“Hi, sweetie.” As soon as I hear my mom’s voice, my lips tremble, and my face contorts as I begin crying. “What’s wrong?” My mom’s worried voice hits me in the chest, and I shake my head, covering my mouth with my hand as tears fill my eyes.
“Allyson, talk to me.” I see my mom lean forward, her face closer to the screen.
“Mom…” I cry out. “I-I-I’m pregnant.” I suck in a breath, hiding my face with my hands. I can’t stand to see the shock on her face, so I rather hide.
“What?” my mom whispers. “Allyson, look at me.” I peek up at her, my palms wet with tears. “Tell me what’s going on.” Her soft voice calms me enough to take a deep breath.
“I’m so sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean for this to happen.” I shake my head, feeling as if I’m five again after I broke her favorite vase full of flowers because I took a corner too sharply.
“Don’t apologize. Start from the beginning.” She talks to me slowly, patience oozing from her, and I wish she were here or me there. I wish we were having this conversation in person instead of calling her in a bout of sorrow and spilling this news like this.
I tell her what happened at the wedding, as embarrassing as it is to tell my mom I had sex. By the time I get to the part about Camden’s silence, her eyes are filled with tears. I remove the brownies from the oven as I watch a mixture of emotions flicker through her face, her salt and pepper hair pulled back in a bun giving me a clear view of them.
“Camden is a good person, and he’ll do right by you.” I open my mouth to argue, but she keeps talking. “That doesn’t always mean an engagement, but I’m sure he’ll help with the baby.”
“I always thought when I got pregnant, I would be married, in love, and ready for it.” I shake my head, tucking my lower lip between my teeth.
“You can still have that in life. This one situation doesn’t mean your life is ruined. It’s a blessing. Look at it that way. And heck, you’re gonna make me a grandma,” my mom’s voice wavers. Then, she chuckles to herself.
“What’s so funny?” I wipe my cheeks with the back of my hands.
“I was just telling Camden the other day that he should consider settling down. Oh, the irony of life.” She shakes her head as if this were the most amusing thing in the entire world.
Once I get her to focus again, I tell her all my worries and how I have no idea what will happen with my job. Then, I mention that I don’t know how to tell Easton, nor do I want to ruin his friendship with Camden because of this.
Although my mom assures me everything will work out as it should, and my brother will not be upset, I can’t help but feel angry butterflies in my stomach attempting to break through and cause havoc. I’m not as confident as she is.
- - - - -
It was a quiet weekend after my meltdown, my talk with my mom, and getting over the fact that Camden never replied to my message. Instead of quiet, it was actually a rough weekend, but quiet sounds better, more fulfilling. I did, however, have to dodge text messages from Rubén and Dawn, asking why I was staying in on a Saturday night.
If they only knew.
I want to keep this to myself, especially with co-workers, until I have a solid grasp on what’s going on and move through the early weeks of this pregnancy. That means I’ll have to play the sick or tired card a few times to avoid going out and being asked why I’m not drinking. I can only fool my friends for so long.
Speaking of, Dawn peeks into my office as I’m settling in.
“Hey, how are you feeling?” She smiles genuinely.
“Better, thanks.” I called in sick on Friday with no details of what exactly I was feeling. Although my pale face and sour expression are enough to prove I feel ill.
“I’m happy to hear that. Have a good day.” I sigh when she leaves my office. My head drops onto my hands. It’s going to be a long day.
The best way to make the hours pass is work, so I check on what I missed or left pending for Friday and start catching up on what needs to be done first. Thankfully, that keeps my mind busy as the morning passes in between paperwork, curriculums I’ve received, meeting with employees, and a call with my boss in Richmond. Before I know it, it’s time to head home for lunch, and I’m looking forward to getting some fresh air as I walk home.
Madrid has shifted from crowded tourists to a routine as kids go back to school. I see different children dressed in their uniforms, talking a mile a minute to their mothers as they also head home for lunch. A pang hits me in the pit of my stomach as I watch them, wondering if I’ll raise my own child here or in the States.
As I approach my apartment building, I squint my eyes and then shake my head to remove the tricks my mind is playing. Ever since I got back from Everton, I’ve been seeing doubles—men who look like Camden and remind me of him. It’s annoying as hell, more so today when I just want to forget about him and move on.
The man I thought was Camden stands as I reach my door, smiling sheepishly. My eyebrows furrow, blinking rapidly.
“Hey.”
My heart jumps to
