Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 88490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Like everyone around me, I’m unaffected by her tears. I’m worried about Blake, who just stormed out of the house. Either that, or the front door decided to slam itself.
“Mama,” Molly starts.
Blake’s mother holds up her hand.
The curly-haired woman instantly falls silent.
Soft footsteps approach the doorway as Brenna reappears. She’s whiter than the tablecloth, her expression utterly wrecked as she stares at her best friend. Then she plops into her chair and drops her head in her hands. “I’m…having a migraine, I think.”
“Oh no,” Molly whispers. “Let me…” She rises, but as she approaches, Brenna’s head snaps up, a challenge in her eyes.
Molly takes a step back. And then another.
We’re all staring at her now. Everyone’s probably wondering the same thing I am—what the hell? How do you make up such a monumental lie and then cling to it? I have to wonder if she repeated it enough times that she somehow convinced herself it was true.
Molly grabs her pocketbook off the back of her chair. She walks out of the house, and nobody follows her. The door slams a second time.
I don’t blame Blake for deserting me in the middle of this war zone, but I would like to find him before he does something stupid, like get into his Hummer and beat his head against the steering wheel.
I scrape back my chair. The noise it makes is like nails on a chalkboard, echoing in the dining room like a haunted house soundtrack. “I’m going to check on Blake,” I say awkwardly.
I only take two steps before Brenna gasps loudly. “I think I’m gonna…” She lurches out of her chair in the direction of the doorway.
Since I’m already on my feet and mobile, it only makes sense that I’m the one who follows her hastily into the half bathroom, where she barely makes it over the toilet before vomiting forcefully. Two seconds later, I have her hair in one hand and a tissue in the other.
She takes the tissue with a shaking hand and wipes her mouth, turning to me with wide, frightened eyes. “I don’t feel good.”
Then, while I watch, she sort of melts down onto the bathroom floor and buries her face in her hands.
By the time I seat myself beside her, Mama Riley is already peeking through the doorway. “I’m going to get you your phone,” she says. “You need to tell your doctor how you’re feeling.”
Brenna shakes her head. “It’s just…I got upset. I’m so…stressed.” She puts a hand to her chest.
Mama Riley disappears anyway.
I’m watching Brenna, and for some reason, I’m terrified for her. Something is just off.
“Brenna,” I say softly. “Where does it hurt?”
“My head. And I’m dizzy.”
Anyone can get a migraine. But my Spidey-sense is tingling like crazy. She’s sitting with her feet straight out, giving me a view of her swollen ankles. I touch one gently, and when I pull my finger away, the indent is still visible. “Brenna, do you know what preeclampsia is?”
“High blood pressure, right?”
“Yeah. When my sister was on bed rest in the spring, they were worried about it for her. That’s what your symptoms remind me of. Maybe I’m just a nervous Nelly, but…” I swallow hard. “Will you have your blood pressure checked just to make me feel better? Pretty please?”
She groans. “I’m not having this baby today. I’m only thirty-eight weeks.”
That’s not even dangerous, and I’ll bet Brenna knows it. “Are you afraid?” I ask gently.
“Hell yes.”
I let out a shaky laugh just as her husband appears in the doorway. I know I’m just a first-year nursing student, and not even a very good one, but I tell Charlie my concerns anyway because I can’t help myself.
“Let’s not waste time waiting for the doctor to call back on a Sunday,” I suggest. “She should go to the ER for a blood pressure check, just to be safe.”
“Let’s go,” Charlie says immediately while Brenna starts to cry.
***
I spend the next hour worrying that I’ve sequestered the entire Riley family at a suburban hospital for no good reason.
At the ER, Brenna is whisked into an exam room while the rest of the Rileys pace. Blake looks distraught. I can’t stand the sight of his worried face, so I plant him in a chair and rub his shoulders until my hands give out.
When a young doctor comes out to tell us that Brenna will be transferred to the obstetrical ward for an emergency C-section, Blake hangs his head. “This is my fault,” he mumbles. “If I hadn’t lost my shit, this wouldn’t be happening.”
I dig my hands into his messy hair and tug until he’s forced to lift his head up to look at me. “That’s a lot of bullshit, Blake Riley. Brenna’s had this problem all week. The weight gain. The swollen hands and feet. This doesn’t have anything to do with you or Molly.”