Page 111 of Wine & Whiskey
“It’s been almost a month, and you haven’t heard from him. Maybe it’s time to move on.”
The patio door slides open, and Nathan sticks his head out. “Carrie, the alarm on your phone keeps beeping. Do you want me to turn it off?”
Carrie squeezes her hand. “No, we’re coming.”
Inside her bedroom, Shae sinks down onto her favorite comforter and squeezes the pillow. “I can’t look. Will you please do it?”
She takes a deep breath as Carrie nods and walks into the bathroom, seeking the result that determines the course of her future. Either answer ensures her heartache, although at this moment, she doesn’t know which one is worse. Her heart flip-flops at Carrie’s smile through tears in the doorway.
“I’m going to be an aunt.”
Emotions spin in her stomach like a windmill as Carrie wraps her arms around her. Joy. Terror. Love. Doubt. Guilt. Two times. Two times they forgot, too caught up in their passion to think about anything beyond that moment, both fearful their relationship was ending. Instead of breaking up, they created a permanent connection. Forever linked to the man who doesn’t want her or the baby he doesn’t even know he’s going to have. Yet, she’s never wanted anything more.
“What are you going to do?”
Carrie’s question pulls her out of her thoughts. “Make a doctor’s appointment.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Try and figure out a way to tell him so he doesn’t go over the edge.”
Her eyes fill with tears as Carrie squeezes her tighter. “He’ll be happy. I know it.”
No, he’ll hate himself even more than he already does. Worrying about her safety drove them apart. Now, she provides him with yet another layer of guilt to add to the burden he already carries.
“Hurry up, you guys,” Nathan calls from the kitchen. “We’re leaving in an hour.”
Shae steps back from Carrie and forces herself to smile. “You’ve got to get ready. You can’t be late for your own party.”
“You don’t have to pretend with me. I know you’re upset.”
“I’m okay. I just need to let it sink in a little. Tonight’s a special night. Let’s focus on that, and we’ll talk more when we get home.”
Throwing her shoulders back, Carrie conveys a confidence she wishes she could emulate. “Everything’s going to be fine. We’re in this together.”
She refuses to let her drama interfere with her best friend’s happiness. “Always.”
At the restaurant, their group fills a long table. Multiple generations of family and friends brought together by the optimism of a new beginning. Carrie and Nathan take their places at the center of the festivities while Evan sits next to the only empty seat. He stands as she walks closer, his wrinkled forehead contrasting with his smile. At least she’s not the only one who feels awkward.
He tips his head toward hers as he pulls out the chair for her. “It’s good to see you.”
Yes, she can do this. Push all thoughts of Nick and their impending conversation out of her head. Carrie deserves her full attention and best behavior. “Thanks. You too.”
Relief fills his brown eyes as his smile brightens. “Congratulations on the movie. Carrie said it’s been number one four weekends in a row.”
“Thank you. We had a lot of fun, and I think it shows.” Heat races up her cheeks from him scanning her face, as if searching for answers to questions he’s not asking. She struggles to keep the conversation casual. This isn’t the time or place to dwell on old or new wounds. “How have you been?”
“Good. My practice is full now, and I finished our—” He shakes his head before running his hand across his black hair, now close cropped on the sides and slightly spiked on the top. Redness creeps from his cheeks to his faint widow’s peak. “Sorry, old habits die hard and all that. I mean, the remodeling is all done.”
Bittersweet memories float through her mind at the mention of the house. Lying in his arms after they made love for the first time, he’d shared with her all his plans. Updating the kitchen, adding a game room to the basement, installing an in-ground pool—he wanted to create an ideal family home. She couldn’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm for doing most of the work himself. What does a pediatrician know about construction? But he insisted it would make it truly theirs. Finding her lips, he whispered against them, “Marrying you will make everything perfect.”
Their only argument had been over his refusal to add a small recording studio. Old-fashioned in his manners and beliefs, he dissuaded her from “being distracted with her music while at home.” In his mind, her career was a temporary dalliance until she assumed the real job of wife and mother. “You really don’t even need to work at all, do you? You know I’ll always take care of you” had been his response when she rolled away, disappointed he didn’t understand her need to forge her own identity.
“That’s wonderful. I’m sure it turned out beautifully. You always were good with the details, and—”
“Excuse me, miss.” A voice behind her interrupts their discussion. “Would you prefer white or red wine?”
“Red, please.” The automatic reply slips out before the revised response required for her new circumstances makes it from her mind to her lips. Her decisions impact two people now. “Wait, I’m sorry. Could I please have sparkling water with an orange slice instead?”
