Hourglass Squared (5 page)

Seated on the edge of my Jacuzzi tub with four empty water gallon jugs thrown across the bathroom floor, I stared at the row of twelve pregnancy tests lined up on the granite counter tops of our elongated his-and-her sink.

The twist of the lock on the front door startled me, and all the blood drained from my face, but I was unable to move in order to hide the evidence. I was frozen on the side of the tub, stuck like a sticker to paper. The bathroom door pushed open, and I used all of my might to move my eyes toward the door. O
h, thank God, it's Brooke.

Her hands shot straight up toward her mouth, and she glanced from the counter to me and back and forth at least three more times thereafter, worry radiating through the expression on her face.

My body all of the sudden felt light, and I was finally able to move, picking myself up off the tub so I was standing, and, in an instant, I went into hyper-drive, pacing back and forth on the cold tile floor while explaining myself to Brooke. "It's not what it looks like. I mean, okay, yeah, maybe it is, but trust me, Brooke, I went to the store and literally spent an hour with the sales clerk, picking out all of the very best brands of pregnancy test kits — this lady has five kids, so trust me, she knows what works and what doesn't — I only bought the test kits that were expensive — expensive means it's better, right?"

Rambling on without ever stopping to take a breath, I kept going as Brooke just stood there in shock, hands still on her mouth, gawking at me.

"I'm not pregnant, I can't be — sure these stupid tests all have two lines and smiley faces and hell, this one even says,
You're Pregnant
— but it's fine — I can't believe all of those — like I said, the more expensive it is, the better it is — and this test—" Picking up one of the sticks, I held it in the air and waved it around like I was holding the winning lottery ticket. "This test was the most expensive test of them all and look what it says, Brooke. It says negative!" I shouted.

Finally sucking in a deep breath, I collapsed onto the toilet and my eyes filled with tears as Brooke ran over and knelt in front of me, taking my hands into hers. She stared up at me for what seemed like eons before she finally spoke, and when she did, it was in the faintest of whispers. "Sav, I think we need to get you to the doctor. You'll feel better once you hear it from a professional. I mean, you're right. These tests could all be wrong, and then you'd be worrying for nothing."

I glanced down at my best friend, who was trying to make me feel better, but she and I both knew I didn't need a doctor. There was no doubt about it. I was pregnant. And as the realization came crashing down on top of me, my body filled with rage. Standing off the toilet, I made sure that Brooke was out of my way and let the anger take hold of my body.

Furious, I swiped my hands across the countertop as I watched multiple pregnancy tests go flying through the bathroom, and, before I knew it, I was forcefully pounding my fists as hard as humanly possible against the mirror that was doing nothing but reflecting the image of a pregnant woman. Me. Tears poured down my face, and screams escaped from the depths of my body as my hands came into contact with shards of glass over and over again as I continued pounding away at the mirror.

Finally, two arms wrapped around me, fighting with all of their might to pull me away from the mirror. I snapped out of my enraged state when I realized my best friend was trying to stop me from hurting myself further, and I sunk back into her body as she lowered me to the floor. She was talking a mile a minute, but all I could hear was mumbling as she ran from the room. Looking down to my hands, I cringed at the sight of open wounds covered in dark red blood, and the very last thing I remember is the black mask that took over my eyes.

Waking up, I looked around a small room, enclosed off by what looked like sheets hanging from the ceilings. I could hear the commotion outside the closed off space, but I couldn't see it. Pushing down against the bed, I tried to sit up, but sharp twinges of pain had me looking down to my hands that were wrapped in white gauze.

Brooke jumped off the chair to the right of me. "Hey," she said, a hint of worry in her tone, "you finished pretending you're Mike Tyson?"

A smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth as the flood of memories came to the forefront of my mind, and I remembered myself assaulting my bathroom mirror. Just before I could respond, the doctor walked in. "Mrs. Worthington, I'm glad to see you're awake. Just so you are aware, there are stitches in your left hand. Luckily for you, your right hand sustained little damage."

I glanced down at my hands again and shook my head. What was I thinking flying off the handle like that?

The doctor interrupted my thoughts. "I'm going to sign off on your paperwork, and you'll be free to go. Oh, and one more thing. I was able to run a few more tests while you were asleep, and it does, in fact, look like you are pregnant. Congratulations."

With those very words, I remembered exactly why I'd flown off the handle.

Brooke could see the pain in my eyes, so she tried to calm me down before I could get worked up again. "Savannah, please, just take a deep breath."

Inhaling a deep breath, I sat up and flung my legs over the side of the bed and slipped my sandals onto my feet. I stood tall, squared my shoulders, and glanced at the clock. It was five in the afternoon "I need to get home. Jake will be home by eight, and I need to get that mirror fixed and the bathroom cleaned up."

Brooke's face paled. "Don't you want to talk about the…" I cut her off before those four letters, b-a-b-y, could escape her mouth.

"Please, don't say it."

The white towels and bathroom rug all soaked in bleach while the maintenance guys Carl had sent up installed the new mirror. Brooke hadn't left my side, but was a nervous wreck. She kept asking what I was going to tell Jake, and I knew she was talking about the baby, but I just kept telling myself it was about my battered hands.

"Ma'am, the mirror is as good as new. Is there anything else we can assist you with while we are here?"

I walked to the bathroom, and they followed as I examined their job, sliding my bandaged fingers over the brand new, flawlessly installed glass mirror. "Perfect, I think that is all. Thank you again for being able to fix this so quickly."

The tall lanky Spanish man nodded his head. "Not a problem."

Ensuring every piece of evidence that they'd been in my condo was picked up, I showed them to the door and then turned to meet Brooke in the kitchen. Reaching for a bottled water, I peered over to the wine refrigerator. "Would you tell on me if I got really drunk right now?"

Brooke scoffed, "No, I'd just beat you over the head with the bottle before you could pour yourself a glass."

Lightly laughing, I took a seat next to her on the barstool. "How did this happen, Brooke? Six weeks ago, you and Josh invited us over to announce your pregnancy, and now Jake and I are in the same boat. I just don't understand. I took my birth control like clockwork, never missing a single day. Jake even uses condoms, and you know how anal I am about tracking my ovulation. I watch that thing like a hawk. I just don't get it. This is not the plan I had in mind."

Brooke rubbed my arm. "It's life, and it's not going to go according to plan every time. You've just got to roll with the punches. It's not that bad. Jake is a wonderful husband and is going to be thrilled. Sure, you're upset, but I promise you, babies are such a blessing. Nine months from now when you're snuggled up with Jake junior, you're going to sit back and wonder what the fuss was all about. You won't be able to ever imagine your life without that perfect bundle of joy."

I rolled my eyes, "Whatever, Brooke, I don't believe that garbage about the minute they place the baby in your arms you forget about everything else, and those motherly instincts kick in."

Brooke looked at me, and I could see that she was saddened by my lack of excitement, when all of the sudden, Jake's voice rang through the condo. "Babe, I'm home."

Startled, both our bodies jumped, and I looked at Brooke, panic on my face as I whispered, "Not a single word about this." Pointing to my belly, I glared at my best friend. "Do you understand? He cannot find out."

Brooke's mouth fell open, and she whispered back, "That's not fair, Sav. You've got to tell him. You can't keep this from him."

Jake walked up to me and wrapped his arms snuggly around my body. His beard skimmed my cheek when he kissed me. "Tell me what?" he asked.

I lifted my bandaged hands, and Jake lightly grabbed my wrists. "What happened to you? Are you okay?"

I forced a happy smile. "You know how crazy I can get at work. There was a photo shoot today, and I wanted a better angle, but gravity wasn't on my side. I fell off the ladder and sliced my hands on some of the props, only five stitches in my left hand. I'll be as good as new in a few weeks."

Brooke glared at me as if she was going to wrap her hands around my throat and strangle me for lying to Jake.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Brooke

I
WALKED IN THE
front door of my home, basking in the aroma of the taco meat and queso. Some fiesta music playing in the background led me to the kitchen where I found my amazing husband chopping and dicing toppings.

"Hola, como estas?
" he joked as he turned to face me; instantly dropping the enthusiasm as he spotted my face. "Brooke, honey…" Taking my hands, he held them delicately, caressing the skin with the pads of his thumbs. "What's wrong? Are you feeling sick? I was hoping you'd be up for Taco Tuesday, but I can get rid of it." After he released one hand, he felt my forehead and looked me over for any sighs of nausea.

I rolled my shoulders back as the knot in my stomach tightened its hold on me. Josh and I had no secrets between us, and every ounce of me pleaded with my brain to tell him. But that other piece, the part of me that had known Savannah since our days in preschool at KinderCare knew that I couldn't. I had been sworn to secrecy before driving off from the condo. Shaking my head, I relieved his worry, forcing a half-truth though my lips. "It's Savannah. She fell off a ladder at work and cut her hands up pretty bad. I had to rush her to the hospital, and I was just scared."

"Oh, Brooke," He soothed, pulling me in and wrapping his strong arms around me.

"She will be fine," I amended. "But this dinner, it smells delicious." I felt terrible, weighed down by the guilt as soon as the lie and redirect came out of my mouth.

Josh, none the wiser, spun around and began fixing up our tacos, knowing exactly what I would want on mine as I took a place at the table.

The next day at work I dragged my feet as I walked in to my office, exhausted from a restless night's sleep. Savannah came barreling in, looking at my outfit with a critical eye. In a rush to escape the house and Josh's innocent questions, I'd thrown on a maxi-skirt and shirt, tossed my hair up in a bun, and dabbed on some makeup on my drive. Plopping in my desk chair, I rubbed my temples with my fingers in exasperation.