Page 117 of Lucas & Melissa Falling in Love
Chapter 36
When we shut the door behind the doctor, Margo turns to me and looks like I feel, shocked and bewildered. Plus, I’m sure I look whiter than bleached hair.
“Oh my God, Lissy! This is so freaking fantastic!” Pulling me into a bear hug she squeezes for all she’s worth and it’s exactly what I need. Of course, she knows that. I bury my face on her shoulder and try not to cry, but if I do, I’ll blame it on hormones.
“We’re pregnant together. I just found out!” She squeals again and I try to feel a pinprick of happiness in all my hellish confusion.
She lets me go and says, “It’s happening just like we dreamed about when we were little girls, remember?” Her face glows and the joy beams off of her so fiercely that I feel it, that tiny twiggle of happy in a far corner of my brain, or more likely my heart.
Tears start to leak. It’s definitely the hormones causing them. Not the disaster that I’m making of my life.
“Just when I’m in line for a promotion at the bank. Just when I was ready to move in with Lucas,” I say. She steers me to the couch.
“I know it’s all sudden and unplanned, honey, but you don’t need to worry about any of that. Your job is fine. And moving in with Lucas is perfect.”
“How do you figure? Forget about the bank.” It occurs to me that these are words I never thought I’d say. “How is it perfect that I’m moving in with Lucas on Saturday and the first thing I’m going to say to him is that I’m pregnant? How is that wonderful?” I take a deep breath and she pats my arm.
“We were looking forward to the two of us, getting to know each other better, testing the waters to see if—” I burst into tears. “It’s the hormones,” I squeak the words.
“I know exactly how you feel,” she says.
“I have to call my mother. And my father,” I say. It feels imperative that I talk to my parents. I want to throw myself at their mercy for forgiveness. Maybe it’s the duh moment and I’m getting the fact that I’m going to be the parent soon, but I have this moment of empathy.
“Good idea,” Margo says, relief in her voice. I’d told her an abbreviated version of all the parental trauma. Now I pick up my phone to make the call, and for the first time today, the queasiness in me subsides.
* * *
It’sThursday and I have tomorrow, exactly one more day, after a trip to the doctor and the drug store and finally returning to work at the bank, to wrap my head around this baby thing before I move in with Lucas. And tell him he’s going to be a father.
I check my watch as if it’s counting down to the moment of no turning back, to the precipice of an irrevocably changed life. I suppose I’ve already crossed the bright pink line of change, so what’s another minor adjustment? Why not add a daddy into the mix with the baby? Nerves jumping, heart floating around in my throat, I step onto the elevator to leave work for the day. It’s only five thirty, but weariness overwhelms me. The doctor warned me of this. Margo has been a living demonstration of first trimester exhaustion all week.
I wanted to wait until I was three months along, when the miscarriage danger is over, before telling Lucas, but Margo shamed my cowardly ass into telling him right away. I know she’s right. Practically speaking, it would be a disaster if I waited.
So, pulling my phone from my bag as I get into the back of a cab, I make the call to invite him to come over tomorrow night while Margo and George are away on a romantic getaway to Vermont. I decide I’ll cook for him. It’s the way to a man’s heart, right?
It’s not that I’m worried about Lucas not being happy about the baby. I know for certain that he’ll be ecstatic.
It’s that I know he’ll question my motives about moving in with him. He has a healthy streak of pride and if he thinks I’m moving in with him because of the baby and not because I want to, he’ll have a problem.Wewill have a problem. All three of us.
We’re having a baby together and we’ve sharedI love yous.
This is a disaster.
I wonder for the hundredth time if I should go back on my agreement to live with him, but Margo played my better angel and told me I’m being a coward again. She told me I’m strong enough to stand up on my own and live with him at the same time. She claimed to be the perfect example: she works in her husband’s Regal Empire heading up their special events and promotions department. She has her dream job because George created it for her, so I don’t know if it counts. But she’s undeniably good at her job. And, most importantly, she has her dream man.
“Lucas, come over tomorrow night for dinner. Margo and George will be gone for the weekend and I want to cook for you.”
“You do?” He says this with a hint of suspicion in his tone, but he recovers his senses when I laugh. “This is one of those offers a man can’t say no to. I’m already anticipating it with excitement—and maybe a little trepidation.” I laugh at his joke, but I think he also means it.
“Until then. Tonight is an early night for me.”
“Still getting over that flu?” he says, concern lowering his voice. It was a fib I had to tell him until I could face him again. Now it causes a flutter in my gut, knowing the truth and knowing I’ll be serving him so much more than dinner tomorrow night.
“Yeah,” I say and leave it at that. “Come over as soon as you can tomorrow night.”
“I’ll be there by six, after my appointments. Unless I can manage to cancel something between now and then.”
“Don’t do that. Six is fine.” I pause and, even though I’ve said it before, telling him is still new and feels momentous every time. I wonder if it’ll always be this way. Maybe it should. “I love you,” I whisper. I hear the catch in his breath because he feels the same.
