Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87913 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87913 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
“I’m pregnant,” I blurt, caving under the pressure wrapping around my insides, and Dad’s head flies my way.
“Oh my God,” Mom breathes.
“Jesus,” Dayton mumbles.
“Damn. Way to rip off the band-aid, sis,” Jacob says quietly, and I try to swallow the panic that rises over the fact that I even shocked my brother.
“Come again,” Dad murmurs.
“I’m pregnant,” I repeat, with tears filling my eyes. It’s on the tip of my tongue to apologize, but I’m not sorry. Every day, I fall a little more in love and get a little more comfortable with the idea of becoming a mom.
I’m not sorry that I’m pregnant. Maybe the timing isn’t great, and maybe I wish that things could have played out a little differently between Dayton and me, but who knows if we would have ever had a reason to get to know each other if I hadn’t ended up pregnant.
Looking sideswiped by the news I just bombed him with, Dad walks to one of the stools at the island and falls onto it as he stares at me in shock. “How did this happen?”
“Dad, do you really need me to sit you down and have the birds and the bees talk?” Jacob asks, and Dad turns to look at him. I can’t see the look on his face, but it must be scary. “Sorry. Too soon.” My brother holds up his hands.
“I’m guessing the baby is Dayton’s?”
“It is,” I whisper, and he nods, rubbing his chest while the color seems to drain from his face.
“Are you okay, honey?” Mom asks, walking around the island to him.
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine.” Mom grabs his wrist and checks his pulse, something she learned to do when Jacob and I were growing up, and she would have CPR class every summer for all of her friends and whoever else wanted to join. I don’t know what she feels, but when her eyes come to me, they are filled with panic. “Call an ambulance.”
“I don’t need an ambulance.” Dad rubs his chest harder as his breathing seems to become erratic.
Dropping my bag off my shoulder, I start to dig through all the random crap I have in it for my cell phone.
“I got it, baby,” Dayton tells me, bending down to kiss my forehead before stepping out of the room with his phone against his ear. I watch him go, with my heart in my throat, then spin toward my father when there is a thud.
“Dad!” I rush across the room, dodging the bottle of champagne that is rolling across the floor.
“I’m fine, sweetheart,” he tries to assure me, but I can tell that even he’s worried now. With my own panic starting to make me lightheaded, I remember a news clip I saw one time.
“Do you have any aspirin?” I ask Mom, and she meets my gaze.
“I think so.”
“I’ll stay with him while you go look,” I tell her, and she swallows, looking at Dad.
“I’m okay, honey,” he whispers to her, and she leans in, pressing her mouth to his before rushing out of the kitchen.
“Jacob.” I turn to my brother, my stomach clenching when I see that he’s white as a ghost. His eyes slowly meet mine. “Come help me get him to the living room.”
“I’m okay here,” Dad argues.
“You’ll be better on the couch.” I slide under his arm to help him stand as Dayton walks into the kitchen.
“An ambulance is on the way,” he tells me with the phone still at his ear.
Thank God. I sag in relief.
“I found it.” Mom stumbles over her own feet as she runs back into the kitchen. “I’m okay,” she assures us as she rights herself, looking between me, Dad, and Dayton, who is trying to take over my spot under Dad’s arm. “Why are you moving him?”
“I think he’d be more comfortable on the couch.”
“I think he should stay where he is. He shouldn’t move around.” She opens the bottle she’s holding and shakes out one aspirin. “Chew this up,” she orders.
“Give me some water,” Dad tells her, but she shakes her head.
“No, chew it up. It will work faster.” She juts her hand toward him to urge him to take from her.
My dad rolls his eyes. “I’m not chewing it up, hon—”
“Chew up the fucking pill!” she shrieks, and my eyes widen.
My mom never curses. Or yells. Ever.
“Okay, honey. I’ll chew it up,” Dad agrees, using a tone he’s always reserved for calming her when she’s overwhelmed. He takes the pill from her and puts it in his mouth.
“Where is the ambulance?” Mom asks Dayton.
“How far out are you guys?” he asks whoever is on the phone, then looks at Mom. “They’re about five minutes away.”
“Jacob, go wait out front to let them in,” Mom tells him, and when I look over, he’s still frozen in horror.