Chapter 18

TAMMY

Iwoke in Mike's bed again, but Mike was gone. I had slept through his alarm apparently, and he had decided not to wake me. His side of the bed was cold when I stretched my hand across it. I sat up to check the time. Relief washed over me when I realized that I wasn't late, and then something like a fever slammed into me, and I fell back against the pillow. My head felt wrong—I didn't know how to describe it even to myself. I just felt sick. Then my stomach caught up to my head, and I rushed to the bathroom.

Falling to my knees, I was just in time to aim the small amount of undigested dinner into the toilet. It felt awful, and I shuddered, gripping the bowl with shaky hands. When the panic passed, I stood and rinsed my mouth with mouthwash. In the mirror, my reflection looked haunted. I looked two shades too pale, and my hair was stringy, probably because I hadn't had a shower yet, but it still made me look worse than usual.

I felt my forehead and didn't notice any temperature rise. I had just thrown up, so clearly, I was sick. I texted Lindsey to let her know I couldn't come in that day. I texted Mike too, just to let him know I was home. He replied immediately by saying he could come home for lunch and bring me some chicken soup. I told him not to bother, since I was just going to watch Netflix and nap.

I didn't know why I did it. When I thought of people who needed to know where I was, roommate wasn't high on that list. You told your parents where you were going. You told your boss obviously. You told your spouse and your children if they were still living with you, but guy you were maybe dating? It felt awkward, but I reasoned that he might try to surprise me at work again, and I didn't want him showing up there if I was here.

Soup did sound nice, and I remembered we had bought a few cans at the grocery store yesterday. I hunted through the cabinets until I found where Mike had put our meager supply of canned goods. My choices were beef stew, corn chowder, and chicken noodle. I grabbed the chicken noodle and opened the can, pouring it into a pot and setting it on the stove. For some reason, coffee didn't call to me that day. I always drank coffee, but today my stomach rebelled. I didn't want to do anything to anger it, so I just stood and waited for the soup to boil.

I spent the time mulling over yesterday's brunch. Mike had seemed nervous when he first introduced his friend, as if maybe they weren't really friends at all. There was a lot that had gone unsaid between them, a lot of pointed looks and pregnant pauses. I didn't know what to make of it. Then there was that comment that Mr. Newbury made yesterday. Was Mike involved in something I didn't know about? Was that why the bartender at the Lucky Lady was so sour with him?

The soup erupted against its lid and slid down the sides of the pot to sizzle on the burner. I turned the stove off. My stomach heaved again, and again I dashed to the bathroom to empty its contents. I left the soup untouched and curled up on the couch, feeling sorry for myself. It was never fun to be sick, but when there were all these questions floating around, I wondered if I had made the right decision moving in with Mike.

I decided to call Macy. Whatever was going on, she would make me feel better. I flipped to her contact and pressed the Call button.

"Hey." Her voice sounded bright as always. "How's it going?"

"It's fine, but I'm sick."

"Oh no," she crooned. "What are your symptoms?"

"Stomachache, weirdness in my head."

"What do you mean ‘weirdness'?" she puzzled.

"I don't know. It's kind of a floaty feeling." I tried to describe the illness.

"Hmm, that's how I felt whenever I was pregnant," Macy said.

I froze. My breath lodged in my throat, and my head spun. How long had it been since I had my period? It was before the cookout, I was sure. Was it before I had come to Singer's Ridge? Oh God, what did that mean?

"Tammy?" Macy nudged me. "I was kidding."

"No," I whispered. "Maybe you're right."

"Okay, I'm coming over. Don't go anywhere." She hung up, and I was left alone with the growing realization that Mike and I had been irresponsible in our lovemaking. We weren't habitual lovers yet, but there were at least two times we had sex without protection, and the first was about a month ago. It was enough to get pregnant.

I stood up and paced the cabin, down the hallway to Mike's bedroom and back to the kitchen. Waiting for Macy was agony. I couldn't sit still, couldn't focus on the television. What was I going to do if I was pregnant? How would I tell Mike? He had just recently asked me to be his roommate, but there was still so much I didn't know about him. Why hadn't he ever settled down with a woman before? What was behind so many short-lived relationships? And what was between him and Porter, and him and the bartender?

The sound of tires on the driveway cut blissfully into my panicked musings. I rushed to the door to welcome Macy in. We hugged briefly before she pressed a small package into my hand. I read the instructions carefully, shutting myself in the bathroom to perform the pee test. Leaving the stick on the back of the toilet, I washed up and opened the door.

"Well?" Macy asked, waiting in the hall.

"I haven't read it yet," I said.

"Do you want me to?" She nearly begged me for the privilege.

I moved aside to let her pass. She dashed to the toilet and picked up the test, not caring where it had been. A single squeal was all I needed to tell me it was positive. She rushed to throw her arms around me, but I felt my stomach revolt. I pushed her back and fell to my knees, retching into the toilet bowl.

Macy collected my hair lovingly away from my face and held it while I threw up. I found her hand when my stomach had settled and squeezed. She helped me to my feet while I washed my mouth out.

"I know it's scary," Macy began, "but you're gonna love being a mom."

I was having a hard time summoning the same level of excitement. "What am I gonna do?"

"Let's get you out of the bathroom," she responded, as if I were one of her preschoolers. I let her lead me to the sofa and sat down while she busied herself in the kitchen. "What's this?" She opened the soup pot.

"Chicken noodle," I said.

"Perfect." She poured some into a bowl for me.

I sniffed it, and it smelled really good.

"Feeling better?" Macy asked.

I nodded.

"Okay." She sat down next to me. "You have to tell Mike when he gets home."

"I don't know if I can," I protested.

"You have to," Macy said firmly.

"We just moved in two days ago. We haven't even been on that many dates."

"It doesn't matter," Macy argued. "He's the father."

"Yes, but what if he reacts badly?" I pouted.

"But he needs to know," Macy persisted.

"Just give me a few days," I bargained. "I'm still in shock."

"It's not my baby, and it's not my relationship, but I'm speaking from experience—it's not going to get any easier to tell him."

"There's something…" I didn't know how to begin. I had promised Macy that I would be safe even when she cautioned me about moving in with a man I didn't know. "There's something about Mike that he's not telling me. We went out to eat yesterday and ran into an old friend of his. They had this really weird vibe, like there was a whole lot they weren't saying."

Macy shrugged. "Could be anything. Could be a grudge over an old girlfriend."

"I don't think so." I frowned, taking another spoonful of soup. "There was another thing. His dad made a comment about his ‘bad-boy past' or something like that."

"Hmm." Macy considered the new information. "I could ask Dillon to do some snooping. He's a wiz with computers. Or Jason is on the police force—he might be able to tell us something."

I shook my head. "If it's nothing and I launch a major investigation, he'll never forgive me."

Macy kept her thoughts to herself, whatever they were. I had dual experiences with failed relationships, but Macy and Lindsey gave me hope. Maybe in Mike I would find what they had found in their husbands. Maybe I could have my happily ever after too, if only I could put these nagging doubts to rest. How was I going to confront him about the future when there was so much I didn't know about the past? It seemed like everything had changed in an instant, and my head was spinning under the pressure.

When Mike came home, he made a big deal out of taking care of me. He brought me a cup of chicken soup from the diner, and I didn't have the heart to tell him I'd already had my fill of soup. I re-evaluated the purchases I had made at the grocery store and decided I couldn't trot out the pickles, no matter how much I wanted one. There wouldn't be a bigger neon sign anywhere in the world pointing to a pregnant woman.

He wanted to kiss me passionately in the doorway, but I sidestepped it, accepting only a peck on the cheek. In addition to the soup, he had brought me flowers and a coloring book.

"What's the coloring book for?" I asked.

"I thought if you were bored, you might want something to do."

That was so kind, I didn't have words for it. Instead of acting grateful, I took the gifts and ran to my own room. Shutting him out, I tried to get my bearings. Macy couldn't be right—there had to be an easier time to tell him about the impending birth. I couldn't possibly tell him now. It would break up our happy home for sure. I stayed in my room for as long as I could without seeming rude. When I went out again, Mike seemed put off.

I tried to explain my behavior by telling him I didn't want to get him sick as well, but I could see he wasn't buying it. We ate his takeout in front of the television, making snide remarks about the actors. It was fun, and I almost let my guard down. But when he tried to put an arm around me, I suddenly realized I was tired and excused myself for bed.

In the hallway, I paused. Which bed should I sleep in? I didn't actually want to distance myself from him, I was just afraid of how serious this whole relationship had become. I finally decided that if I slept in my own bed, it would be too much of a snub. I brushed my teeth, put on my pajamas, and crawled under the covers. Thankfully, I was asleep long before Mike decided to join me. I woke late at night to find his hand across my belly, his eyes closed. Feeling safe, I allowed myself to drift back to dreamland. Maybe all this worry served no purpose. Maybe Mike and I could make it work no matter what the obstacles. I certainly hoped so and resolved to find my courage before too long and let him know he was about to become a father.