It was the longest five minutes of her life.
Pacing the floor, she paused before the foot-tall, tabletop Christmas tree. Her singular attempt at holiday decorating withered from neglect. Needles littered the surface of her tiny kitchen table. She swept them into her palm, then dropped them when the alarm on her phone blared. Her socked feet skidded on the hardwood floor, and she banged her hip against the bathroom doorjamb. The pain calmed her momentarily. Unfortunately, the effect didn’t last. On legs the consistency of noodles, she folded to the edge of the ancient tub.
The pee-dampened stick sported a bright blue line.
****
“What’s wrong? You look like crap.”
“Thanks, girlfriend. I appreciate the confidence boost.” Jane left Shae in the doorway to stagger back to the couch. She slumped onto the cushions and covered her eyes with one arm.
“I went by the pub for dinner, and they said you called in sick. What’s the matter?” Her friend’s purse landed on the coffee table with a thump.
Jane kept her arm over her eyes. “Bathroom.”
“You need to use the bathroom?”
“No.”
There was a moment’s hesitation, then, “Oh, God. Please don’t say you need to throw up. You know I make a terrible nurse. I’ll be puking right beside you.”
She groaned. “Go look in the bathroom.”
The click of Shae’s heels marked her progress. Silence reigned, then a squeal echoed through the apartment. Jane dropped her arm and sat up as Shae bolted from the bathroom carrying a test stick.
“You’re pregnant?” Excited horror made her eyes huge in her pale face.
“According to the manufacturer of that test.” Jane stared at the damning evidence in her best friend’s hand. “I always liked blue. Why did they have to make it blue?”
Shae tapped the stick to her palm. “I don’t have any personal experience, but I’ve heard these home tests can give false readings.”
“That’s why I bought several. I figured on best out of three.”
“Smart thinking, and you shouldn’t panic until you’ve taken them and know for sure.”
“The other two sticks are in the garbage. Apparently pregnancy test manufacturers are all partial to blue.”
Her friend swallowed. “Oh, shit.”
“That was pretty much my reaction, too.” Jane eyed the stick slapping against Shae’s palm. She jerked her chin forward. “You know I peed on that, right?”
“Oh, ick!” The used test stick hit the coffee table with a clatter, and Jane found she could still smile.
Shae slid onto the couch beside her. “What are you going to do?”
She sighed and met her friend’s sober gaze. “I have a baby inside me. I know it’s early, but it’s already a part of me. I can’t get rid of it.” She squeezed her eyes shut against the sudden rush of tears. An arm draped around her shoulder.
“I hate to bring this up, but…”
“Gabe Sutton is the father.” Jane shook her head. “My parents are right. I am a screw-up.”
“No, you’re not. Shit happens sometimes, and single women have babies all the time. Let’s look at this from a different angle. Pink blankets, tiny ballet slippers. It’ll be fun.”
Jane glared at the stick on the coffee table. “Blue seems to be the color of the day. What if it’s a boy?”
“Blue blankets and, considering who the daddy is, little cowboy boots.”
She moaned.
“I know you planned never to see Gabe again, but this changes things. He called again yesterday. My father is royally pissed.”
She lifted her head from the couch to pin her friend with a glower. “I thought your father believed your story.”
Shae scrunched her nose in a grimace. “Dad believes a stranger found my lost cell phone and met Gabe in my place, because he knows me and knows that kind of thing could have happened. But Gabe Sutton hasn’t ever met me, and he isn’t buying the story. Face it, Jane. You did too good a job pretending to be me. Gabe said your imitation of my father was too accurate to have come from someone who didn’t know the man.” She laid a hand on Jane’s. “He’s determined to find you, which means he’s definitely interested. Considering the situation, that’s a plus.”
Jane pushed to her feet to pace. “He doesn’t even know my name. What am I supposed to do? Walk up to him and say, ‘Hi Gabe. I’m the chick who tricked you into believing I was Michael Austin’s daughter two months ago in Paris. Oh, and by the way, I’m having your baby?’”
“I was thinking more along the lines of, ‘Hi, Gabe. I’m the chick who snuck out of your hotel room in Paris before you could say Good morning, beautiful. By the way, I had a really good time—and six orgasms. Oh, and I’m having your baby. Want to get a pizza?’”
Jane laughed at Shae’s cheeky grin, then shoved her fingers through her hair. “Right. That’ll work.”
“I googled him. You’re right. He’s hawt! He left his number that morning in Paris.” She smiled slyly. “It’s in my phone. You should call him.”