Page 65 of Karma's Kiss

Kendra blows out an unsteady breath. “Then you have to talk to Sawyer. He deserves to know what’s going on.”

“You think?”

“Umyes, Madison! You cannot let this turn into an episode ofJerry Springer. Recent events aside, I don’t actually condone duping or lying to your partner. Especially about something this important!”

“Could have fooled me… What was all that ‘teach him a lesson’ nonsense you were spewing last week?”

“Yes well, that wasbeforelast night! Now, I want you to do the right thing. Talk to him.Now.Before things get out of hand.”

It would have been convenient to see Sawyer this morning when he came by Queenie’s house with coffees and pastries. I could have seen where his head was at, whether he was regretful about last night or not,beforeI found myself in this current predicament.

Now, it’s gotten complicated.

Queenie’s all too happy to let me have the morning off from work even with Amber and Michael’s wedding next weekend. “Go. Do what you need to do.”

I take her car and blast old Shania Twain to give me strength as I drive to a pharmacy two towns over—just to ensure I don’t bump into any familiar faces in the “family planning” aisle. After I’ve made my purchases, I go into the crummy bathroom, shove myself into a stall, and read the instructions for the ovulation test under the yellow-tinted fluorescent lights. Simple enough. We’re looking for two dark lines, similar to a pregnancy test.

Except, I can’t do it. My hand shakes as I stare at the box. Do I really want to know one way or another? So soon?

It’d be simpler if I wasn’t ready, if I was feeling the way I should right now: panicked and nauseous. I can’t get over a broken engagement, move states, bounce between jobs, be in a weird situationship,andhave an unplanned pregnancy. The Madison McCall at Auburn would have died if she found herself in these circumstances. Peeing on a stick in a public bathroom? Plunging into the unknown? Oh no. Never.

But I’m not that girl anymore.

Weirdly enough, here, at rock bottom, I feel stronger and more independent than I have in years. Living in Matthew’s shadow made me feel small and helpless—I’m so resentful of the position he held over me, that Iletmyself be put in that role.

There is a way forward here, and it might not be picture perfect, but it’d be quite an adventure. I can make my move back home permanent. I can ask Queenie to bring me on full time. I can be a single mom. I’ve watched Queenie do it for more than a decade; I know what it takes and I’m not scared of the work. Not when I think of the alternative.

I look down at the ovulation kit again, and a surge of hope makes me feel unsteady on my feet.

In the end, I take the test. I find that I’m ovulating, just like Kendra and I determined I would be. And I walk out of that pharmacy bathroom with a dopey smile on my face right up until I get to my car and check my phone to see a missed call from Sawyer.

I know I can’t avoid him forever, but I can’t call him back today, right now! It’s out of the question. I need time to wrap my head around everything before I drag another person into this chaos. He and I still have so much to work out between us without throwing a child into the mix.

A CHILD.

I gulp at the thought of what he’ll do when I tell him there’s a possibility we conceived last night. He’s going to flip out. He might even be mad; a lot of men would be.

Not wanting to go down that murky path right now, I shove my phone back into my purse and bury it deep at the bottom. For today at least, avoidance is the name of the game. I turn Shaniaway upon my drive home.

Fortunately, there’s too much going on this week at the Wildflower Wedding offices to allow me to wallow in my own feelings for long. Everything is falling to pieces around here. Queenie finally found the slip of paper with her business bank account login information. We’ve been looking for it since I arrived back in town.

What I find on her online banking portal is nothing short of disastrous. I try to remain calm as I explain, “Your accounts are overdrawn and your business credit card is maxed out. How can that be?”

I look at Queenie over my shoulder. She’s squinting at the figures on my screen like they’re hieroglyphics that mean nothing to her.

“Didn’t you send out invoices this month, Marge?” Queenie asks.

“Invoices?” It’s like Marge has never heard the word before.

I try not to panic. I spend the next three hours combing through records and correcting old, never-sent invoices because as it currently stands, Queenie can’t pay her bills this month. She also can’t run payroll. Marge and Queenie don’t seem to think this is a big deal. As if paying rent and overhead is just something that will happen on its own.

“Should we get sandwiches for lunch?” Marge inquires mildly.

Queenie hums in agreement.

“You can’t afford sandwiches!” I cry, desperate for them to understand how bad this is. Queenie isn’t running her company properly. This place is a house of cards waiting to collapse. How does no one else see it?!

“Okay, everyone calm down,” Queenie says, giving Marge a private look that clearly saysWhat’s up with her?“I’m going to run out for some Schlotzsky’s, and once we eat, we can worry about everything else.”

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