Like life, this game is full of surprises.
—The Haunted Place Player Guide
Learning that Gwen had blocked me on social media hurt. Over the next few weeks, I racked my brain for anything to say or do that might make a difference, but I kept coming up blank. Nathan still thought she’d come around on her own, and talking to him about it didn’t help. Since I didn’t want to argue with him, too, we avoided the subject. The whole debacle strained our relationship. I wasn’t sure how to fix things, other than making up with Gwen. Which seemed impossible.
We played a few more sessions of The Haunted Place, but it felt wrong without her. Cody and Tyler were fine, and Nathan was great, but the empty seat constantly reminded me of the hole in my heart. I kept going to work, going home. The end of my probation loomed, so in my spare time, I applied for every programming-related job within about forty miles. I did a couple of phone interviews, but the gap in my employment record hurt, especially once an interviewer looked up the name of my previous employer—my company with Lucas. The internet is forever, and so are indictments.
I couldn’t leave the work history off because then I looked like I hadn’t worked in four years. I couldn’t disclose it, either, not if I wanted a prayer of getting hired. My best bet seemed to be to hope that Rob would find me something. Thankfully, his history with Lucas put him on my side.
At night, I went home to Nathan. Things were good, but something felt off. Not with him—with me. I couldn’t allow myself to be happy while Gwen was so upset with me. We spent too many nights vegging on the couch, watching The Office, because I felt so sluggish and down.
I wanted to put Operation: Gain Gwen’s Forgiveness into effect right away, but the universe made other plans. After weeks of stress and sleepless nights and interacting with the public during the germiest time of year, the Plague hit me. While Gwen might appreciate me groveling at her feet, the gesture would lose some of its effectiveness if I lay prone on the ground because fever prevented me from standing up.
Not wanting Nathan to get sick, too, I moved back into my old bed for a couple of days. On Day 5, I was scheduled to close the store, so I slept until noon and woke up feeling much better. Carla and John probably wouldn’t mind if I took another day to get back to a hundred percent, but when I called in, one of them had to work late, which meant less time with their kids. I hated to take that away from them.
Besides, I couldn’t afford to take many days off in a row. Massachusetts law required employers to give employees forty hours of paid sick leave a year, but we earned it over time, starting in January. It was only March, and I’d used everything from last year.
Tucking copious amounts of ginger ale into my bag, I set off while Nathan went to run some errands. He would’ve told me to take it easy an extra day, to lie down and watch Netflix while eating chicken soup until the nausea faded for a full twenty-four hours. He didn’t have my student loan debt. Loans I took out expecting to use my inheritance to repay them once I turned twenty-five, back when I had one.
Sure, my bills were low since Nathan refused to charge me market rent or my fair share of utilities, but I made up for it by keeping his fridge stocked and cooking when we were both home. Besides, I needed to rebuild my savings after Lucas took everything. That required going to work.
Carla greeted me with a smile when I entered. “Welcome back! How are you feeling?”
“Gross,” I said. “But I’m here. I’ll make it.”
“Something nasty’s going around. Take care of yourself.”
“It’s fine,” I said. “I’m mostly better. I’m not stuffy or sneezy or anything. Just tired and achy. And my stomach has decided to reject all food. I’m living on tea and crackers.”
She laughed. “I remember those days. And I don’t miss them. You sure I can’t tempt you with some solid food? I’m ordering Chinese.”
My mouth watered, but my stomach revolted. “No thanks. I’m going to make tea, then I should be ready to clock in.”
In the break room, I set the kettle to boil, then sat down at the table to wait. Next thing I knew, Carla was shaking my shoulders. My head rested on the cool surface, although I didn’t remember putting it there. “Holly? Honey? Maybe you should go home.”
“No, I’m fine,” I said. “I don’t know why I’m so tired. I’m sorry. I just need to get up and start moving.”
“You fell asleep. It’s been forty-five minutes since you sat down.” She studied me closely. “I’m here for another hour. It’s slow. I was going to review the stock orders for next month, but you should rest a bit longer. I got you some soup.”
I started to protest, but she waved me off.
“I know you said you didn’t want it, but you need to keep your strength up. Especially if you refuse to go home, which honestly, you should.”
“I’m out of sick leave,” I said. “Can’t afford to go.”
“I should make you.”
“Please don’t. I really need the money.”
She sighed. “I’ll stay with you as long as I can. Maybe if it’s slow, we’ll close early. Can you have some friends come in, start a game so they’re here if you need anything? And maybe give you a ride home? You don’t look like you’re in any condition to take the T.”
Shannon was always up for a game if she wasn’t working on her own projects, and I said so. Nathan would be furious at me for coming in, but he would have no problem sitting here and keeping an eye on me. He could invite Tyler or some of their poker buddies.
“I’ll be fine. Usually I feel better in the evenings. Maybe even well enough to eat later. Thanks, though.”
Carla set the container of soup in front of me, and I thanked her weakly. I opened the lid and leaned forward, inhaling the glorious steam and the mixture of spices. My stomach churned. I jerked backward, away from the table. Broth sloshed everywhere, but I barely registered it. One hand over my mouth, I made it to the sink seconds before the meager contents of my stomach poured out.
Leaning against the sink, I kept my eyes closed, wishing I could open them and find myself at home in bed, dreaming. The odds that Carla hadn’t noticed me puking in the break room sink in front of her seemed slim. What a nightmare. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d thrown up.
To her credit, Carla didn’t say anything. The fridge door rattled, then the next thing I knew, something cool pressed against the back of my neck. Frozen peas, kept in the freezer for emergencies.
“I’m so sorry, Carla,” I said. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Here, come sit with me.” She led me back to the table, then glanced out into the main room before sitting down beside me. “How long have you been feeling bad? Tired, achy?”
I thought for a minute. “I’ve been down the past few weeks. Mostly because Gwen isn’t talking to me. But I’m working on a plan to fix that. I’ve only felt this bad for a few days.”
She nodded, rubbing her chin with one hand. “I was the same way. Tired, down, then sick all the time. For weeks.”
“Ugh, seriously?” I didn’t remember her being sick recently. “I’m not going to get better for weeks?”
“If my suspicions are correct, this condition is going to last for about eight more months.” At my confused look, she leaned forward and placed her elbows on the table. “Forgive me for asking, but have you missed any periods?”
My ears roared. The impact of her words slammed into my already aching belly, and I wanted to start heaving again. Unfortunately, there was nothing left. It had been…many weeks. Since before Mexico. I hadn’t even noticed.
“Oh my God, Carla.” It hurt to form the words. “Are you saying I might be pregnant?”
She nodded. “I think so. You’re tired, achy, and short-tempered. You said you’ve been nauseated for days, but you don’t have a fever or any other cold and flu symptoms. Plus, you just threw up.”
“This can’t be morning sickness. It’s the middle of the afternoon!”
“I’m sorry to say, that term isn’t entirely accurate. During my first pregnancy, I was nauseated most of the day and evening.”
The room swam before my eyes. Not knowing what to say, I sat there being assaulted by different emotions: fear, excitement, concern over what Nathan might say, frustration over how I could be so stupid…then back to fear. A long time passed before I could reply. “Oh, no. What do I do now?”
“Now you take a test. In case it’s something else.”
Willing to grasp at any straw, I smiled at her and nodded. “Thanks. I’ll pick one up after work.”
Maybe she didn’t believe me, because she studied me for a moment before responding. “Do you want me to go to the drugstore for you before I leave?”
A wave of relief quelled some of the nausea. “Yes, please. I can’t sit here and wonder until the end of my shift.”
She patted my arm. “Drink some water. I’ll be back in ten minutes.”
After she left, I went over our interaction in my mind. It could be something else. Nathan and I had been careful. Sure, everyone said condoms weren’t a hundred percent effective, but no one actually believed it. Leaks, breaks, and failures were one of those things that happened to other people.
Carla returned a few minutes later, test in hand. I hadn’t moved a muscle, just sat staring into space while I contemplated what this meant. I’d been planning to finish my probation, get a better job, get my own place, become self-sufficient for the first time in my life. And now, I might have to be responsible for someone else. I’d never get a new job while pregnant.
After thanking her, I took the test into the staff restroom and tried not to have a panic attack. In less than five minutes, my entire life could change. Everything I’d wanted, everything I planned, out the window.
When I was younger, I’d wanted kids. I hated being an only child, because that left me no one else to take care of. I’d been excited when my dad told me his wife was having a baby, until she turned into the stepmonster. It killed me when my attempts to foster a relationship with my half sister got thwarted. Still, I loved playing with Tessa’s son. I’d always assumed one day I’d fall in love, get married, and have my own kids.
But I’d also never planned to fall for someone so much older than me, and I realized with a start that I didn’t have the first clue whether Nathan wanted more kids. Who could blame him if he didn’t? He’d given up his adolescence to raise Gwen. Skipped the keg parties and going to college and pledging a frat to get a job and change diapers. Now that she’d moved out on her own, was I going to ask him to do it all again? It didn’t seem fair.
These thoughts all went through my head in the space of a few seconds. According to the directions, it could take up to three minutes to get results. In actuality, the display flashed before I finished washing my hands. One word: PREGNANT.