Page 83 of Her Filthy Grump
Kameron’s going to flip his lid. I clutch my breasts. Yep. Still tender as fuck. And I’ve been to the bathroom five times and still no blood. I’ve never prayed for a period before today.
Not that I don’t want a baby. Or for that matter, a baby with Kameron, but the last thing I want is to trap him to me and force him into a relationship. It would never work. He’d blame me for getting pregnant and resent me. It won’t matter if it was my intention or not.
And he’s right. People who feel obligated to raise children–resent the person who forced parenthood on them and the child. God. Tears flood my eyes and stream down my cheeks. I don’t want that for him. Sobs rack my shoulders until I can no longer catch my breath. What am I going to do?
When I hear a car door slam shut, I jump. She’s back. I run to the door while wiping tears from my cheeks. There’s no use pretending I haven’t been crying.
“I’m back.” She yanks the screen open and stops. Her nose wrinkles. “You look worse.”
“Thanks.” I glare at her and snatch the brown paper bag from her hand.
Hell, I haven’t had a brown paper bag since my college days when we’d buy liquor at the gas station and pretend it wasn’t a brown paper bag with alcohol. Yeah. There was no use pretending it was something else.
“Did anyone see you?”
“I don’t think so.” As I walk to the bathroom, she follows behind me.
“Here goes nothing.” I pull out the carton and stare at it. Inside this seven by three-inch box dictates where my future goes. Positive and life as I know it changes forever. Negative and….
Damn. Negative is worse than positive. My fingers shake as I try to pull one end of the carton open. Several seconds later, Harbor grabs it from my hand and rolls her eyes. “We’re going to be here all day.”
“Fine. You do it. While you’re at it, pee on it.”
“Don’t be stupid. Being pregnant isn’t the end of the world.”
“I know.” I sniff loudly. “Now I’m afraid it’s going to be negative.”
“Shit, girl.” She pops the end open. “You’re like being on a roller coaster. Do you want to have a baby or not?”
“Yes, I do.” I straighten my shoulders and wait as she pulls out the package and tears open the plastic.
She smiles. “Then, congratulations.”
“We don’t know if it’s positive or not.”
She places the pregnancy test in my hand and wraps hers over mine. “Yes, we do. You’re going to rock being a mom–with or without Kameron in your life. So, get to peeing on this stick so we can celebrate. I’m hoping for a girl so we can dress her up and take her on photoshoots.”
A smile curves up to my cheeks as excitement radiates through me. “Yes, I will. Team girl.” I’m pregnant with Kameron’s baby. And it’s a girl. It’s like the universe is shouting loud and clear.
As I squat on the toilet, I wrinkle my nose. “This is not as easy as they make it sound.”
“I got you the curved one. At least you won’t be peeing on your fingers.”
“Easier said than done.” I snort and count to thirty.Shit. I can’t go.“Sing the A.B.C.s or flip on the water.”
“God, you’re crazy.” She giggles and then sings. By the time she gets to ‘U’, the stick and my fingers are covered in urine.
“Thank you.” I pull the stick out and wave it. “You were wrong. I still got my fingers wet.”
She snaps on the faucet and lays down a paper towel. “Wash up, and let’s start planning baby showers and names.” Then, she pulls out her phone and sets a timer.
My stomach flops as I lay the stick down and wash my hands. What if I’m not pregnant? My heart skips a beat and sweat pops out on my back.You’ll be fine. You can have another baby.
Damn it. I want this one.My teeth grind together, and I snap the faucet off.
Harbor paces the floor like I did in the kitchen–only my bathroom is so tiny she practically runs into me every time she swings around. “Do you think he’ll be mad?”
“I don’t know.” I wring my hands together. “He has some stupid notion that he won’t be a good father, but from how he describes his childhood, I think he practically raised his siblings.”