Page 51 of Sugarloaf Ridge Lies

I tilt my head as the pink of her cheeks deepens. “How come?”

A wide smile splits her face. “I’m pregnant.”

My heart swells at the news. “Oh, Nat.” I sit beside her and wrap her up in a hug. “That’s amazing. Congratulations.”

“Thanks.” She leans back into the cushions and runs her hand over a small bump. You’d barely know she was expecting. “We’re pretty damn excited. I’ve hit fourteen weeks and thank the lord the morning sickness has stopped.”

“I’m glad.”

The stomach bug might have been a cover for sickness until she was ready to tell people the news, and then there’s avoiding alcohol at the bonfire and the night at the pub when Jerry and I danced beneath the stars.

I swallow hard and ease back to the other side of the couch. “Sorry, I probably should keep my distance. I don’t want to pass on a bug to you.”

“You never know, there could be something in the town water.” She giggles and gives me an overexaggerated wink. “Maybe you’re knocked up too.”

“Ha, ha.” She might be joking but it sends my mind reeling. I clear my throat and shake off the thought. “So, when does that make you due?”

“The end of October. I’ll have to finish at the end of third term.”

“Does Gareth know?”

“Yeah, I told him today. He was great. He was expecting it. Carter and I have been trying for a while.”

We sip at our teas while Nat fills me in on how long the process has been for them. There’s no denying how thrilled she is, but her nerves show through especially when she explains her family history of infertility and miscarriage.

After Nat leaves, I snuggle into the couch and watch the news, all the while my brain keeps circling back to Nat’s comment about the town water.

Is that my issue? Could I be knocked up?

My last period a couple of weeks ago was super light. I put it down to stress, the change in location, and a new job.

No. Surely not.

It’s just a bug. I’m sure of it.

I pull the blankets up under my chin. Next thing I know, I wake to a dark room. I check my watch, shocked to find out it’s after seven.Clearly, there’s something up with me; I never sleep like this.

I wipe the drool from my mouth, throw my hair into a bun, and drive to the supermarket. I search every aisle for a pregnancy test, coming up empty.This is ridiculous.

When I drive to the chemist it’s already closed.

***

The next morning islike Groundhog Day.

Hello, toilet bowl.

It does nothing to assuage fears of pregnancy. Before I’m due at work, I march into the Chemist in Sugarloaf Ridge on a mission. Get in and out. Go do the test.

Strolling down the far isle, a woman with long brown hair scans the shelves. I shut her out, reminding myself what I’m here for, walk forward and reach for the shelf.

The woman extends her arm at the same time. A pregnancy test topples to the floor.

“Sorry,” I mutter.

The woman picks up the test and puts it back in place. “Liv,” she turns to me. “Hey.”

I swallow hard.

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