Final Frost

FINAL FROST

BACK THEN

Dahlia,

I'm starting to think you like gardening a lot more than you claim. This is the third weekend you've turned down a breakfast with me because the magnolias "desperately need you." :-)

Something you want to finally admit to me?

See you tonight.

Forever Writing You,

Everett

E ven though Everett and I text and call each other nonstop, he goes out of his way to send me a new letter every weekend.

They always arrive sealed with a bright blue wax seal, but this one was torn open and there are mulch-prints all over the card.

"Mommm!" I rush down the steps, waving Everett's latest letter. "Mommm!"

"Yes, Dahlia?" She yells from the kitchen.

"Why did you open my latest letter?"

"I didn't." She looks up at me. "I've never done that at all."

"Then why is the wax seal broken?"

"Because I opened it." Aunt Gertrude shrugged. "I wanted to make sure you weren't hiding a baby from us."

"A what ?"

"You've been getting round lately." She poked my stomach with a pen. "But I guess it's just too many potatoes. I won't be cooking those anymore for a while."

"Thank you so much, Aunt G."

"You're welcome." She shrugs and looks at my mother. "For the record, it was just another typical letter from the Everett boy."

"He should just go ahead and propose." My mom laughs. "I can't see either of you ever dating anyone else."

Me either. "Don't wait up. I'll be back to finish prepping the tulip bulbs later tonight!"

I stepped outside and headed to my car.

As crazy as Aunt Gertrude can be, I honestly couldn't remember the last time I had a period.

She might have a point…

* * *

Half an hour later, I sit on the edge of my bathtub and stare blankly at the positive blue lines on the pregnancy test.

Butterflies are fluttering in my chest, and life suddenly feels more than perfect.

I'm pregnant with Everett's baby.

I call our family doctor and schedule an appointment for next weekend so I can surprise Everett with the news.

T he following Monday, when I'm knee deep in weeds, I feel something between my thighs. Something warm, sticky and wet.

Assuming I've cut an irrigation line, I stand up to see where, but I'm not wet from water.

It's bright red blood.

Oh my god! I unclip my overall straps and push them down to the gravel.

My panties are soaked in blood, too.

Panicking, I call out for my mom and Aunt, but then I remember they're miles away—handling business in town.

Wrapping a tarp around my waist, I rush to my car and drive to the doctor's office.