Confessions of the World's Oldest Shotgun Bride (12 page)

“Ben and I are going away for the weekend. Can we do it right after work on Friday?

“Isn’t that too early, since it’s before my period’s due?”

“No. There are tests now that work six days before you miss your first period.”

Kathryn’s eyes narrowed to slits as she looked at her friend. “How do you know that?”

Amanda blushed. “About a month ago, Ben and I had a little incident with a broken condom, and I thought maybe...” She sighed.

“And you didn’t say anything to me?”

“I was afraid you’d give me abuse for being careless. And then when it turned out I wasn’t, I was too depressed to feel like sharing.”

Kathryn put her hand over Amanda’s. “Don’t look so sad. You and Ben will have your baby, when the time is right. And for a traditional guy like Ben, that means after you’re married.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. Ben’s like me. He’s going to want to plan and prepare for parenthood, not bumble into it.”

“You’re probably right, but I’m still disappointed.”

“I’ll bet that’s what this premonition thing is all about. You want a baby, so you’re projecting onto me.”

“Could be,” Amanda said, looking anything but convinced.

“Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be fine.”

“You got that right, girlfriend. What’s meant to be will be.”

* * *

Kathryn’s alarm clock pierced the stillness of her bedroom, sounding shriller and louder than she remembered. She reached out to turn it off and groaned. How could it be morning already? Her body felt like a lead weight that wouldn’t be budged. Which was not only annoying, but also strange, since she’d always been such a high-energy person. If this tiredness kept up much longer, she’d have to see a doctor.

An OB/GYN?

Oh, crap! Amanda’s psychic bullshit had invaded her brain.

She dressed and applied her makeup, doing her best to hide the bags under her eyes. Still moving like sludge, she arrived at her office a few minutes after the official start of business.

“Morning, Ms. St. John. I already got you your coffee.” Janelle delivered a venti-sized Starbuck’s cup with a puzzled look. Usually she beat Janelle to the office by a good half-hour. Though Janelle would never ask for an explanation, she’d certainly wonder. Kathryn needed to get a grip.

“Thanks, Jan. I’ll be spending the morning polishing the PowerPoint slides for this afternoon’s preliminary run-through of our pitch for the new Navy contract. Guard my door with your life. Don’t let anyone in.”

“Even Whitley?”

Kathryn scowled. “Especially Whitley. And could you bring me some more coffee around ten? I want to work straight through on this presentation.”

“Sure thing, Ms. St. John. With an extra shot of expresso?”

Caffeine was the fuel that fired Kathryn’s most productive binges. She was about to say, make it two shots, when she remembered she’d promised Amanda she’d cut back on caffeine. While the phrase “cut back” was open to interpretation, surely it didn’t include at least two ventis and two extra shots of expresso before mid-morning. Damn, why had she made that ridiculous, totally unnecessary promise?

She knew why—because Amanda had used emotional blackmail. The promise had been made under duress. She should blow it off. Amanda would never know.

Trouble was, she’d know. And she kept her word to her friends. She grimaced. “No, skip the shot. In fact, make it decaf.” If she held back this morning, she could have another venti during the meeting this afternoon without feeling guilty.

“Decaf?” Janelle made the word sound as if it were in a foreign language. Which to Kathryn, it might as well have been, up to now.

“I’m trying to take a breather from drinking so much coffee. I think the caffeine’s digging a hole in my stomach.”

Her assistant’s look of horror was downright comical. Kathryn couldn’t blame her. The idea of Wonder Woman trying to get through a major project without coffee was appalling. It was possible neither of them would survive.

Kathryn spent the next several hours parked in front of her computer screen, and by the time the meeting rolled around, her confidence was high. She knew B&W’s proposal was solid, as were her slides. The morning’s work had gone well, despite the fact that her second cup of coffee had tasted like dishwater. Next time she’d think twice about humoring Amanda.

Everyone at B&W knew that not only the firm, but St. John and Whitley personally had a lot riding on her presentation to the Navy, so the conference room was packed. Aside from the project team, both Brubaker and Whitley were there. Brubaker to reassure himself that Kathryn had everything under control, and Whitley to snipe at her. Well, let him. The more he nitpicked her outstanding work, the more he’d look like the jealous moron he was.

She breezed through her slides, easily answering questions from her team, addressing Brubaker’s concerns, and deflecting Whitley’s low blows. She was three slides from the end when her stomach did a somersault and the contents threatened to rise up her throat.

She fought back the nausea and moved on to the next slide.

Her stomach heaved again, this time more insistently.

Oh, God! If she didn’t make it to the ladies room, and soon, she was going to throw up. Right here. In front of all these people.

She flipped to the last slide. “Seeing no questions, I’m afraid I need to leave to take care of a pressing matter.” Ignoring her colleagues’ curious stares, she strode from the room, walking briskly, but with a calm she didn’t feel.

Once she was safely out the door and out of sight, she broke into an all-out run, banged open the door to the ladies’ room, and dashed into a stall. The second the stall door was latched shut, she knelt on the floor and heaved into the toilet until her stomach was empty.

Kathryn felt like slamming her fist against the metal wall. This embarrassing incident had to be Amanda’s fault. Surely it was the power of suggestion, and nothing else, that had made her toss her cookies. Logic told her so. After all, even if she were pregnant—which wasn’t possible—it was too early for morning sickness.

Wasn’t it?

She wanted to strangle Amanda. Right now she should be in the conference room, accepting congratulations on her brilliant presentation. Instead, she was in this stall worshiping the porcelain god.

After washing her face, she returned to her outer office, nearly running into Whitley on his way out. She shot Janelle an ominous look. “What was he doing here?”

“He wanted to know what happened to you at the end of the meeting.”

Kathryn’s stomach did another flip-flop. “What did you tell him?”

“Nothing. Not one little thing.” The jut of Janelle’s chin matched Kathryn’s own. As always, they were a team.

“Good. The miserable SOB is looking for dirt on me.”

“Let him look. He won’t find anything. You have nothing to hide.”

Her assistant’s loyalty was touching—Kathryn just hoped it wasn’t misplaced. What if Amanda was right, and Kathryn had come home from her vacation with the mother of all souvenirs? Okay, it couldn’t be true... but what if?

She knew what if. If Whitley picked up any hint of what Amanda believed, he’d have a field day spreading the news—with or without confirmation. She didn’t want to think about Brubaker’s reaction to being told that his protégé, who he thought of as a daughter, was about to become an unwed mother.

Damn Amanda! Kathryn would have to come up with some truly fiendish revenge to pay her friend back for putting her through this torture.

* * *

Amanda flopped down on Kathryn’s sofa and stashed a brown paper bag under the coffee table. “Man, I’m beat. Bring me a glass of wine, will you?”

“Sure.” Kathryn went to the kitchen and took two wine glasses from the cupboard and a bottle of white zinfandel from the fridge. “Tough day?”

“Yeah. My last client is a nut job. She insisted on hanging an antique mirror in the bedroom.”

“How tragic.” Kathryn returned to the living room with the wine glasses full.

“As a matter of fact, it is. It’s basic bedroom feng shui. Mirrors in the bedroom cause trouble sleeping and encourage cheating. So there.” Amanda stuck out her tongue.

“If you say so.”

Amanda picked up a glass. “I do say so. I also say we won’t be needing two glasses of wine. I’m not that thirsty.”

“The hell we won’t. I can’t wait to down that glass, as soon as I take the test and it comes back negative.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into not drinking this week.”

“It means a lot to me that you agreed. It’ll mean a lot to your baby, too.”

Kathryn rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. Sipping this white zin is going to be sweet, but not as sweet as sipping the primo twenty-one-year-old Glenlivet you’re going to have to buy me. Oooh, that’s gonna go down smooth. I can taste it already.”

“You’re not going to be tasting any alcohol for another nine months.” Amanda retrieved the bag and pulled out a pink box. “I brought the test. Did you do what I said?”

“Yeah. I haven’t peed in four hours. But you didn’t have to buy the test. I should have been the one to embarrass myself.”

“I wanted to make sure we had the right one. And I wasn’t embarrassed. I pretended it was for me, and I was happy.”

Kathryn patted Amanda’s shoulder. “I’m sorry if thinking I’m knocked up is making you feel bad.”

“No. You were right. Ben’s like you; he’s a planner. He’ll be happier scheduling a baby, instead of letting a pregnancy just happen.” Amanda shuddered. “Ugh.”

“Plan isn’t a four letter word. Well technically it is, but you know what I mean.” Kathryn reached for the box. “Give me that. Let’s get this over with.” She shook the box to get at the instructions, and two test sticks fell out. She looked at Amanda. “Why are there two?”

“Sometimes if you take the test early, you’ll get a false negative, so if the first test comes back negative, you take the second test a week or so later to be sure.”

“By then I’ll have gotten my period, so I won’t have to bother. What about false positives?”

“They don’t happen. The test detects a hormone that’s only given off during pregnancy. You can’t detect something that isn’t there.”

“So bad news is definite, but good news is conditional? Well, that sucks.”

Amanda shot her a sharp look. “I wish you’d stop talking that way. You’re sending your baby negative vibes.”

Kathryn rose, a test stick in hand. “Enough already about this fictional baby. I’m putting an end to this nonsense.”

She walked into the bathroom and closed the door. After following the directions, she set the test stick on the sink and returned to the sofa. “We’ll have the results in three minutes. One sweet line, for not pregnant.”

Out of nowhere, a blast of panic hit her. She rested her elbows on her knees and hunched her shoulders forward. What was wrong with her, letting Amanda’s whacked-out notions get her all rattled? Thank God, in another two minutes they’d have the results. She’d be massively relieved to banish her friend’s new age mumbo jumbo with scientific proof.

Amanda peered at Kathryn over the rim of her wine glass. “I hope you’ll be okay with this either way.”

Kathryn lifted her head and made an attempt at a smile. “Sure, I’ll be okay. I’m always okay. I just need to get through the longest minute of my life.”

Amanda rose from the couch. “Tell you what, I’ll go get the test and bring it out here. You’re looking a little shaky. I think you should get the news sitting down.”

“And have you find out before me? Not a chance. This is my life we’re talking about.” Kathryn pushed herself up in slow motion and stood next to Amanda. “If I didn’t love you so much, I’d kill you for scaring me out of my wits.”

Amanda draped an arm across Kathryn’s shoulder. “You need your answer. Let’s go.”

Kathryn’s confident posture returned as they walked to the bathroom. In a few seconds she’d get her life back. They crossed onto the tile floor and then were at the sink. She picked up the test stick and raised it to eye level.

Two pink lines.

What? That was impossible. She shook the stick and looked again.

Still two lines.

This couldn’t be happening—but it was. “Oh my God, Amanda, there are two lines.”

“I know.”

“It’s true. I’m pregnant.” The test stick slipped from Kathryn’s hand and landed in the sink with a clatter. Suddenly she couldn’t get any air in her lungs. She grabbed the edge of the sink for support.

Amanda’s hands came around her waist, guided her to sit on the toilet lid, and pushed her head between her knees. “Breath slowly. You’re hyperventilating.”

When she could breathe again, Kathryn sat up and shot Amanda a helpless look. “This was so not part of my plan. How could this happen?”

Amanda handed her a glass of water. “Didn’t you take sex ed?”

“Not funny. God, Amanda, when I screw up, I really screw up.”

“Yeah, you never do anything halfway.”

Kathryn scowled. “You’re taking my crisis awfully calmly.”

“I already knew, remember?” Amanda gave Kathryn’s shoulder a squeeze. “Don’t worry, everything will work out. I think this was the universe’s way of telling you something was missing in you life.”

Kathryn shook her head. “This is a disaster. What am I going to do?”

“You have a lot of options. The first thing you need to do is tell Steve, so you can decide together.”

“How am I supposed to face him with news like this?”

“It’s not like this is all your fault. As the saying goes, it takes two to tango. Besides, has it ever occurred to you that he might be happy about becoming a father?”

“Not likely. He’s just getting established in his career. The last thing he needs is a baby.”

“Maybe you should let him decide what he needs.”

“Funny, he told me the same thing recently.”

“Well, then.”

The phone rang, and Amanda took off toward the living room. “I’ll get that.”

Kathryn stood and followed in slow motion, her feet feeling like blocks of concrete.

Amanda lifted the receiver. “Hello? Really? What interesting timing. Send him up.” She put the receiver back and sat down on the couch next to Kathryn. “Steve’s on his way.”