Page 63 of Here You Are

My mouth drops open, and I start sputtering. “No. I told you that I can’t. Remember?”

“Of course I remember,” he says, pulling me into his side, barf breath and all. “I’ve just seen quite a few rounds of morning sickness, and, well, this feels very familiar. It’s probably not, but maybe you should take a test to rule that out.”

Ugh. I’ve taken so many negative pregnancy tests in my life. I know that’s not what this is. But I don’t have any energy for arguments left in my body. So, I just say, “Ben, that’s not what it is, but if it will make you feel better, I will take one.”

“Don’t worry about how I feel, Cassie. It just crossed my mind when one whiff of food had you running for the bathroom. You don’t have to do anything; I was just throwing it out there. If you want to, I’ll run and grab a test and pray to God I don’t see WJ at the corner store.”

I mutter “Okay,” because I feel too crappy to continue talking about this. “I’ll stay with the girls. If you see her vehicle in the parking lot, you better high-tail it out of there.”

When we get back out to the kitchen, the girls are all over me right away, looks of concern in their eyes. My heart melts, and I get to work reassuring them that I haven’t been feeling well and their beautiful meal had nothing to do with it.

“You throwed up? Taylen asks, sad little eyes staring up at me.

“A little, but I’m okay now. Should we clean up? Your dad is going to go get me some medicine, so I’m going to hang out with you guys while he does that.”

Brooklyn chimes in and says, “I’ll clean up. Linden will help me. You and Tay can go rest on the couch until Dad gets back.”

I smile at her, grateful I don’t have to stay in the kitchen whiffing food fumes. Linden pouts, since she was volunteered to clean up supper. Taylen grabs my hand and leads me to the living room. I sit down on the couch, and she grabs her blankie and comes to sit by me, sharing her blanket to cover up my legs.

“You okay, Cathie?” Taylen hasn’t quite figured out her “S’s” yet, so to her, I am Cathie.

“Yes, much better now. You girls are good at taking care of me.”

By the time Ben gets back, my stomach has settled, and the four of us are snuggled on the couch watching a movie. As long as I don’t move, I don’t feel like throwing up. Ben walks in and sees us on the couch. I look back at him, and he makes a stabbing motion to his heart and starts fake crying. Still acting totally chill about me spending time with his girls, I see.

He plops down on the couch in the middle of everyone, landing on everyone’s arms and legs, causing a lot of chaos and drama. “You girls can’t replace me with Cassie for snuggle movie time. SNUGGLE MOVIE TIME IS MINE!“ he hollers and starts tickling children.

He looks at me and makes eyes for me to follow him. I get up and follow him out of the living room and over to the downstairs bathroom. He gestures inside, and there is a pregnancy test sitting on the counter.

“You want me to take it now? With the girls right there?”

“Yes. I'm nervous,” he replied, kind of bouncing up and down, hands jiggling in his pockets.

“You don’t have to be nervous. That’s not what this is.”

He shrugs. “I’m still nervous. Maybe I’m just worried about why you haven’t been feeling well. One time, someone wasn’t feeling well, and it was really bad. Can you do it for my peace of mind? And then if it’s not, you really should go to the doctor.”

I nod and say, “Yes. I’ll do it for your peace of mind.”

In the bathroom, I pop the test out of the package and get ready to take the 100th negative test of my lifetime. After I pee, I sit on the toilet and rest my upper body on my legs, taking some deep breaths. Taking a test really brings up a lot of sad feelings for me. I started out so hopeful when I took the first pregnancy test of my life, and toward the end, taking them became brutally painful.

I finally stand up and walk over to the sink to wash my hands when, out of the corner of my eye, something catches my attention. I glance at the pregnancy test, and there are two, glaringly bright, pink lines. My heart is racing, I’m barely breathing, and I reach to grab the box out of the garbage. This must be a weird test. It’s barely even been a minute. I know two pink lines traditionally means pregnant, but this one must be different. I grab the box and flip over to the instructions. One line negative. Two lines. Positive.

“Oh. My. God.”

Not one second after I mutter those words under my breath, the bathroom door swings open and Ben barges in. He looks at me and then looks at the test. And then back at me, and then back at the test.

“Holy shit,” he whispers.

We are both frozen, staring at the test, barely breathing. Ben turns around and shuts the bathroom door. He walks over to me and pulls me against him.

“Come here. Whatever you're thinking, I just want you to know it’s going to be all right.”

His compassion and reassurance in this moment have me bursting into tears. I am crying so hard into his arms that I can barely breathe. He is rubbing my back and telling me “shhh” and “you’re all right,” like I’m a giant baby, when in fact I may be growing a giant baby. Or a very small one. Maybe? How do we even know this wasn’t a bad test?

“Oh My God, Ben. I'm so, so sorry. I'm so unbelievably sorry. This is all my fault.”

He pulls back and holds me by the arms, trying to look me in the eye, but I’m having trouble facing him. “Cassie, look at me. Why are you sorry? You have nothing to be sorry for. We both had sex. I was there; it was awesome. This was a joint decision. You have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing.”