This was why I never liked having roommates. Sooner or later, they got too close. I didn’t allow any closeness. It was another one of my rules. No one would ever guess how many rules I lived by. My life was uniformly chaotic, and there was a reason for it.
Curled up on my bed again, I took several deep breaths. Ava wasn’t trying to take my control from me. I was sure of it. But it still took several minutes to convince myself as much. Falling asleep with so much nausea and unease filling me was not easy.
The next morning, I had a fresh bout of nausea, but once I threw up, it was gone. Which boded well for me, since I had to go in to work that morning. Ava only asked me once if I was feeling better, and I nicely let her know I was. It was mostly true. There was still something that felt off, but I wrote it off as hunger after throwing up all night. Accepting one of the Gatorades she got me at some point between my shower and breakfast was more difficult than she would ever know. After scarfing down some Eggos, I headed off to work with the electrolyte drink in hand, leaving Ava to her homework.
The diner both Ava and I worked at—I had gotten her the job when she first moved in almost a year before—wasn’t too far from the apartment. It was set up in an old building where everyone knew they could get the best Creole on Broadway. Inside was brightly lit from the sun shining through the large front windows. The floor was black-and-white tile, and the tables had mismatching chairs surrounding them. It didn’t seem like much, but the place could get a line wrapped around the corner during a rush.
“Hey, Tim!” I greeted my boss, who had to be six-five. His ebony skin almost shined in the light of the sun.
“Have a long night, Kate?” he asked while unlocking the café, leading me inside.
I didn’t deign his comment worth a reply, especially since flipping him off would likely get me fired. We worked together getting the diner ready for the day while the cooks prepped in the kitchen. Tim was a good guy. Not too bossy, a bit caring, young to be the owner of such a great restaurant, but it had been handed down to him. If I were honest with myself, he was someone who could be a cool brother, probably since he reminded me of Delia’s older brothers. Even though that was most of the reason I’d applied to work there after eating a fantastic bowl of gumbo over two years before, I didn’t much like thinking about it or the friend I hadn’t spoken to in too long.
The day went by slowly, but I was feeling mostly better, so I didn’t complain too much. We had a good lunch rush, making me enough money that I could grab groceries on the way home. The only issue I had while serving my tables was that I had to run to the bathroom to pee about a million times, but I figured it was due to the amount of water I drank whenever I felt nauseous.
It wasn’t until one of my customers ordered gumbo at lunchtime that the nausea hit again in such a forceful wave that I had to ask Tim to take it to the table so I could run to the restroom. It was the craziest thing, since I actually loved gumbo, one of the few things I cherished from my hometown. But the scent of it was off. Maybe it was bad.
When I came out of the bathroom, there was Tim, watching me with his lips pressed together, arms crossed over his chest, dark eyes scrutinizing me. “Honey, you’re looking rough,” he commented.
“Yeah. I was sick last night.” I shrugged it off, going to walk around him so I could get back to work.
“Kate.” He stopped me with a hand gripping my elbow. “I can’t let you work while you’re sick. You gotta get on home and get better. Let me know if you’re still not feeling great tomorrow and I’ll get someone else in.”
My heart sank. I needed the work, needed the money to keep paying my bills. But I also didn’t want another person worrying about me. “I’m really fine, Tim. I just…. The gumbo smelled weird.”
“Even still. I have to send you home.” He gave me a hard look that told me he wasn’t going to budge. And I knew I shouldn’t cause a scene, no matter how badly I wanted to argue. So I complied. Luckily, he let me cash out before I left, so I could get that shopping done before I went home.
While I was walking around the supermarket, I had to pee yet again. And my stomach kept on turning and turning.
It was when I was walking down the tampon aisle that it hit me. The thought of what might be wrong with me. It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. Just the thought of it made me want to laugh, but it also made me nauseous again.
I did the math over and over. The last time I’d had a period was right before we went to Oregon. It wasn’t abnormal that I hadn’t had one in the nine-week gap. I was on birth control. I got that shot that covered you for months, which also made it so you didn’t have a period each month.
Yeah, I was good. That was why I was nauseous, because my period would show up any day. It just might be a rather horrible one. Even still, I snuck three pregnancy tests into the cart. Just in case. My heart pounded as I covered them with all the other items. Not that I knew
