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Aug. 10th
“What the hell is this?” Mack came into my room and threw the pregnancy pamphlets down on my bed. Shit. It looked like the cat was out of the bag and I had no more time to decide how I wanted to handle Tripp because my brother was about to force the issue, whether I was ready for him to or not.
“Pamphlets.” It was a dry answer for a question I wished he hadn’t asked. Mack rolled his eyes at my response.
“Why the hell do you have them?”
“A doctor gave them to me,” I shrugged, as if it really wasn’t that big of a deal and I could see Mack slowly losing patience with me.
“Cut the shit, Kim. What the hell is going on?”
Okay, so he wasn’t slowly losing his patience anymore, he’d lost it. Judging by the vein throbbing in the side of his neck, I didn’t have any time left before he either stroked out or blew a gasket. Neither option was appealing to watch.
“I haven’t been feeling well, so I went to see a doctor. They did a pregnancy test.”
He nodded his head as if I’d asked a question in need of a response and then he stared at me. “I’m waiting for the rest.”
“I don’t want to talk about it yet.”
“Tough shit. Start talking, now.”
I sighed at my brother’s overbearing bullshit. “Can you at least sit down first? You’re making me nervous standing there with your fists all bunched up like that.”
He seemed legitimately shocked that he was indeed standing there in such an aggressive posture. “I would never hurt you. This isn’t for you, you know that, right?” I nodded because I did. There was no doubt in my mind that my brother was plotting someone’s murder. He was just waiting to find out who he had to kill.
“I’m pregnant, and I haven’t said anything yet because I’m not sure it’s a good idea to tell the father.”
“Why the fuck not?” Mack cocked his head to the side in a thoughtful gesture before he asked, “Who is the father?”
“Seriously, Mack?”
“Yeah, seriously. I don’t know what you’ve been up to since Tripp killed your crush.” I really could punt my brother right out of the room for being so damn dense.
“You can’t be that big of an idiot,” I accused, and he growled at me like I was in the wrong. “You literally just said his name.” Mack rolled his eyes, so I started to point out facts he couldn’t refute. “I’ve been working and coming home to sulk over my crush decimating my heart. Then I started to get sick, and I’ve been so damn tired. I literally have only left this house to go to work and the one trip I took to the doctor. If you think on it, you’ll realize I’m always here when you’re around.”
“You’re saying Tripp is the father?”
“I’m saying he’s the only person I’ve had sex with in over a year, so yeah, he’s the only potential candidate for fatherhood.”
“The night of the party?” He asked.
“Yep.”
“So, you’re what?” His eyes rolled up and to the side as he did the mental math. “You’re like eight weeks along already?”
I shrugged. “They go by my last period, even though I know the date I conceived. So, I’m more like a little over ten weeks now.”
“How can they say you’ve been pregnant longer than you have been?”
“Don’t ask me, I’m not the doctor.”
“When is your next appointment?”
“I haven’t made one yet.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t exactly have the extra money lying around to pay for it. I need to go see if I can get help with insurance or something because honestly, I’ve called around and asked the hospital how much it costs to have a baby and I’m scared I’ll have to give birth at home and hope for the best.”
