Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 60864 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60864 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Carefully stepping over the sleeping dog, I carried the food into the kitchen. I could hear Jodi in the bathroom rustling around for a moment, and then there was silence. She had, at some point, gone from the bathroom in my bedroom to the spare across the hall. I assumed she had some makeup or something in there she needed, but when she didn’t come out and the door remained shut, I shrugged and went back to the kitchen.
Cleaning up was never my favorite part of being a cook. It came with the territory though, and at least I was well beyond the stage of my career when I would work under another chef and need to do the cleanup for them. I promised myself early on I would never be that person. Having a dishwasher on staff was one thing, but the hazing of younger chefs and line cooks was unacceptable to me.
Cooking in my own kitchen meant that there was no way to shirk responsibility, even if I had wanted to. Instead, I usually waited until the last second, washed the dishes from breakfast if there were any, or tossed them into the dishwasher, then got dressed for work in a hurry. Figuring I would at least be ahead of things by doing it now, I went about saving the bacon grease, cleaning the pans out, and even pouring out the coffee for both me and Jodi. She liked it with cream and sugar, so I put some out for her in decanters I never used and sat down at the table to wait.
After another five minutes of waiting, I was starting to get worried about her. Maybe she had caught a bug or something and would need to call out. I was about to stand up, thinking I could make a bed on the couch for her in preparation, when the door creaked open. I looked up to see her walking out, her face ghost white.
Maybe she wasn’t sick. The thought ran through my mind like a freight train. Maybe she wasn’t sick but had something else on her mind. Like breaking up with me. Maybe last night had been too much, too soon. Or just too much in general. Of course, she would come to that conclusion right before I had the balls to finally tell her how I felt. Panic struck my spine, and I thought about all the things I would try to say to change her mind. Which one would I say first? Would I just outright tell her I was in love with her?
I opened my mouth, ready to let words come pouring out of my mouth. I wasn’t going to be choosy about which ones. Just whatever my heart decided I needed to say.
But no voice came out. My mind was suddenly hyper focused on what was in Jodi’s hand. She was holding it up at eye level as she stood feet away from me. Everything else blurred out, even Jodi herself. All I could see was the small, white pregnancy test in her hand. The blue LED screen was rather clear about what it said. In big, bold letters it said “pregnant.”
“Oh,” I mumbled. “Oh, shit.”
I winced. It wasn’t what I intended on saying, and certainly wasn’t the most sensitive thing to say at the moment. But it was the only thing that came to mind. Everything else in my vocabulary was gone, like someone had gone into my brain and used White-Out on the entire thing.
Jodi nodded, her lips pursed together in an expression I couldn’t quite read. She made her way to the table and sat across from me while I tried to find words. When none came, she cleared her throat, placing the test between us on the table.
“I, uh…” she began. “It’s yours, obviously. So…”
She stalled, clearly not able to think of anything else to say either. We were both at a complete loss. Our eyes slowly went from the test to each other, and for a moment we just stayed there, reading each other as best we could, helpless.
Finally, I stood, skirting the table to sit next to her, and I reached out for her hands. She let me take them willingly, which was a good sign, and I pulled her closer to me. She shifted in her seat so she faced me, and I took a deep breath. Whatever was going to come out of my mouth at that point was going to come straight from the heart. My brain had checked out.
“So, we should probably talk,” I said.
She nodded.
“That might be a decent idea at this point.”
“Look, the last few weeks have been incredible. I haven’t felt this way as long as I can remember, not with anyone, ever. Having you here with me, sharing my bed, sharing my clothes—” At that, her lip briefly curled up in something like a smile, and internally I breathed a sigh of relief. “—all of it. I have shared everything with you like we were a couple. I was going to talk about this with you before this…” I motioned to the test, sitting on the table, the LED screen having finally gone dark, but the word “Pregnant” no less bold.