Nata
The half-bath closes in around us with every passing second. The oxygen in the room seems to dwindle because there's no other reason for me to be light-headed. I wrap my arms around Phillip's bicep and rest my cheek on it.
“How much longer?” I ask him.
He angles his phone my way. “One minute and forty seconds.”
“No way." I roll my eyes. "It feels like it’s been a decade.”
As if I was joking, Phillip chuckles. “I told you we should go do something.”
“Not with less than two minutes left.” I lightly punch him into his ribs. He pulls me into his side. The soft cotton of his T-shirt smells like a now-familiar scent of his deodorant.
We watch the window of the stick on the counter that holds the answers to both our futures. Tears pool in the corners of my eyes. I can claim them as happy or sad, depending on the outcome.
I find Phillip’s hand and wrap my fingers around his. “How much longer?”
“One minute and ten seconds.”
I groan in frustration. “I swear time slowed down just to torture us.”
“We will be fine no matter what.”
“D'you think it will say I’m pregnant?” I ask as if he has the information I don’t.
“You know I'm hoping for a yes." Phillip plants a kiss on my temple. "Consider me cautiously optimistic.”
“I think it’s going to be a no.”
“Why?”
“Becuase nothing in my life came easy to me. It will be outside of my life pattern to get pregnant when I want to get pregnant.” I bite my lip to hold the tears in. If I cry now, they will be the sad ones.
Phillip’s tumb caresses my arm in slow up-and-down strokes. “Maybe it’s time for you to get an easier side of life?”
I look up at him. He’s not Santa Claus or a fairy and can’t promise me a life without trouble, but there's something in his attitude toward living that I envy. The ease with which he approaches everything might come from the privilege of wealth or his personal brand of laissez-fair attitude, but right now, I need a little bit of that ease. Even if it’s on loan and only for a day. “Is there an easier side of life?”
“I hope so.” He sets the phone on the counter next to the device and takes both of my hands in his. “I can’t complain, though. My life has't been hard.”
“Are you telling me you’re one of those rare perpetually happy people?”
“Perpetually happy?” Our hands begin to swing lightly between us of their own accord. A calming pendulum that ticks away the seconds. “No. But I can appreciate the gifts I’ve received. And money is one of them. My dad is another. You—”
The timer beeps. We jerk our heads to look at the display window and then back at each other. My heart hammers in my chest, my ears, and the pit of my stomach. Words are fragments floating around me. I remember to breathe. My tears remember to escape. My arms remember their way around Phillip’s waist, and I squish my wet face against his torso.
Phillip’s chin presses to the top of my head as his hand squeezes my chest tighter to his. A sob escapes my mouth, and the hold I had on myself crumbles. I cry happy tears, overwhelmed tears, and can-this-be-for-real tears. My body's release of the stress of the last three minutes is like a flash flood.
“Shhh,” he whispers into my ear. “This is good news. We are going to be parents.”
6.28.23
Author's Note
I finally finished the rest of the pregnancy test situation: short but gets you off that cliffhanger. More to come this week.
Love,
GR
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