Page 80 of Catnip, Claws, and Chaos

Sarah: Of course. The usual place?

Kate: I'll bring alcohol. You can sniff it longingly while we brainstorm baby names.

Despite everything, I laugh. Trust Kate to find the darkest humor in any situation.

Emily: No baby names. I haven't decided anything yet.

The next day,I manage to sneak out of Logan's apartment. I leave him a note about meeting a friend for breakfast. Not technically a lie, just not the whole truth.

I make it to our usual lunch spot early, ordering herbal tea and picking at a plain bagel while I wait for Kate and Sarah. The diner's walls are the color of aged egg, and the vinyl booths are cracked in places that always manage to snag my tights. But the coffee is decent, and the pancakes are huge.

Kate and Sarah arrive together, heads bent in intense conversation that suspiciously stops when they spot me.

“Wow, you look better,” Kate announces as she slides into the booth across from me. “Feeling better? Physically, I mean?”

I shrug. “Peachy.”

“You need prenatal vitamins,” Sarah says, sliding a bottle across the table. “I picked these up for you. They're supposed to help with the nausea too.”

The fact that Sarah went out and bought me vitamins breaks something inside me and makes tears well up and spill over before I can stop them.

“Shit, no, don't cry,” Kate says, looking genuinely alarmed. “If you cry, Sarah's going to cry, and then I'll have to stab myself with a fork just to restore balance to the universe.”

I laugh through my tears, wiping them away with the back of my hand. “I'm fine. Just... hormones, I guess.” I take the vitamins and tuck them into my purse. “Thanks, Sarah.”

“Of course.” She squeezes my hand again. “Whatever you decide, we're here for you. Right, Kate?”

The waitress sets down our plates just as Kate nods enthusiastically. “Absolutely,” Kate agrees, stabbing a french fry with disturbing enthusiasm. “Need someone to drive you to appointments? I'm there. Need someone to hold your hair while you puke up your guts for the next few months? Sarah's there. Need someone to help you hide a body if Logan reacts badly? I know a guy.”

Sarah rolls her eyes. “You do not know a guy.”

Kate shrugs. “I could find one. The point is, we've got your back, Em. So,” she says, leaning forward, “have you made a decision yet?”

I stare into my tea and shake my head. “I'm scared.”

“Of what?”

“Everything,” I admit. “Of doing this alone. Of telling Logan. Of not telling Logan. Of being a terrible mother. Of screwing up this kid's life before it even starts.”

“Everyone feels that way,” Sarah says. “Even people who plan their pregnancies down to the day.”

“Not helping,” I mutter.

“Look,” Kate interjects, “you're scared because this is scary shit. But you know what else is scary? Regret. Making a decision you can't take back because you were too afraid to follow your heart.”

“When did you get so wise?” I narrow my eyes suspiciously.

“I read it on a fortune cookie,” she admits. “But it still applies. Next question: are you telling Daddy Dearest?”

The nickname makes me cringe. “I don't know. He's made it pretty clear he doesn't want kids. Ever. But keeping this from him feels wrong.”

“He has a right to know,” Sarah says carefully. “But that doesn't mean you have to tell him right away. You could wait until you've had time to process this yourself.”

“Or,” Kate adds, “you could test the waters. Find out how he really feels about kids without dropping the bomb.”

I consider this. “How exactly would I do that?”

Kate shrugs. “I don't know. Rent a baby?”

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