Page 62 of 7+Us Makes Nine

“I was in a random drug store when I found out,” Emma said. “That was a nice little whirlwind.”

That sparked an entirely different conversation with another flood of pregnancy stories I couldn't relate to. So, I slipped into my own little world. I pulled out my checkbook and wrote a check for two thousand dollars, then slid it into Carter’s hand when he came by. It wasn’t much. Not when the people around me considered that amount of money pocket change in the seats of their luxury cars. But I wanted to contribute somehow to a charity that meant a lot to a friend of mine and her husband.

But then, my mind started sinking into other thoughts.

All this talk about pregnancy had me calculating my last period. I checked my purse to make sure I had a tampon on me just in case it happened at the party. I knew I was close. I hadn’t had one this month yet. That much I was sure of.

Wait, had I had one last month?

My eyes danced around the backyard as I pulled out my phone. I charted my period like a crazy person. I always stayed on top of my health. I was always conscious of what I put in my body and things like that. I’d always been that way. I couldn’t control a lot of what was around me, but I could control what I ate and the type of products I used. I flipped through my calendar and had to slide back two entire months before I saw the last charting of my period.

Two months?

It had been two months since my last period?

I stuffed my phone back into my purse and drew in a deep breath. Stress. It had to be stress. This thing with Anya and my sister was getting to all of us. I closed my eyes and went to bring the glass of wine to my lips, but I stopped myself.

If I was, then I didn’t need to be drinking it.

“Catherine? You okay?” Emma asked.

“I actually need a bathroom,” I said.

“Uh oh. Yep. Go on inside. Go upstairs and use my bathroom. Help yourself to anything you need.”

“That is one great thing about pregnancy,” Emma said. “No fucking periods.”

“Thanks. I’m so sorry. I’ll be right back,” I said.

I took my glass of wine inside so nothing would look suspicious. I placed it down on the kitchen counter, then raced up to Carter and Natasha’s room. I slammed my way into their bathroom and closed the door, then locked it immediately behind me. I went and sat on the toilet and focused. I paid attention to my back. My chest. My stomach. My hips. Anything I knew that would ache with the oncoming storm of my period. I sat there for a little while, willing my period to start.

But even though I searched for symptoms, none of them popped up.

I wiped myself just to be sure and sighed when I didn’t see anything. Fuck. This couldn’t be happening. I wasn’t really pregnant, right? I wanted children, sure. But not now.

And certainly not with the man I’d been sleeping with.

Well, that wasn’t actually true. I’d be honored to have Jace’s kids. But not with what we were doing. Being his nanny and having the kind of baggage we did with our families? At least Natasha and Carter didn’t have the baggage of their families. But we did. Both of us did. Anya and my parents and Hannah. They’d all work to tear us apart.

I stood up from the toilet and pulled my dress down, situating myself as I looked in the mirror.

I washed my hands at the sink before I got curious. Natasha did say to help myself to anything she had. So I opened the bathroom counters below her sink and began rifling around. Pads. Tampons. Curling irons of all shapes and sizes. Unused makeup and extra bottles of shampoo and conditioner.

I almost gave up my search until I saw them.

Stuffed in the very back.

“Gotcha,” I said.

I reached back and plucked a pregnancy test from the box in the back. I had no idea if she’d have any in her bathroom, but I was glad she did. I tucked the test away in my purse and told myself I’d take it if my period didn’t start within the next week. If I went another week without one, then that would be almost ten weeks without a period.

Which wasn’t normal for me.

Even if stress was involved.

Twenty-One

Jace

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