Page 78 of I Can't Even

Quaid’s lips twitched and he handed me the bag. “Bathroom is in the back. Let’s go.”

I was already rolling my eyes. “I’ll do it at the restaurant next door.”

The restaurant next door was Panera, and though it wasn’t my favorite, they had really good brownies that had the perfect amount of powdered sugar on them.

“Fine,” Quaid said as we all fell into step out the door and to the Panera around the corner.

Quaid escorted me to the bathroom and checked the room before standing outside like a sentinel.

I rolled my eyes and disappeared into a stall, laughing to myself when I pulled out five different pregnancy tests from five different brands.

I peed on them all, washed up, then headed to the hall where I handed the bag to Quaid.

He took them and looked at them warily.

“Are you still nauseous?” he wondered as he escorted me to our table.

I was already shaking my head before he finished. “I’ve been fine since this morning.”

“That tracks with being pregnant…” he admitted.

I took my seat and raised my brows at Germaine, who was chowing down on a brownie without waiting for his lunch.

“That better not be mine,” I narrowed my eyes at him.

“You know,” he said. “This explains your obsession with eating everyone’s snack cakes.”

“Speaking of snack cakes,” I turned to look at Quaid. “Your dad and I got our toes done this morning. Look at my toes.”

The nail tech had painted snack cakes on all of my toes but my pinky one because apparently, I was in the no pinky nail club.

Quaid’s eyes widened as he looked at them then to his dad. “You got your toes done?”

He nodded. “They shelk-lacked them.”

“Shellac,” I giggled. “And he painted his red, white and blue for the Fourth of July.”

“Ahh,” Quaid shook his head. “I don’t even know what to say to that.”

“Me neither.” Germaine shrugged, as if he couldn’t have cared less that he’d gotten them done. “But I couldn’t very well just sit there while she got hers done without paying for the seat I took up. Then things kind of devolved from there.”

“Well, what happened was he saw me getting my feet massaged, and he wanted it done, too. And there was a bit of a language barrier, and well, he ended up getting the whole treatment. Shellac and all,” I said just before the buzzer buzzed, indicating our food was ready.

Quaid glanced at the side of the table where our plastic bag of pregnancy tests sat, then said, “I’m going to get the food.”

“He’s scared.” Germaine lifted the bag and said, “You’re pregnant.”

I didn’t need the clarification.

I knew.

My breasts were tender.

My waist was thicker.

The tiredness that I’d associated with burning the candle at both ends had more meaning now.

“I know,” I said as I took the test out that clearly said pregnant and placed it at his spot.

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