Page 26 of Bringing Home the Bacon
I fight the tears that want to form. “What guy?”
“Usually, when someone thinks they might be pregnant, a guy was involved at some point?”
I shrug. “No one special.”
Nothing could be further from the truth. He was special. He is special. And I know it was just one night, but I miss him. All I wanted was one night to be wild with no strings attached. So why did the guy I chose have to be so kind and adorable and unforgettable?
His words come back to haunt me like they have every day for the last four months.
I hate lies. Please don’t lie to me.
What do you say to that after you’d already lied to a man all day? For fun? I did what he asked. I promised not to lie to him from that point on. But the damage had already been done.
“Well,” Diane says. “Should we go inside?”
“You can. I’m…” Another peal of laughter rings from inside the house. “I think I’m going to stay out here for a bit. Don’t worry. I’ll be in soon.”
Diane reaches her hand out. “Want me to toss that bag for you?”
“What a pal,” I joke as I hand over the paper bag full of my regurgitated dinner. “Thanks, Diane. Sorry if I just started a rumor that you’re pregnant. Though Ginny did seem sincere that her gossip rag days are behind her.”
“I guess we’ll see.” She steps out of the car, but before she closes the door, she dips her head back inside. “Colleen?”
“Yeah?” I swipe a tear from my cheek that I hadn’t even realized had fallen.
“Whatever news you get and whatever you decide, you have a whole support system ready to lift you up. You’re strong. Your family loves you. I promise you’re going to be fine.”
“Thanks.” My voice is a near whisper.
The moment Diane disappears into the house, I burst into tears.
Chapter 9
Bacon
I’m backstage getting my makeup touched up during a commercial break. Yep, I wear makeup now. When I’m on TV, at least.
“You’re awfully quiet,” Kara, our makeup artist, says. “Nervous about the big finale moment? For what it’s worth, I’m betting on you, buddy. I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”
The funny thing is, for the first time ever, I’m not worried about this show. In fact, I’m not even thinking about the show. In less than thirty minutes, I could be the recipient of an enormous amount of money to fund my own restaurant anywhere in the continental United States, but the only thing on my mind is getting this finale over with so I can catch a bus to Fork Lick and find my girl.
I can’t get into all that right now, though, so I just shrug and say, “Eh.”
“Eh?” Kara laughs. “We just got word that over nine million viewers are tuning in live tonight, and all you have to say is ‘eh’?”
I shrug again.
“Okay, you’ve got to stop shrugging while I do your makeup.”
I relax my shoulders. “Sorry. You’re right. This is all really exciting, and normally, I would be nervous, but my mind is on other things, I guess.”
“Teach me your ways, sir. I’d be shaking in my boots!” She applies a light mist to my face as the finishing touch, then whips off the drape that was protecting my white chef coat. “Alright, big guy. You are good to go.”
“Thanks, Kara.” I hop out of the makeup chair and head back to my cooking station, where my final creation simmers on the stove.
Our stage manager April approaches with a big smile. “I was about to tell you places in five, but here you are, ready to go.”
“Here I am.” I smile back at her.
