Even if I’d wanted to stand, I felt to weak to do so. I plopped into one of the miserably uncomfortable chairs in front of her desk.
“Does Big Poppa have to pull out his shotgun and march someone down the aisle?”
I chewed on my lower lip. It always cracked me up that she referred to her husband as Big Poppa. I couldn’t listen to Biggie’s song anymore without going into hysterics.
“Well?”
Mr. Montgomery going after Reese with a shotgun wouldn’t work out well. I shook my head.
She craned her neck, then wiggled her fingers. “Hands.”
Sighing, I lifted my hands. “I don’t have a ring.”
“Then Big Poppa needs his 12-gauge to fire some buckshot into some body’s behind.”
I lifted my brows.
“How far along are you?”
“10 weeks.” In four days, I’d be eleven weeks.
“Have you seen a doctor? Do you take your vitamins regularly?” She snatched her notebook from her two-tiered file holder and grabbed a pen from the middle drawer. “And I want that boy’s contact information.”
“I wouldn’t exactly describe Reese as a boy,” I mumbled.
“How old is that irresponsible fool?”
“Thirty-one.”
Laying her pen down, she leaned back in her seat and rubbed her temples. “You’re about to send my blood pressure through the roof, Ainsley.”
“I’m fine,” I rushed to reassure her. “Except morning sickness hits me at any time during the day.” I slid to the edge of my seat and raised my hands in supplication. “Don’t fire me. I need my job now more than ever.”
“Fire you?” She gasped. “Ainsley Valois, if you know nothing else about me, you know I live by Christian tenets. It would be against everything I believe in to turn my back on you and the pickle you’re in.”
Nova called the baby an enemy and Tess saw it as a pickle.
I lifted my chin. “If it’s a girl, I’ll name her Reesette. A boy will be Reese.”
She squinted at me. “The daddy’s name is Reese?”
“Reese Sinclair.” She wouldn’t know him from Adam.
“And he approved of that stupid name for a girl?”
“He doesn’t know. I just thought of it.”
“Well, think again. ‘Cause Reese is good for a girl or boy. It’s a unisex name, although I prefer Aislynn for a girl.”
“I like that name, too.”
She snatched her pen again and nodded to the door. “Go home, child. Rest. Unplug for the rest of the evening. Let me make a few phone calls and get you in to a doctor.”
“You don’t—”
She gave me an under eyed look. “I do. Now, get.”
My head was hurting and I feared another bout of throwing up hitting me. Roman’s house was ten minutes away from the daycare whereas the hotel was almost twice that.