Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 101398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Love you forever, Summer
Ten pounds of stress and ten more of uncertainty leave my body in a wave, and my head falls back, the paper and my hands landing in my lap.
Get to the good part.
Summer took my meager little whisper and turned it into a shove. As of today, I can’t ignore Norah anymore.
Wednesday, September 29th
Norah
Josie stares at me while I stare at her, her position in her bed disturbed only by my psychotic, uninvited entrance into her room.
“Let me get this straight,” she says through a sleep-clogged, scratchy throat. “You called a doctor two towns over and made an appointment before normal business hours—before dawn—because you’re worried about someone seeing you going to the doctor and blabbing to Bennett about the impending bundle of joy before you get the chance?”
I follow along with her entire ramble, counting off the words for validity and completeness on my fingers, and then pause briefly when she’s done to consider before replying, “Yes. Exactly.”
“Norah—”
“No, no, Josie. You don’t get to tell me I’ve lost my mind when I’ve already been in the newspaper three times after living here for less than half a year, okay? You know I’m right to do it this way.”
“But today was my only day to sleep in while Todd opens. Whyyyy?”
“Because this was your only day to sleep in, silly. And I need you to go with me. Plus, this is the absolute earliest I could bribe this doctor into opening for me, and I had to promise a one-of-a-kind Bennett Bishop painting to her in order to do it.”
“Norah! And just exactly how are you going to follow through on that one, huh?”
I shrug. “Easy. I’m still doing all the legwork for Bennett’s day-to-day, and Breezy likes me. I’ll tell her where the painting is going, and she’ll send me the label to ship it.”
“Bless it. I need just an ounce of your energy for insane ideas.”
“Please.” I roll my eyes. “So says the woman who is furthering our Grandma’s legacy by selling mass-produced candles in a handmade Ponzi scheme.”
“Norah…”
“Josie, get up. I need a support person with me, okay?”
Josie sighs. “What? Handing me the stick with your pee on it four days ago wasn’t enough for you?”
“I need official confirmation. I need a reason to get up the courage to tell Bennett. I need…this. Can you just get out of bed…please?”
Josie shakes her head, but this time, she smiles. “Okay. But seriously, I’m not looking forward to the harebrained ideas you’re going to come up with while you’re hormonal.”
Twenty minutes later, just as the sun is rising, we’re in the car and on our way to Burlington. The last time I drove this way, I was in Bennett’s truck, following Summer’s helicopter to the hospital. I expect it to hurt like hell, but instead, I feel this weird sense of kismet. Almost like Summer herself is guiding me through this crazy time.
Finally, Josie pulls into the parking lot and shuts off the engine. I make a move to get out of the car, but she just sits there, a blank stare on her face. When I glare at her, she flinches out of it, teasing, “Oh, did you want me to go inside with you?”
I snort and she laughs, though it sounds a little forced. And when I look at her face again, something feels off, but I can’t put my finger on it.
“Are you—” I start to ask if she’s okay, but Josie is quick to cut me off as she hops out of the driver’s seat.
“Come on.”
I don’t hesitate to follow.
It’s a quick walk and no wait, thanks to the hour, so before I know it, we’re in the exam room, and the doctor is coming through the door. Josie sits up straighter in her chair and puts away her phone, and I tuck my arms across my plastic-drape-covered lap.
“Hi, Dr. Vesper. Thanks for agreeing to this.”
Dr. Vesper is a stout woman with a warm smile and a smattering of wrinkles right at the corners of her lips. She’s probably in her late fifties, judging by her skin, but I have to say, she looks to be aging really gracefully.
“Yes, well. I’m used to desperate moms-to-be on the phone, but I have to admit your desperation sounded a little different.”
I cringe a little. Yeah, I imagine it did, seeing as I’m not entirely sure I’m not hallucinating all of this at this point.
“All right, so we ran the urine sample you gave us, and you are definitely pregnant, my dear. HCG levels look good, but since you’re only six weeks or so, we’re going to hold off on the ultrasound. I don’t like to do them until at least eight weeks. That way, we can feel confident we’re going to hear a heartbeat.”
I know Dr. Vesper is still talking, but my brain is too busy doing a buzzing bounce on the words you are definitely pregnant.