Page 38 of The Jackpot Screwer
“Everything okay here?” It was Delphine’s voice, but I couldn’t see her. I couldn’t keep my eyes open.
“He’s taken Extra Strength Tylenol, but I don’t know how many,” Nancy said, her voice sounding far away.
“Carter, honey, can you tell us how many pills you took?” Delphine asked, shaking my shoulder.
“He doesn’t know,” Nancy replied. “You think I should call Doc Browning?”
“No, no, no, no,” I said. “I know how many I took—six. Oh,” I added holding up a hand. “I took three Advil PM as well.”
“Oh my goodness,” Delphine exclaimed. “Since when?”
“Since I wen’ see my Lollipop las’ night.” I smiled thinking of her. “Imma gonna dream about her now.”
“Carter, I think we should get you home,” Nancy replied. “I’ll take him. My class is on a field trip with Mrs. Baker and the Principal, so I have the morning off.”
“You sure, Nancy?” Delphine asked.
“Carter, can you stand?”
I nodded and pushed up out of my seat. “Hey, I’m fine.” My eyes opened and I straightened up, feeling a little burst of energy. “No nee’ to come with.”
Nancy shook her head. “No, I think I’ll make sure you get home okay. Delphine, is his truck okay parked outside for now?”
“Sure. You want me to ask Garth to help you?”
“I’m fine,” I replied, waving them away. “It’s a five-minute drive home.”
“No way, mister.” Nancy threw her purse over her shoulder and took my arm. “I’ll drive you.”
“I nee’ to pay,” I protested, feeling sleepy again.
“Don’t you worry, honey,” Delphine replied, opening up the café door. “It’s a few pancakes is all. You get home and get some rest and make sure you get that tooth looked at.”
I saluted her and smiled. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Come on,” Nancy said. “Let’s get you to bed.”
Fifteen minutes later, after some pulling and pushing, Nancy finally had me leaning against the wall while she opened up my apartment. I’d got even sleepier and as I was on the third floor, I think she was pretty damn grateful the elevator wasn’t having an off day. We lived in the same block, with Nancy just across the hallway, so when she got the door open, she knew exactly where the bedroom was.
“Okay,” she huffed. “Here you go.”
She practically threw me onto my bed, but as she did, I forgot to let go and pulled her down with me. As soon as my body hit the comfy mattress, it knew it had to go into sleep mode. Nancy tried to move away but she was all warm and comfy and so I just held on, rested my head against her chest and fell fast asleep.
I took a deep breath and pushed open the stair door which led to Carter’s third floor apartment. I’d made my mind up; I was going to tell him how much I loved him and how much I wanted us to be a family.
Shaw had been right, Carter, for all he could be a fool at times, wouldn’t let me down. I knew that but the shock of finding out I was pregnant had kind of spooked me. It’d had me second guessing everything, most of all, Carter.
Approaching the door of his apartment I saw that it was slightly ajar and wondered why. I knew Carter was home because I’d spoken to Lance. He’d told me that after staying up all night with the injured horse, Carter was taking the day to catch up on some sleep.
“Carter, you there,” I called, rapping a couple of times on the door.
I pushed inside, straight into the large, airy living space with its black leather sofa and huge Lazyboy recliner. I damn well hated that chair; it was big and ugly and reminded me of trying to get Carter to put down his damn PlayStation and show me some attention. Over the months we’d been together, I’d tried to gussy up the apartment a little with lamps, throw pillows, rugs and towels which actually matched the bathroom, but the stupid chair was a real blot on my otherwise homely landscape.
Looking around the room, I was surprised to see it was still fairly tidy. I’d expected to be faced with a Carter size level of mess and destruction, but maybe my nagging had finally sunk in.
Moving through the living area to the kitchen, which was separated by a slatted, wood partition, I couldn’t help but smile. The sink was piled with dishes, even though there was a dishwasher and on top of the stove was a dirty pan with what looked like dried up, day old spaghetti sauce—okay, so maybe he wasn’t totally converted to be clean and tidy.
“Carter, babe, are you here?” I called, walking down the hallway off the kitchen.
