Truth

“She is. And she’s hoping you will stay here.”


Claire exhaled, “My room will need a lock.”

“That isn’t a problem.”

His answer made her bristle. “It needs to be a lock that operates from the inside.” She clarified, “Also I will keep my phone at all times and have access to your Wi-Fi.”

He chuckled, “You drive a hard bargain. I told you before you should go into business. You are a master negotiator.”

Claire remembered Harry’s words: When it comes to Mr. Rawlings, your negotiating skills are stellar! My guess is that you’ll leave your little meeting and move back to Iowa. She wasn’t moving. This was just a visit.





As soon as she hung up with Tony, Claire went to the store and bought a home pregnancy kit. Sitting at her dressing table and waiting for the results, the memories of her phone calls filtrated her thoughts. She wanted to go to Caleb’s wedding. However, the results of this test could make everything different.

Claire stared at the white plastic stick and waited for the timer to sound on her iPhone. Did she really need this little piece of plastic to tell her what she already knew? She was experiencing all the symptoms: nausea - more intense in the morning, hunger – all the time and tiredness – even after napping, and thirst – unquenchable at times. Looking at the two small openings within the stick, Claire saw lines begin to form. The directions said: results in three minutes. It had been less than one, and the vertical blue line in the control window appeared before her eyes, indicating the test was working.

Her head pounded with questions. What symbol would appear in the other window? Would she see a lone horizontal stripe meaning not pregnant, or a horizontal and a vertical stripe indicating pregnant. Essentially the directions said a plus sign would form in the case of pregnancy. Plus was often synonymous for positive; thinking about that possibility, positive was not the word Claire believed she’d use to describe her current mental state.

She closed her eyes and debated her distress. Was it from the nausea twisting her stomach or the fear of the unknown quickening her heart rate? The buzz of the timer triggered her iPhone to vibrate across the dressing table. Claire’s eyes opened. Before her on the table was her answer -- the indicator window revealed a blue plus.

The bottom fell out of Claire’s world. She eased herself from the stool and sank to the bathroom floor. The ceramic tile cooled her legs, while the solid wall supported her head. Mentally she assessed the timeline: mid-early -- April period, two weeks later – dream, three weeks later – San Diego and now – here she was, seven weeks since her last menstruation. How had she not thought of this before?

Reaching for her phone, she scrolled her contacts for Amber’s doctor, one of the most sought after gynecologists in the Silicon Valley. After San Diego, Claire called and made an appointment, hoping to get a prescription for birth control pills. The usual waiting period for new patients was up to six months. Amber’s referral shortened the wait considerably. Claire’s appointment was in another three weeks. However, now things were different, waiting wasn’t an option. Then she realized the day, Sunday, she would have to wait another day to call.

Tears moistened her cheeks as she placed her head on her knees and gave in to the overwhelming emotion. Before she could make any decisions, or talk to anyone, Claire needed answers. First and foremost, how pregnant was she -- seven weeks or four weeks?

Finally, she made her way back into her bedroom and into the overpowering aroma of roses; thankfully the flowery aroma was pleasurable -- the three bouquets saturated every molecule of the room. She’d meant to ask Tony if he’d sent the other two bouquets. However, with the talk of the wedding and thoughts of the pregnancy, she forgot.

Claire went to her laptop and Googled answers. How effective are condoms? The search engine spun -- answers appeared: if used correctly, condoms are 98% effective. With common usage the failure rate grows to between 14 and 15%.

What do they mean if used correctly? How many ways are there to use a condom?





Aleatha Romig's books