“You tell Mama Kitty, then, honey.”
“I guess this thing with Duff has made me consider a lot of stuff I haven’t wanted to look at too closely. He treats me so differently than the other guys I’ve been with. He made his interest clear from the start—there haven’t been any guessing games with him. Nothing to chase, which I realize in looking back, I’ve always kind of liked. Something in me wanted the challenge, but this has been so much healthier for me. I feel like I’ve grown, you know? Because I wanted him despite him being so transparent with me. In fact, he was so up-front that at first I wasn’t even sure if he was being genuine, but he’s never given me any indication that he wasn’t—he simply is who he is, and he let me know it. And now, when I look back at my past relationships, I can see the hundred red flags I chose to ignore because . . . why? It occurred to me last night in a sort of blinding flash that I haven’t felt as if I deserved more. And . . . and this is the hard part. Because I knew instantly it was because of how my father’s always treated me. Less than, you know? But fuck him. Fuck. Him. How could he have done that to his own daughter? His own flesh and blood? Unless, of course, he suspected I wasn’t? Was that a factor? Did my mother cheat before? Or did he never really trust her because that’s just the way he is? No one is ever good enough except for my brother the preacher—Dad’s little clone. But I can’t even deal with all that right now. Whatever the reason, I’ve just figured out why—finally—as strong a woman as I’ve always thought myself, I’ve let men walk all over me. And I’m fucking horrified.”
“Oh, sweetie. Don’t be so hard on yourself. We can be totally kick-ass in every area but relationships—it’s not only you. And it doesn’t change what you and Duff have, does it? You’re having one of those ‘dark nights of the soul’ and it’s lasting a few days, but what does it mean, other than you’re doing some self-reflection, and learning from it?”
Layla shoved a hand into her curls, pushing them away from her face. “I guess you’re right. But it’s hard. I’m starting to panic, which isn’t like me. And I actually cried during sex the other night, if you can believe it. I’ve been crying a lot, which really isn’t like me. I cried a little this morning, mopping my stupid floors, and . . . Fuck.”
“What is it? Are you crying right now, honey?”
“No.” She sniffed as the small lie spilled from her tongue. “But I’m crying all the time, and I’m bloated and haven’t been able to eat much, and I thought I was . . . lovesick, or something. But I’m not in love. I’m not. I’m just sick. And . . . Fuck, fuck, fuck, Kitty!”
“Layla?”
She could hear the alarm in her friend’s voice, but it was nothing compared to the alarm in her own head. The tears spilled down her cheeks and she wiped them away with an impatient hand.
“Kitty, goddamn it all! I just realized . . . I think . . . I could be pregnant.”
? ? ?
AN HOUR LATER Kitty had picked her up, driven her to the closest pharmacy to buy a pregnancy test, and now they were back at her place. Layla was standing in the bathroom doorway, reading the instructions on the box, her heart a small jackhammer trying to break through the wall of her chest.
“Kitty, how do I do this?”
“Haven’t you ever taken one of these tests before?” her friend asked.
Layla looked up. “No. Never.”
“Then you’re the only woman who hasn’t. All you have to do is pee on the stick, keep it level and wait for the results. It’s easy, I promise.”
“Easy for you—you’re not the one who’s pregnant.”
Kitty came to put an arm around her shoulders, giving her a squeeze. “And neither are you. You’re just going through a lot of emotions right now. This is simply to ease your mind. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Then go to it. I’ll be right here.”
Layla shut the bathroom door and read through the instructions on the box one more time before following the steps. Setting the stick on the bathroom counter, she opened the door. “Okay, start the timer, Kitty.”
“Started. Come on, honey. Come sit by me.”
Layla settled next to Kitty on the side of the bed and laid her head on her shoulder. “This is so stupid. I’m so stupid.”
“Shh. I won’t have you bashing my best friend like that. And I’ve taken these damn tests at least half a dozen times.”
“You have?”
“You know birth control pills don’t agree with me.”
“Yes, but condoms—”
“Don’t always work,” Kitty interrupted.
“They have for me.” Suddenly Layla brightened, lifting her head to look at her friend. “Hey. Maybe I can’t even get pregnant.”
“Is that what you really want?” Kitty asked quietly.
Her shoulders dropped. “No. No, I think I might like to have kids someday. I know I do. Just not now. I’m only thirty-one. I have plenty of time to figure that out, don’t I?”
The timer rang on Kitty’s cell phone.
“It’s time, hon. Let’s take a peek at that little pee stick.”
They got up together and walked into the bathroom, leaning over the sink, where the narrow piece of white plastic shone like a beacon with its two pretty pink lines. Layla turned to Kitty.
“Fuck.”
? ? ?
DUFF GLANCED AT the clock on the wall of the nearly completed shop and saw it was already ten at night. The new tool chests they’d ordered had finally arrived, as well as much of their supply of standard parts, and they’d been doing a lot of organizing. He wiped his hands on the rag sticking out of his back pocket.
“What do you say we call it a day, cousin?”
Jamie looked up at him from where he was kneeling on the floor, putting some metal shelving together. “You okay?”
“Sure I am. Just a wee bit tired.”
“A new girl will do that.”
“It’s not as if I’ve been spending every night with her, cousin.”