Page 32 of Slap Shot Surprise
“Was that the girl on the balcony?” Paul asked.
“Yes.” I picked up my wine glass and took a drink.
“Ooooh, Joey took a girl out on the balcony,” my sister teased. “How romantic.”
“Who was it?” my mother asked. “Anyone I know?”
“Did you kiss her?” asked Claudia.
“Smoochy, smoochy,” sang Gabrielle, followed by kissing noises.
Benny gagged and choked dramatically.
“No, Mom, no one you know.” I gave Paul the stink eye, warning him he’d better not mention that I left with her last night. “She was just a girl I met, her name was Mabel, and that’s enough about that.”
“Mabel?” My mother smiled. “That’s a sweet name.”
It suits her, I thought. But I kept my mouth shut. My family was relentless about getting up in one another’s personal business, and while I usually gave as much shit as I got, I didn’t want Mabel talked about. Gianni knew her brother, and rumors spread quickly.
Despite the short amount of time we’d spent together, I felt protective of her.
EIGHT
mabel
ONE MONTH LATER
I staredin disbelief at two little pink lines.
No, I thought. It couldn’t be right.
I’d only taken the test on a whim. To rule outthisexplanation for the extreme fatigue and dizzy spells I’d been experiencing over the last week or so. Because it couldn’t be this.
I couldn’t be pregnant.
I’d assumed it was stress. After the conference in Chicago, I’d thrown myself into planning the Bootleggers Ball fundraiser. The board of directors had loved the idea and suggested a gala in December, which didn’t give me a ton of time to pull everything together—especially with classes starting soon—but I assured them I could manage it.
I spent the first two weeks of August doing research and working with a small committee of board members to plan an event splashy enough to draw big donors and entice them to support us. I contacted vendors, created a list of dream guests to reach out to personally, and begged agraphic artist I knew for help designing promotional materials for social media and posters.
I also prepped lesson plans and lectures for the two introductory anthropology courses I would teach this semester. And one day last week, I jumped out of bed at five a.m. after getting a call from Dash that Ari was in labor and could I please come stay with Wren while he took his wife to the hospital? I’d spent eighteen hours straight with the energetic little toddler, and she’d worn me right out.
I’d been so busy that I hadn’t noticed a missed period. My cycle had never been perfectly regular, and I’d had some spotting at the end of July I’d assumed was just a light period because it had arrived kind of early.
And I hadn’t had unprotected sex! Joe had worn a condom both times, hadn’t he? I thought back on that night for the millionth time and felt certain that he had.
I hadn’t forgotten a single detail.
The heaviness of that chest on mine, the roll of his hips above my body, the hitch of his breath as he moved inside me.
And the things he’d said. Oh God, those things he’d said to me.
I can’t wait to get my mouth on you.
I’m gonna make you come so hard.
I could swallow you whole.
I can’t get enough.
