Page 9 of This Means War

“Typical man throwing money at a problem,” Lydia mutters. “You do realize we have a reception to go to.”

“Josh and Delia will be taking photos for another thirty minutes at least.” I brush off her concern. “No one will even miss us.”

In response she just crosses her arms across her chest and stares out the window, but now that I’ve started talking, I can’t stop.

“I don’t understand,” I say. “We had sex a month ago. How are you just now realizing that you might be pregnant?”

Thunder flashes across her eyes. “Excuse me, but since that sex you so casually speak of, was my first and only time, you shouldn’t find it hard to believe that I don’t give much thought to the timeliness of my period. I’ve never had to worry about being pregnant before.”

“Okay, fine,” I relent. “So what? You just started throwing up today and suddenly realized yourperiod was two weeks late?”

“Yup.” She raises her eyebrows and moves her head side to side along her neck, like she’s daring me to question her further.

I open my mouth to reply, then promptly shut it. There’s just nothing left to say. It’s not as if her finding out a week earlier would have changed the fact that she’s almost certainly pregnant. A new realization hits me, and I sink back against the seat as all of the fight leaves my body. I can’t believe this is happening. I’ve been having sex for years without any consequences and now, when I’m only seven months away from achieving a goal I’ve had for even longer than that, it’s all going to come crashing down. Because of one infuriating woman.

“Cole?” Lydia’s voice is anxious now. She’s sensed the change in me.

I know I should put aside my own feelings and worry about her, but I just can’t seem to get past all of the ways this is going to affectme. So instead of doing the right thing and offering her even an iota of emotional support, I say tightly, “Let’s just get the test.”

We drive the rest of the way in silence. When we arrive I’m about to offer to go in and grab the test for her, but then I spot a teenager snapping photos of her friends. Even all the way down here in Florida, thousands of miles from Michigan, fear grips me. I can picture the news headline if someone were to spot me, or worse, take a picture of me buying a pregnancy test.Unwed Mayoral CandidateImpregnates One Night Stand. I’d be kissing my family values platform goodbye.

“I’ll wait here,” I tell her. She shoots me a surprised look that turns into a frown, but doesn’t push it.

I watch her go, regret and anxiety twisting my stomach into knots.

She takes so long inside that I start to wonder if she decided to take the test in the store’s bathroom, but when she finally emerges her facial expression gives nothing away. She just marches across the parking lot with a plastic bag in one hand and, curiously enough, a jug of orange juice tucked under her other arm.

“Did you take the test?” I ask her as soon as she’s closed the door behind her.

She frowns at me. “What? In there?” She indicates the drug store. “No way. I’m not telling our potential future child that I found out that I was pregnant with them inside a CVS restroom with toilet paper all over the floor.”

I ignore the tremor of panic that ran through me when she said “our child” and ask, “Then what took so long?”

She bristles. “If you must know, I was talking to the cashier. She was kind enough to give me some morning sickness tips.” She dumps out the contents of the bag, and I see that in addition to the test, she’s also purchased a bottle of B6 vitamins and a sleep aid called Unisom. Weird, but not important right now.

“You talked to the cashier?” I exclaim, remembering Josh’s earlier jokes about her comradery with a cashier named Hilda. “You didn’t tell her about me, did you?”

Lydia rolls her eyes. “Now that you mention it, yes I did. I asked her if she too had slept with a world-class jerk named Cole Jacobson.”

I scowl at her. “Listen, I can’t have it out there for the world that I got someone pregnant, okay?”

“And, by the world,” she slumps back against her seat, “I assume you mean Ashley Allen.”

I cock my head at her. I hadn’t even thought about how Ashley factors into all of this. Obviously she won’t be happy, but I have more important things to think about. Like my campaign.

“I’m not worried about Ashley,” is all I say.

“Whatever. I’m really not concerned about your love life.” She raps on the divider. “Hey, Joe,” she says to the limo driver, who I had no idea we were on a first name basis with, “would you be a dear and drive us back to the reception hall now?”

“Of course, Lydia.” Joe nods. “You want a cup for that orange juice, because we have cups in that little compartment there.” He indicates a covered storage area between the seats.

Lydia positively beams. “Wow, thanks, Joe. That’s exactly what I need.”

“Any time, Lydia.” Joe smiles back, then rolls the divider back up.

I gape at her.

“What?” she asks as she removes a cup from thecompartment.

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