Page 66 of Solitude

“I-I,” I stutter then I repeat the words for the thirtieth time since Gwen called my phone—something she’s probably regretting right about now, “I’m pregnant!”

“Okay, Winnie,” Gwen finally says, placating me. I imagine if she were here she’d place a hand on my back and shush me. “Calm down. Take a breath. I don’t think I’ve heard you inhale once this whole time.”

I follow her instructions and inhale noisily, my body trembling as I try to force myself to calm down. My lungsfill with air for the first time since I woke up this morning, and I plop down on the edge of the bathtub.

“Gwen… What am I going to do?”

“You’re going to buck the fuck up, first of all,” she orders, voice firm and unyielding. “You’re going to wash your face, brush your hair, put on a pair of yoga pants, and get your cute, pregnant ass to Sugar. Then I’m going to force you to try these new flavors I made, and life will go on as usual.”

My nose scrunches. “You’re so bossy.”

“I’ll come out there. Don’t test me. Then you’ll have to explain to Beth why you look like someone rocked your shit five ways to Sunday.”

“Rude.” I mumble, “You can’t even see me.”

Gwen scoffs. “You cry all the time. Trust me, I know exactly what you look like, babe. So come on. Let me comfort you and help you forget for a bit. Then we’ll make a game plan.”

“Game plan?”

“Well, yeah.” Gwen lowers her voice. “I’m assuming it’s Beck’s…right?”

My eyes widen. “Oh, my god, Gwen! Why would you even—yes! It’s Beck’s.”

“I mean, I’m going to stand ten toes behind you if it’s not, but?—”

“It is, so stop it.”

“Great! Then we can figure out what happens next.”

“Next?”

Gwen hums. “Are you purposely being an idiot?”

“Ouch.”

“You know what I mean by next, Winnie. You’re just going through the rollercoaster of emotions and changing hormones right now.” Gwen gasps. “Oh, this explains why you cried when you saw the new flowers I bought last week.”

“They were pretty!”

“You cried, Win. Real tears.”

I roll my eyes and stand up. “Whatever. I’ll see you soon.”

“Good.”

I hesitate then say, “Thanks. Love you, Gwen.”

I can practically hear the smile in Gwen’s voice as she replies, “Yeah…love you, too. Now get that ass in gear.”

“Yes ma’am.”

It takes me a few minutes after I hang up the phone to pull myself together, but Gwen was right. Once I wash my face, brush the knots out of my hair, and pull on a pair of athletic shorts and pretend I don’t notice the way my belly is protruding slightly I feel marginally better. I doubt I’ll feel that way in half an hour when Gwen’s giving me all the harsh truths about life, but I’ll take it through blurry eyes like a woman.

These are the moments when I wish I had a mom. A decent one instead of the uncaring version I was given. Because aren’t you supposed to run to your mom when you get life altering news? Shouldn’t my mom be there in my corner to talk me off the ledge? Not that I’m not gratefulfor Gwen’s friendship, but there’s a part of me that feels hollowed out by my lack of family right now.

Shouldn’t my mom be the first one to know she’s going to have a grandchild?

Shaking my head, I finish getting ready, grab my keys, and lock the door to the guesthouse. Beth is out back near the chicken coop, and she waves at me, smiling widely as she straightens with her basket in hand. Her graying hair is in a clip, tendrils flying wildly around her slender face. She’s wearing a plain, cream apron that’s already covered in a few stains.

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