counter between us. Then she huffs out a laugh. “Can’t say I didn’t see that coming,” she quips.

“Wow, thanks,” I mutter.

“How late are you?”

“A week.”

“Damn.” She blows out a breath. “That’s unheard of for you.”

“I know.” Gesturing toward the counter, I say, “Hence the test.”

Between me and my sisters, I’ve always been the consistent one when it comes to cycles. With Grace’s self-induced stress from all the work she puts on herself and Georgia’s polycystic ovary syndrome, the two of them rarely ever know when Aunt Flo is coming, whereas me, every twenty-eight days on the dot, there she is.

Until now.

“Go take it.” Georgia tips her chin toward the bathroom. “No sense in waiting.”

Looking at the box in front of me, I chew on the inside of my cheek as I grab it and walk toward the hall bathroom. I’m almost certain I know what it’s going to tell me because I’m very in tune with my body, but I’m not quite sure how I feel about that yet.

After I pee on the stick, I set it on a pillow of toilet paper on top of the box on the counter, wash my hands, then open the door for Georgia to come in. Standing with her arm rested against the doorway, she watches me from where I sit on the edge of the tub.

“Does Everett know?”

“No.” I shake my head. “I didn’t even realize I was late until last night when I was falling asleep, which is a terrible time for information like that to pop into my head because I then proceeded to toss and turn for the rest of the night.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t realize it sooner.”

“I know. I’ve been so preoccupied with the deadline I’m approaching with my book. I made a last-minute decision to run to the drugstore after dropping Sutton off at school this morning, and then I came straight here.”

The timer on my phone goes off after three minutes, and my heart skips a beat. I don’t move, staying rooted on the edge of my sister’s tub because I honestly don’t know what I’m wanting that test to read when I look at it. It was always a dream of mine to have two kids, maybe three, but after Dylan died, I kind of assumed I was done. Sutton was so little at the time, and I was nowhere near a place to think about that, and then I got older, and so did Sutton.

“You look,” I tell Georgia like a coward, my pulse racing.

She breathes out a laugh. “Seriously?”

“Yes, please. I can’t do it.”

Stepping farther into the bathroom, she looks down at the test on the counter, examining it for a moment before her eyes find mine. She doesn’t say anything for a moment, probably to edge me like the sadistic little brat she is, and I can’t read her face.

“Well? ”

Her face scrunches up, and then a smile forms. “It’s positive.”

Those two words hit me like a freight train. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, take a look for yourself.”

Standing up, I walk over to the counter, finding the word “pregnant” printed on the tiny digital screen, and it feels like my stomach is clear in my throat. My heartbeat is deafening inside my ears and a layer of goosebumps pop up all over my skin as I work on steadying my breathing, which only seems to be getting faster and harsher the longer I stare at the test.

I’m… pregnant.

Looking up at my sister, I find her already watching me. “Georg, I’m pregnant.”

Her eyes light up as her smile widens. “Hell yeah, you are.”

Glancing down at the test one more time, making sure I’m reading it correctly, I say, “I don’t… I can’t believe this.”

“Um, what?” My eyes lift, meeting Georgia’s, finding her looking at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Honey, it’s not like you and Everett have been exactly careful.” She snorts. “How many times in the last few weeks alone has that man filled you like a Twinkie?”

“Oh my god, Georgia.” I can’t help but laugh at the horrible comparison.

“I’m just saying.” She holds up her hands. “We’re all adults, and we know how babies are made. You had to have known this was going to happen.”

“I mean, yeah, but I’m getting older. I guess I thought maybe my odds were slimmer. ”

“Gemma Anne,” she drawls. “You are thirty-four years old. I would hardly call that getting older.” She pauses for a moment, her eyes softening. “What do you think you’re going to do?”

“Keep it,” I say without even thinking about it.

“You know that’s not your only option,” she offers. “You’re allowed to think on it and make the decision that’s best for you.”

“I know, but there’s no question. I’m keeping it.”

“Then I guess you better go tell the cream pie king.”

Barking out a laugh, I feel my shoulders relaxing, even if only marginally. Georgia has always had such a way of making people feel at ease without even realizing it. She lightens the mood so easily, and it’s probably the reason I drove here to take the test instead of going home and doing it alone.

“Please don’t ever call him that again.”

She laughs, hooking her arm around my shoulders and pulling me in for a hug. “Girl, you’re having a freaking baby,” she squeals. “That’s so fucking exciting and special. You’re making me an auntie again!”

Pressure builds behind my eyes and moisture fills them as the reality of this sets in. Even though this wasn’t planned in the slightest and I’m scared like hell to restart all over again with a baby, I can’t deny how excited this makes me.

I just hope Everett shares that excitement.