Page 9 of Maybe My Baby

And then he was gone.

Her morning sickness was regrettably unpredictable. And it was not limited to the dawn hours. She spent most of Sunday and Monday reading in bed and trying not to barf.

True to his word, Donovan kept in touch. Sometimes he sent silly memes via text. Sometimes a short cheer-up message in the vein ofeverything will work out.He was giving her space and yet being supportive. What more could she want in a man or the father of her child?

At some point on Monday, it occurred to her she was probably not going to be able to make it through an eight-hour shift at the ice cream shop. She felt like such a failure. Clearly, she was not going to be one of those super-capable pregnant women who kept their careers going right up until the hour their little one popped out.

Her assistant manager, Myrna, was not only an employee and coworker, but she was also a friend. So when Ginny called her sheepishly on Monday afternoon and asked if Myrna could drop by for an hour, she didn’t even question it.

When the doorbell rang, Ginny had just spent half an hour hunched over the toilet. She hadn’t dared even glance in the mirror. She had a good idea what she must look like.

But maybe Ginny underestimated her appearance, because when she opened the door and Myrna stood there, the other woman’s eyes widened. “Good Lord,” she said, her eyebrows shooting up in alarm. “What’s wrong?”

“Don’t worry,” Ginny said glumly. “I’m not contagious.”

When they were seated in the living room, Myrna stared at her. The other woman was in her early forties. She and her husband, Jim, had moved to Blossom Branch when they got married almost twenty years ago.

Myrna finally broke the silence. “Talk to me, hon. No offense, but you look like crap.”

“No surprise to me.” Ginny shredded the tissue in her hands. “I have a secret, and no one knows. Butyouneed to know because of the shop. And I have to ask you not to tell anybody.”

Myrna frowned. “Of course. You can talk to me about anything.”

Ginny scrubbed her hands over her face. “I’m pregnant.”

“Holy hell.”

“Yeah.”

The older woman eyed her sharply. “Morning sickness?”

“Oh, yes. And then some. I can’t work if I’m dashing to the bathroom every fifteen minutes. The health department would love that.”

“I can cover the extra hours,” Myrna said. “Don’t you worry.”

“But we’re so busy late in the week,” Ginny wailed. “It takes three of us.”

“I’ll draft Jim. To be honest, he’s just quit his job, so it would be good for him to get out of the house.”

“What happened?” Jim was a delivery driver for one of the big shipping companies.

“They had two guys walk out, but corporate wouldn’t approve any new hires. It was already a hard job with long hours. Now Jim and the other employees are being asked to do the impossible. So, Jim quit.”

“Are you okay with it?”

“Oh, sure. We’re pretty frugal. We’ve saved a fair amount over the years. Let us do this for you, Ginny. It’s not charity, you know. We’ll be drawing two paychecks.”

“What you’re doing is saving my life.”

Myrna smiled gently. “So why am I the only person who knows about this? What about Donovan?”

That simple question—plus all the hormones—was enough to send a newly pregnant woman into a crying fit. When the sobbing and sniffling finally dwindled, Ginny told Myrna everything. About the rent increase and the moving-in offer from Donovan and not wanting to trap a man who hadn’t saidI love youyet and how Ginny wasn’t even sure she wanted to sell ice cream anymore. But how could she be unemployed and pregnant and dump all that on a guy who didn’t deserve to have his life upended?

Myrna snorted. “Don’t kid yourself, Ginny. That baby didn’t get in there by way of immaculate conception. Donovan bears responsibility, too.”

“I suppose.”

“Look, honey. You’re sick and shocked and hormonal. Give yourself a break. It sounds like you have some big decisions to make. Promise me you won’t worry about Peaches and Cream. You can trust me to keep things going.”

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