For Better or Worse (16 page)

“I know. I can hardly believe it.” He glanced at Kelly. “What did you ever see in me?”

Kelly laughed. “Are you kidding me? There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t praise God for giving me a man who not only loves me, but loves my crazy brood, as well.”

“They’re my crazy brood now, too.”

“Yes, they are.”

Harold watched the road signs as they approached Wilmington. All week he’d looked forward to their evening together. He glanced at his wife. Her face looked pale. He noticed her breathing in through her nose and out her mouth. She wasn’t feeling well again. She’d been doing this for two weeks. “Kelly, I think you need to go to the doctor.”

She shook her head. “I’m fine.” She looked at him and smiled, but he could tell the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Really, I feel fine.”

Harold parked the car, then walked around to open the door for Kelly. He touched her hand. Clammy. “Kelly, I know you don’t want to ruin our plans, but—”

“I’m fine.”

They walked into the restaurant. Live jazz music mixed with the conversation of several couples enjoying their evening. Harold looked at the dark yellow and a-little-bit-of-orange-mixed-with-a-little-bit-of-pink walls. The color reminded him of a salmon fillet before it had been cooked. The lights and pictures were fancy, not as fancy as the Dupont Hotel, but still nothing like he’d have ever gone to if he weren’t married to Kelly.

He loved the circle pattern the place had going. Several of the tables had a secluded feel to them as a large, circular molding extended about a foot from the ceiling around the table. A fancy chandelier hung from the middle. The architectural design of the place was quite interesting.

A guy, waiter, or whatever Kelly said they were called, showed them to their seats. He and Kelly settled into a booth, and the man handed them the menu for the day. The man walked away, and Harold took his wife’s hands in his. He looked at her. Her color did not look good. “Kelly—”

“I’ll be right back.” Kelly covered her mouth and ran toward the restroom.

Harold sat back in the booth and let out a long breath. Something always seemed to happen to put a damper on their time together.
Zoey tells Kelly she’s pregnant before our honeymoon. I mess up Kelly’s surprise dinner. Now, she’s sick. Is it always going to be like this, Lord?

His cell phone vibrated in his pocket. The word H
OME
flashed on the screen. Trepidation washed over him as he pushed O
N
. “Hello.”

“Harold. She’s bleeding.”

His heart started to race. “What?”

“It’s Candy. She tripped over the rug. Hit her head. Zoey’s hurling.” Harold could hear screams and hacking sounds in the background. The television seemed to blare along with it.

“Slow down, Brittany. Have you put something on Candy’s head?”

“Yes. A rag. But she’s bleeding through it. I called Cam.

He’s coming.”

Harold could hear her start to cry. “It’s okay, Brittany. We’re coming.” “Please hurry.”

“Just hold the rag on Candy’s head. Call me if Cam gets there first and has to take her to the hospital.”

Harold raced toward the bathroom. He knocked on the door. “Kelly?”

Brittany, the most sensitive of the three, didn’t handle crises well, and Harold knew the mixture of blood and vomit wouldn’t be good for her to handle alone.

Kelly didn’t answer, so Harold knocked one more time, then walked in. Someone was vomiting in the last stall. Thankfully, no one was in there but Kelly. “Kelly?”

“What are you doing, Harold? I’m fine.”

“Candy hit her head. We’ve got to get home.”

The door opened and an older lady walked in. She screamed when she saw Harold. He placed his hand on his chest. “Sorry, ma’am. We’re leaving.”

Kelly stepped out of the stall. Her face was puffy from vomiting, and some of her makeup smeared down her cheeks.

The woman frowned. She placed her hand on Kelly’s and glared at Harold. “You don’t have to go anywhere with him, young lady. I’ll take you somewhere safe. He can find another woman to torment.”

Harold rolled his eyes and looked at the ceiling. “Believe me, ma’am. I have enough women tormenting me right now.”

Kelly walked to Harold. She looked at the woman. “It’s okay, ma’am. He’s my husband. He didn’t hurt me. I’ve been sick.”

Harold grabbed Kelly’s hand and nodded to the older woman. The woman scowled at him but he ignored her. “Come on. We’ve got to go.”

“What happened?”

“Candy must have fallen. Her head is bleeding a lot, and Zoey’s throwing up.”

Kelly covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh no.”

“Cam’s on his way to the house. They’re going to call if she needs stitches or anything.”

“Oh no.”

Harold guided Kelly toward the car. She didn’t move as fast as he would have expected. He could hear her taking deep breaths. Reaching the car, he pulled out his keys.

“Oh no,” Kelly mumbled again. She turned away from him and vomited in the space beside their car.

Kelly was vomiting. Zoey was vomiting. Brittany was panicking. And Candy was bleeding.
So, this was life with a bunch of women?
Being a bachelor had definitely been easier. Not that he didn’t love his girls. He loved each and every one of them. Whether they were happy, sad, laughing, crying, puking, bleeding. They were his girls, and he loved them.

Kelly rested her elbows on the bar of the grocery cart. It had been a long day. Zoey had called several times asking about her schoolwork. Two more boys had gotten into a fight in her room. What is it with the boys and fighting this year? The nurse from Candy’s school had called to let Kelly know she’d given her daughter pain reliever for her head. It was only four o’clock, and Kelly was ready to call it a night.

Willing herself to keep going, she stood to her full height and made her way toward the antiobiotic cream. Candy’s head wound three days before had resulted in a trip to the emergency room, but thankfully, only required three stitches and a regimen of cream application. Kelly frowned as she thought about the ugly bruise surrounding the cut above Candy’s eyebrow. Harold had been the one tending the wound. It was true that when Tim was alive he took care of all the girls’ cuts and scrapes, but since his death Kelly had played family nurse. But this time she simply couldn’t handle it. Her stomach churned at the thought of it.

What is wrong with me? It’s like I’ve become a full-blown wimp. These flu symptoms have been going on for too long
.

Kelly stopped in front of the Band-Aids, bandages, medical tape, hydrocortisone cream, and more. How many days had she been suffering from the flu?
Okay, I was sick before our Valentine’s date … actually, I was sick more than a week before that
.

She counted days on her fingers. “I’ve been fighting this for well over two weeks.” She took in a long, slow breath. “This is ridiculous. I haven’t run a fever or had any chills. I’m just so nauseated and tired.”

Kelly grabbed the cream and dropped it into the cart. She continued down the aisle in search of cotton balls. Her gaze took in the display of pregnancy tests. A weight dropped in her stomach.
No
. She shook her head.
No way. That’s not possible. I had my tubes tied five years ago
.

She pulled her pocket calendar out of her purse.
Surely, it isn’t possible
. She checked each month.

November?

Fine
.

December?

Fine
.

January?

She searched the days of January. No marks appeared before her eyes. No proof of the days she’d had her menstrual cycle. She flipped the calendar back to December, then counted the weeks to when she should have marked days in January.

She closed her eyes, trying to remember what she was doing on the days in question. Nothing was coming to mind. Why couldn’t she remember having her cycle?

Opening her eyes slowly, she stared at the pregnancy tests before her.
I skipped my period
.

Glancing around her to be sure no one watched, Kelly grabbed a box and tucked it under other items in the cart. I’m sure it’s nothing, but if I go ahead and take the test it’ll set my mind at ease.

No longer able to finish her grocery shopping, Kelly sped toward the checkout line.
If I were pregnant, I would be far enough along that I wouldn’t have to wait until morning to take
the test. I could take it now
. The very thought weakened Kelly’s knees. Her heart raced as she got in line behind an older man with a few items.

“Hey, Mrs. Smith. I can get you over here.”

Kelly looked up and saw one of her junior students motion her to his line. Empty line.

Kelly’s heart plummeted. She glanced around to see if there was anyone—anyone—within the vicinity who could jump into his line. No one. She looked at the older man in front of her who had started talking to the cashier and had yet to place the first item on the conveyor.

“Come on, Mrs. Smith.” She glanced at her student, Jerome. He motioned at her again.

Her feet felt as heavy as bricks as she slowly scooted toward his line, begging God to send someone to jump in front of her. What would he think when he saw the pregnancy test?
Oh, Lord, what do I do? Maybe, I should just take it back and … I know …

She smiled at her student from her third period class. “Hello, Jerome.” She pointed to her cart. “I forgot to pick up some toothpaste. Maybe I’ll catch you in a minute.” She maneuvered the cart around and headed back toward hygiene products.

There. I didn’t lie. We do need toothpaste. I’ll pick some up. Then I’ll just wait until his lane is full, and then I’ll get in someone else’s line
.

Kelly grabbed a tube of toothpaste, dumped it into the cart, and then watched the checkout lanes. In only a matter of moments, a woman, probably the manager, had walked over to Jerome, pulled out his money, and closed his line. Breathing a sigh of relief, Kelly slipped into line behind a young woman and a toddler.

Kelly smiled at the little tike and waved her hand. He turned his face, as if bashful, then smiled one of the sweetest smiles she’d seen in a while. Soon enough, she’d have a grandchild making those adorable faces.
And maybe another child
.

Bile rose in her throat at the idea of it.
What woman had a child months after her grandchild was born?
The thought was ludicrous. Preposterous.

While his mother stood at the front of the cart fumbling through her purse, the little guy leaned over and grabbed a candy bar from the shelf. Before Kelly could respond, he shoved the wrapper into his mouth.

Kelly scrunched her nose. “That’s yucky.” She grabbed the wrapper from the child’s hands, hoping it wasn’t too germ-ridden. His lips puckered, and his face wrapped in the most wounded expression she’d ever seen. Wails, louder than tardy bell at school, expelled from the boy, and Kelly practically jumped out of her shoes.

“I’m sorry.” She handed the candy bar to the child’s mother, who now bore into Kelly with a menacing look. “He put this in his mouth. I’m sure it’s not clean.”

The woman didn’t appear pleased with Kelly’s decision to save the urchin from the threat of bacteria and virus as she took the candy bar from Kelly’s grasp. She allowed the cashier to scan it, then pulled the chocolate from the wrapper and handed it to the boy. The child looked at Kelly as if she were the proverbial bully who’d taken away the child’s sucker as he smashed the chocolate partly into his mouth, but mostly all over his face. Without a second glance, the woman finished paying and pushed the cart out of the aisle and toward the door.

The cashier, an older woman with white hair and a quick smile, winked at Kelly. “That guy was too little to eat chocolate.”

Kelly’s chin quivered as she forced a smile. Usually not that emotional, Kelly focused on taking the items out of the cart. She tried not to look into the woman’s kind eyes as she rang up each item.

“Hmm. This one doesn’t want to scan.”

Kelly glanced up and saw the woman holding the pregnancy test. She moved it across the laser once. Twice. Three times.

“Do you know how much this costs?” She held the box up in front of Kelly, and Kelly felt sure her legs were going to fall out from underneath her.

Kelly shook her head and opened her mouth to tell the woman not to worry about it. That she didn’t need it.

The woman leaned into the microphone next to her cash register. “Price check on aisle 12. I need a price check, please.”

Kelly felt heat flash up her neck and through her cheeks. “It’s okay.” She tried not to beg the woman. “I’ll just get one later.”

“Well, hey again, Mrs. Smith.”

Kelly closed her eyes at the sound of Jerome’s voice behind her. Taking in a deep breath, she turned and smiled at her student. “Hello, Jerome.”

The cashier shoved the box into Jerome’s hand. “I need you to go find out how much this pregnancy test costs.”

Kelly gripped the cart with all her strength, praying her legs didn’t give out from beneath her.

“No problem.” Jerome waltzed toward the pharmacy section and returned within moments. He quoted the price and handed it back to the older woman. “See you Monday, Mrs. Smith.”

Kelly nodded as she pulled her debit card from her purse. She paid the bill then took the receipt from the cashier. The woman winked again. “You’ll be a wonderful mother.”

Kelly couldn’t respond. She raced to her car, loaded the bags, then sped to her house. Shoving the pregnancy test into the bottom of her purse, she took a deep breath then marched into the house.

“Mom, I—” said Brittany.

“Don’t forget—” said Zoey.

Kelly stalked past them. “Sorry, girls. Gotta go to the bathroom first.”

Shutting and locking the door, Kelly swallowed the knot in her throat. She tried not to think about Jerome and what he thought or what he’d say. She tried not to envision a litany of teenagers scoffing at the pregnancy of their “old” English teacher. The one whose teen daughter was also pregnant. She dug into the bottom of her purse and pulled out the box. With trembling fingers, she opened the test and read the instructions. “Times have changed,” Kelly mumbled, “I don’t have to wait until the morning anyway.”