Dakota
I’m putting my hair up in a bun on top of my head when I hear the front door open. For a minute I’m afraid it’s my mom, but then Libby’s voice sounds.
“Dakota? Where you at, girlfriend?”
When I hear her voice, a piece of calm washes over me. The last thing I need is Denise making this day worse, and I walk onto the second floor landing just as Libby closes the door behind her. My best friend is like me: she’s a curvy girl with curly brown hair, and she too works at the Red Bean. My job is so much better because occasionally, we’ll have shifts together and we’ll giggle and gossip during break times.
“Hey,” I sniffle. “You didn’t have to come, but I’m glad you’re here.”
“Of course I had to come,” she says indignantly. “I wanted to! Don’t worry, Harmon’s fine on his own at the café.” But then my best friend lifts her hand up, and I see she’s carrying a plastic bag from the drugstore with rectangular-shaped objects inside. “I got one of every kind, sweetie, and I’ll stay as long as you need. Just let me know when you’re ready for this.”
I don’t need her to tell me what’s inside the bag to know she bought me pregnancy tests. Tears start rolling down my cheeks before I realize I’m crying, and in a rush, Libby runs up the stairs and wrapped her arms around me. She holds me while I dissolve into a mess on her shoulder.
“Sorry,” I sniffle, taking a step back and rubbing my hands over my eyes, trying to wipe away the evidence of my sorrow. “I knew I would need to take a test, but I don’t think the reality hit me until I saw that bag in your hand.”
“You don’t have anything to apologize for, and there’s no rush. You do this when you’re ready and I’ll be right here.”
I let out a breath and smile shakily. “Well, I guess I should just get it over with then. It isn’t going to change the outcome if I wait.”
Randomly, I reach into the bag and grab a box. It’s pink and white with a picture of a woman holding a baby on it. Ugh.
“Do you want me to come in there with you?” Libby asks kindly, nodding to the bathroom.
I shake my head. “No, I think I can do this part myself. It’s looking at it afterwards I’m going to need you for.”
“Sure, honey,” she says soothingly. “Whatever you like.”
I nod, take a deep breath, and walk into my bathroom. The instructions are pretty straightforward: remove the cap and pee on the stick. Then wait and see. It takes me a few minutes to calm down enough to do what I need to, and then I sit the test on the edge of the bathtub and wash my hands. Libby is waiting for me in my bedroom, and I make my way over to sit next to her on the mattress.
She puts her arm around my shoulders, and I rest my head against hers gratefully. “It says to check it in ten minutes.”
“I’ll set a timer. Do you want me to look at it for you?”
I shake my head sadly.
“I can do it. Just hold my hand if I freak out though.”
“I’ll be right by your side, girlfriend. Don’t worry about a thing!”
I laugh a bit despite myself and feel my heart expand with gratitude. After all, where would I be without my bestie? We met during freshman year of high school when stupid Cindy McAllister decided to pick on me. Libby stood up to the mean girl and told her the zit on her chin had popped and was leaking pus. I’ll never forget the look on Cindy’s face, and since then, Libby and I have been inseparable.
Meanwhile, we sit in silence while we wait, and never in my life has ten minutes felt so long. Finally, the alarm sounds on Libby’s phone and I jump, nearly crawling out of my skin.
“Hey,” my bestie says as she takes my hand and gives it a squeeze. “Whatever it says, you’re going to be alright, okay? Whatever shows up on that test, I know you can handle it. You’re a strong woman, and I’ll be here to help you every step of the way.”
Again, my chin trembles a bit.
“I’m not so sure, but it helps having you here for this. Thank you for coming. I owe you, Libs. Really.”
She smiles encouragingly at me, and I take a deep breath before walking to my bathroom. It’s scary. The white stick sitting on my tub is like a black hole, with my future as a deep, dark abyss. I stop approximately a foot away from the tub and just stare at it.
“Do you need me to look first?” Libby offers from behind my shoulder. As promised, she has my back.
“No. I need to do this.”
Taking a deep breath, I close the distance between me and the tub and pick up the stick. The word Pregnant stares back at me like a hurricane ready to rip its way through my life and my future. I keep staring at it, unable to process what this means at first. Is there really a baby in my belly right now? One made of both me and Jack Straithmore?
My hands start to shake, and the indicator falls from my palm and hits the floor. The sound of it clattering against the tile is so loud I imagine people several streets away can hear my world shifting and changing right before my eyes.
“This can’t be real,” I stammer. “It can’t be. Jack won’t want the child. Oh god, what am I going to do?”
Sobs hit me like a wrecking ball, but Libby is right there to catch me. She wraps her arms around me and tucks my head into her shoulder, letting me cry. “I’ve got you, sweetie. Shhhh.”
“I—I don’t know,” I try to talk through my tears.
“Shh,” Libby runs her hand up and down my back. “You don’t have to figure it all out right now. Give yourself some time to let this sink in.”
It takes me a few minutes, but my heartrending sobs slow to a gentle sniffle, and Libby walks me back to my bed where we both lay down. I just stare at the ceiling while tears stream down the side of my face, soaking the sheets.
“I don’t have a degree. I work as a barista making minimum wage. How am I going to do all this with a baby?”
Libby reaches across the bed and grips my hand. “You won’t have to do it alone. There are lots of resources, and –”
I cut her off.
“I can’t ask you to drop what you’re doing to help me all the time. And Jack, oh my god, he’s already raised a child. I’m sure he’s done because what man in his 40’s is looking to be a dad again? He isn’t going to want to start over just because I was too stupid to take my birth control at the right time every day.”
Libby thinks for a moment.
“You’re not stupid, and lots of women forget to take their birth control at the same time every day. It’s an easy mistake to make, and god knows, I’ve done it myself multiple times. Besides Dakota, I know you and Jack have only been dating a few months, but have you ever talked about the future? Things like kids and a family and all that?”
I shake my head miserably.
“No. I mean, he’s great, but we haven’t even said ‘I love you’ yet, and he might not even feel that way. I mean, he’s twenty years older than me. This might just be a fun fling to him.”
Libby scrunches her brows.
“Do you really think that’s all this is for Jack? It seems like you guys are more serious than that.”
“I don’t know,” I mutter. But my best friend won’t let me off the hook so easily.
“Really? Because the man you’ve been telling me about, the one who treats you like a queen and always puts your needs first, doesn’t sound like the man you’re describing right now.” She winks at me and I blush. “He doesn’t sound like a man who’s just using you because you’re young and he wants an ego boost. Besides, I’ve seen Jack Straithmore around town, and a man as fine as that doesn’t need a young girl on his arm to make him look good.”
I smile. “He is gorgeous, isn’t he?”
“Exactly.”
“And he does treat me better than I ever hoped for.”
Libs nods.
“A man like that doesn’t have to play games to get a woman. If he’s even half as amazing as you say, then I think he really cares about you. I bet his reaction to the pregnancy is different from what you’re expecting, but you know that there’s only one way to find out. You have to ask.”
Sighing, I hang my head, dejected. “I know you’re right, Libs, but it doesn’t make telling him any easier. He’s going to ask how I got pregnant when we always used contraceptives and --”
My friend stops me.
“It was an accident, honey. These things happen all the time. Don’t you know that half of all pregnancies in the United States are unexpected? But yes, your relationship is going to be put to the test: when you tell Jack Straithmore, what will he do? Will he become a crying baby and scream and yell, or will he handle it like an adult male? I think you’re about to see whether the man you’ve got is really a man.”
I bite my lip and nod.
“You’re right,” I whisper.
“It’s scary,” Libby adds, “but everything you’ve told me about Jack Straithmore so far makes me think that things are going to turn out better than you think. Besides, if he does prove me wrong and acts like an ass, I’ll be the first one to kick his ass. Just say the word.”
We both start laughing. “You’re the best,” I tell her.
“I know. Now, how about we get Mr. Wonderful on the phone and schedule a date for you to see him?”
I release a deep breath. “Okay.”
But despite my smile, my heart’s racing inside. What will Jack say? Will he want me and the child, or will he cast us aside, ready to continue his life as a bachelor about town?