instructions,” Gina said as she pulled a folded sheet from the box.
They pored over the instructions for a few minutes, then Gina handed Charlie a cellophane-wrapped stick.
“Do your thing,” she said.
Charlie managed a small smile, only letting it drop when her friend left the room. Her stomach knotted with dread, she pulled down her jeans and sat on the loo. For a moment she thought she was going to have to try later, but her body finally came to the party. She followed the instructions and then set the stick on the edge of the vanity while she flushed, pulled up her jeans and washed her hands.
“Okay,” she called.
Gina opened the door and passed Charlie her glass, now brimming with red wine. “For courage.”
Charlie stared at it. “I don’t know if I should. If it’s positive…”
She couldn’t quite bring herself to say the word pregnant yet. But if she was, then alcohol was on the no-go list. Especially in bucket-like quantities.
“Shit. You’re right. Sorry.”
Gina set down the glass on the vanity and they both sat on the edge of the tub.
“I take it that means you wouldn’t consider a termination, then?” Gina asked.
Charlie frowned. Her brain hadn’t gotten that far yet.
Or maybe it had, since she’d been so quick to reject the wine.
“If it seemed like the best thing to do, I would.”
“But…?”
“I don’t know. When I was younger, I wouldn’t have thought twice about it. There was no way I would have been able to cope then. But now… it might not be convenient. It might not be easy or wise or planned or anything. But I could do it now.” She spoke slowly, thinking out loud. “I think I could be an okay mum. And I’ve always imagined that one day I’d have kids.”
Although the image of herself with a child had always been part of some nebulous future-vision of her life that incorporated a man she loved, the whole notion was so far off and distant in her mind that it was barely in focus.
“I think you’d be a great mum. But it’s hard yards doing it all on your own.”
“I know.” Charlie studied the back of her hands, mulling things over.
“You don’t have to make any decisions right now,” Gina said. “Let’s take this one step at a time.”
Charlie glanced at the white stick on the vanity. “Do you think it’s been five minutes yet?”
Gina checked her watch. “Right on the knocker.”
Charlie continued to stare at the stick without moving. She could feel her heart pounding inside her chest and her palms were suddenly sweaty. Funny that she’d felt almost exactly the same way when she’d been flirting with Rhys all those weeks ago, hoping he felt the same way she did.
Not funny ha-ha, obviously. Funny weird.
Funny scary.
“Want me to…?” Gina offered.
“I’ll do it.” Charlie roused herself and reached for the test. Her fingers closed around the thumb grip and she lifted it. For a moment the light hit the stick so directly that she couldn’t see anything. Then she blinked and she was staring at two pink lines.
All the air left her lungs in a rush.
She was pregnant.
Oh, wow.
She was pregnant.
An elbow dug into her ribs.
“Don’t forget to breathe, okay?” Gina said.
Charlie realized she hadn’t inhaled for a while and she sucked in a big lungful of air.
“You want a glass of water?”
“No. I’m okay. I just… This is surreal. God. Maybe you should pinch me.”
Gina’s arm slid around her shoulders, warm and reassuring. A human anchor tethering her to reality.
“This is the last thing I ever imagined happening to me,” Charlie said. She couldn’t take her eyes off the two lines. “I mean, I could hardly get a guy to look at me in high school. Then I meet Rhys and we have one night together—one measly night—and now I’m pregnant? We had sex three times. We used protection. It just doesn’t seem possible.”
“I know, but the stick says it is.” Gina’s arm tightened around her shoulders. “Come on. Let’s go into the living room. Sitting on the tub like this is making my bum numb.”
Charlie allowed her friend to usher her onto the couch. Charlie tried to pummel her shocked brain into action. She needed to think. She needed to strategize.
“We have a few options before us, Ms. Long,” Gina said as she sat beside Charlie. “We can talk this to death. I can distract you with fripperies and foolishness. Or I can go home and come back tomorrow and we can talk this to death.”
Charlie looked at her friend. She honestly had no idea what to do or say next.
Gina smiled sympathetically. “I’m going to go with option C, because you look as though you’ve been hit by a truck. I’ll go home, but I want you to call me, no matter what time it is, if you need to talk, okay? No matter what. There is no such thing as convention or common courtesy in a crisis.”
“Thank you,” Charlie said simply, because suddenly being alone felt exactly like what she needed.
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