Читать книгу The Consequences - Colette Freedman - Страница 16

CHAPTER 9

“Merry Christmas!” The phone was answered with a breezy chirpiness that immediately lifted Stephanie’s spirits.

“That sounds like the voice of someone who got engaged last night,” she said quietly.

“Stephanie!” Izzie Wilson’s voice rose to a high-pitched squeal.

Holding the phone a little away from her ear, Stephanie asked, “Tell me everything. Are you officially engaged?”

“He got down on one knee, the whole nine yards.” There was a clinking sound on the other end of the phone. “What you are hearing is the sound of a diamond in surprisingly good taste tapping the phone. We’re officially engaged, and we decided not to have a long engagement, probably September. You’ll be my maid of honor, of course.”

“Of course.” Although she was lying flat in bed, Stephanie felt as if everything had lurched. If—and it was still a big, huge, monstrous if—she was pregnant, then the baby would be due in September.

“Izzie, I’m so happy for you and Dave.”

“I knew you would be. So what’s going on? You got there all right? You must be zonked.”

Stephanie had rehearsed her conversation. They’d chat about Izzie’s engagement, talk about Christmas, compare presents and families and how crazy they were, and then, and only then would Stephanie indicate her fears to Izzie. That was the plan.

Instead she blurted out: “I think I’m pregnant.” She was surprised to hear the crack in her voice. She was thirty-three; yet, she was sounding as scared as any teenager.

There was a long silence on the other end of the line. In the background, Stephanie could hear the muted explosions and gunfire of a Christmas Day movie and overloud and slightly drunken laughter. Abruptly the background noise went away as Izzie stepped into another room and shut the door.

“Talk to me.”

Stephanie cupped her hand over the mouthpiece and dropped her voice to little more than a whisper. “I think I’m pregnant,” she repeated.

“And I think I’m rich, but I’m not,” Izzie said pointedly.

“I’m maybe ten days late. . . .”

“I’ve often been ten days late.”

“I know. Me too. But, I’m also feeling very queasy.”

“That could just be the stress of it all,” Izzie said reasonably.

“I know. I thought of that. Or it could be my mother’s cooking. But my breasts are heavy and sore, and I sort of fainted this morning.”

“Sort of fainted! What does that mean? You don’t sort of faint; you do or you don’t.” Izzie immediately went into her doctor mode.

“Just like I said. I was sitting outside on the porch having a cup of coffee and then next thing I know my brother is carrying me in. Plus, my mother asked me.”

“Asked you? Asked you what?”

“If I was pregnant.”

Stephanie could hear Izzie draw in a deep breath.

“She asked if you were pregnant?”

“Yup.”

“Mothers always know,” Izzie said glumly. “My mother could always tell when my sister Rosie was pregnant. And that was usually weeks before Rosie herself knew. And she had four kids. What do you think? Is there any chance you could be?”

“There’s a chance.”

“Didn’t you use protection?”

“Most of the time, but not all the time and not for the last two times.”

“Oh, Stef!”

“I know, but in the throes of passion . . .”

“How do you feel about being a mother?”

Stephanie licked suddenly dry lips. A mother. Izzie would make a great mother; Joan, her youngest sister, would make a great mom, but no, not her. Not now. In a couple of years’ time maybe, when she had a little more money saved, a bit of the mortgage paid off, and she was farther up the corporate ladder. The last time she and Robert had talked about children, she’d suggested in about two years’ time. . . .

“I don’t know. I guess I’m scared,” she admitted finally in a whisper. “I’m scared, Izzie. What am I going to do?”

“First you’re going to confirm that you are pregnant. You need to get a pregnancy test.”

“I know, but if I am, what am I going to do? Do I tell Robert? Or do I leave him out of the picture completely?”

“You absolutely involve him! You tell that asshole.”

“Izzie!”

“Jesus, Stephanie.” Izzie’s voice was loud, and her sentences were clipped with anger. “You tell him that you expect him to pay. Get some legal papers drawn up and, if he resists, slap a paternity suit on him.”

“I know. I know. You’re right. When should I tell him?”

Stephanie could almost feel Izzie smile. “Well, if it were me, I’d be on the phone to him right now, ruining his Christmas. He’s certainly ruined yours.”

It was the answer Stephanie had been looking for.