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Authors: Jennifer Comeaux

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BOOK: Fighting for the Edge
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“My stomach felt weird when I woke up, and I thought I was just hungry, but when I smelled my mom’s cabbage cooking, I almost hurled.”

“You look forward to eating that every New Year’s Day.”

“I know. The smell has never bothered me.”

“I hope you don’t have some kind of bug.”

“I got the flu shot,” I said, still fanning.

“That doesn’t protect you from everything. Why don’t you lie down and I’ll get you some crackers and soda.”

I settled back against the pillows and closed my eyes. When Sergei returned, Mom’s voice carried behind him.

“Sweetie, you’re sick?” She came over to the bed and put her hand on my forehead. The cabbage odor had travelled with her, and I started sweating again.

“The smell,” I said, clamping my hand over my nose and scooting to the other side of the bed.

“You must be feeling really bad if it bothers you that much,” she said.

“Can you give her some space?” Sergei stood tall over my petite mother.

She looked at me with knitted brows and then went toward the door. “I can make you some soup or mashed potatoes later. Something light.”

“Thank you, that would be good.” Sergei herded her out the door.

I got comfortable again, and Sergei put the can of ginger ale on the nightstand and handed me the box of crackers. “Try to eat a few.”

I dug into the box and took a nibble on one of the saltines. “You can go take your shower. I’ll be okay.”

“You sure?” He rubbed my leg.

I nodded as I chewed slowly. And I did feel better the more I ate. By the time Sergei finished showering, my stomach had settled. I got dressed and made my second attempt to go downstairs, but as soon as the cabbage smell hit me again, I had to do another about-face.

Sergei followed me into the bedroom. “You feel sick again?”

“It’s almost making me gag.”

He stroked my hair and then my back. “We’ll just take it easy up here then.”

We watched TV, or rather Sergei watched and I dozed in and out, until lunchtime. He brought me a bowl of mashed potatoes Mom had whipped up, and I insisted he go down and enjoy the holiday spread she’d prepared.

I felt fine after eating the entire bowl of potatoes, so I told Sergei not to worry about leaving me. He had to pick up Liza from her sleepover, and she wanted to skate for an hour or two since she was going back to New York the next day. He kissed my forehead on his way out, and I curled up on the window seat with my book.

I read for a while but then started thinking about my stomach issues. I hadn’t gotten my period yet that month, but I was often late due to the stress and strain I put on my body every day. Maybe I had some hormonal thing going on that had made me feel sick.

I got up and looked in my purse for my calendar. Flipping to December, I counted the days. My finger froze on the page.

Eight days late already? It didn’t seem like it had been that long. I counted again.

Still eight.

My heart began to thump with worried beats. That was
really
late.
But I’m on
the pill, and we always use extra protection.

Except…

My eyes zeroed in on Friday, December ninth, the night of the nor’easter. The night we’d played strip poker and there’d been a lot of wine and a lot of intense passion. But not a lot of caution.

No, it’s too improbable. It was just one night. And I’m ON THE PILL.

I went to my laptop on the desk and clicked on the search engine. My fingers shook while typing –
odds of getting pregnant while on birth control pill.

Millions of hits popped up. I clicked on a string of them and read.

Pill is ninety-nine percent effective when used properly.

If taken correctly, chance of getting pregnant is
less than
one percent per year.

I read on an on, and every site spouted the same statistics. I rubbed my temples as I thought about the past month and whether I’d done anything that could’ve made the pill ineffective. Nothing came to me. Could I possibly be in that miniscule percentage?

Sergei opened the door, and I quickly closed the web browser. “You’re back early.”

“We were at the rink and Liza went to use the restroom, and when she came out she said she didn’t feel good and wanted to come home. She might have a bug, too. She barely said two words in the car.”

A wave of relief washed over me. If Liza was sick, there was a good chance I had the same thing. I knew the odds of me being pregnant were too small.

“I’ll go check on her,” I said.

I knocked on Liza’s door and peeked inside when she didn’t answer. She was lying on the bed with her back to me, facing the window. I sat on the bed and touched her shoulder.

“Hey, sweetie, you’re not feeling good?”

She was hugging one of the pillows, and she curled her arms tighter around it. “I think I got my period,” she mumbled.

Oh, man
. I wasn’t ready for that talk yet. If we should even have that talk. I didn’t know what Elena had told her, if anything.

“Has your mom talked to you about it?” I asked.

“Not really. Hope got hers already so she tells me all about it.”

Being educated by another eleven-year-old… not the best scenario.

“I’ll go to my room and get you some supplies, okay?” I said. “I’ll be right back.”

When I stepped into the hall, an unfortunate realization hit me. Liza wasn’t sick, so maybe I wasn’t either. The percentages flashed through my mind.

I continued forward to my bedroom, and Sergei looked up when I entered. “I wonder if Liza has what you have,” he said.

I
WISH
I had what she has.

“She doesn’t have a bug,” I said. “She got her first period.”

Sergei’s mouth hung open as he seemed to be digesting the news. “Oh. Is she okay?”

“I think so. I came to get some stuff for her.” I motioned to the bathroom.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Should I go talk to her?”

“Give her a little time. Even though you’re an incredibly cool dad, it’s probably still mortifying for her to think about discussing it with you.”

“You’re probably right.” His hand moved from his neck to his face. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“It’s best not to say too much. I’ll never forget when I got mine at the rink and I had to call my dad to pick me up. I just wanted to crawl into a hole.”

I returned to Liza with the personal items she needed, and she slowly opened up with questions, the same I remembered having when I’d been her age.

“Is my body gonna change really quickly?” she asked. “I’ve heard some of the girls at the rink say it can mess up your jumps.”

“You’ll start feeling some changes, but everyone goes through it at a different rate. If something starts to feel off, be sure to talk to your coach and she can help you. And your dad can help, too. He’s been through this with a lot of students.”

She cringed. “I don’t really wanna talk to him about this.”

“It’s embarrassing, I know.” I smoothed her long ponytail. “But he’s a great listener, so just know he’s always there if you need him.”

“My mom is going to make this into so much drama.” She groaned.

Elena and drama? Shocking!

“Do you want me to call her and let her know what’s going on or do you want to tell her when you get home?” I hoped she’d choose the latter.

She looked up at me with her big blue eyes. “Can you call?”

I could never say no to the kid when she gave me that wide-eyed gaze. She and Sergei had some magical powers in those magnificent baby blues.

Liza said she was tired, so I kissed her head and started for the door. As I was leaving, she asked, “Am I gonna get PMS?”

I laughed. “What do you know about PMS?”

“Hope says her big sister gets it and it makes her mean.”

I shook my head. “You don’t need to worry about that too much right now.” I went over to the bed and gave her a tight squeeze. “And you’re too sweet to ever be mean.”

Sergei was gone from our room, so I took the quiet opportunity to call Elena. With bigger issues on my mind, I wasn’t in the mood for her drama, so I hoped she wouldn’t go all overbearing-mother on me.

After exchanging pleasantries, I told her the news, and she gasped. “So soon? I am much older when I have my first.”

“Well, she’s almost twelve. She’s about the average age.”

“Is she scared? Is her stomach hurting? I can leave now to get her.” Rustling ensued in the background.

“She’s fine. There’s no reason to come get her early.”

“She should be with her mother,” she snapped.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. Elena was never going to stop playing that card. Most instances I didn’t fight back because the headache wasn’t worth it, but I couldn’t hold my tongue this time.

“Sergei and I are her parents, too, and we’re taking care of her just fine. I understand you want her with you, but she doesn’t want this to be a big deal. So, we shouldn’t smother her right now.”

“I do not smother. I just want my daughter home.”

You don’t know who you’re talking to. I am an expert on smothering mothers.

“She’ll be home tomorrow,” I said. “I’ll tell her to call you tonight.”

Having convinced Elena not to jump into her car, I tossed my phone onto the bed and stretched out on the comforter. My hands went to my abdomen, and I said a prayer that my body would return to normal very, very soon.

Less than one percent.

No way could I be pregnant. Nope. Not happening. Not now.

Chapter Thirteen

 

“Work it!” Chris shouted as Aubrey and Nick samba danced their way past him in their third run-through of the day.

Aubrey flashed him a smile while her skates moved furiously across the ice, keeping time with the fast beat of the music.

Nick swung her up onto his shoulders, and she locked into a full laid-out position as he spun around and around for their rotational lift. After the final turn he deftly set her down, and they finished the program nose-to-nose, breathing heavily in synch.

“Best one yet,” Nick said after a deep exhale.

They skated along the boards to cool down, and Aubrey wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. “I think the holiday yesterday recharged me. I slept until two in the afternoon.”

“Was that because you and Chris were up late continuing your New Year’s Eve celebration?” Nick asked with a knowing smile.

“What are you talking about?”

“When I saw you on the terrace, the sexual tension between you two was so thick I needed an axe to cut through it. No way did you not go home and get busy.”

The image of Chris ripping off his shirt popped into her head, and she took a long swallow. “We did not
get busy
. We’re friends.”

He hummed quietly as he gave her a sideways look. “I have a good sense for these things.”

He also had a gossipy mouth, and she didn’t want her private business circulating around the rink.

“I think your sense is on the fritz,” she said and skated ahead of him.

With the end of the session near, she hopped off the ice and changed into sneakers for her workout in the gym. Em did the same next to her on the bleachers and then leaned in close.

“Can you come outside with me a minute?” she asked.

Em had been very quiet when she’d arrived at the rink that morning. All she’d said about her holiday was that she’d been sick. She still looked a little pale.

“What’s up?” Aubrey asked as they walked out into the gray afternoon.

Em zipped her blue warm-up jacket up to her chin and glanced around the quiet parking lot. “Can I ask you a favor?”

“Sure.” She watched Em continue to look around nervously. “What do you need?”

“I need you to buy a pregnancy test for me.”

Aubrey’s jaw stuck open. “A what?”

“A pregnancy test,” Em said in a hushed voice.

“You think you’re pregnant?”

“I’m over a week late. I’m on the pill, but it’s not a hundred percent foolproof, and we usually use extra protection, but we didn’t the night of the storm, and I’m scared to death that I’m somehow in the crazy less than one percent that can end up pregnant.”

Em’s frantic breath created icy puffs through the air. Aubrey stood motionless, trying to process the ramble of information she’d just received.

“Okay.” She grasped Em’s shoulders and took a moment to collect her thoughts. “We’re not going to freak out because the odds are very slim, right?”

Em nodded slowly.

“We’ll get the test, and this could all be a false alarm.” She squeezed Em’s shoulders before letting her go. “I just have one question. Why do you need me to buy it for you?”

“Because your face isn’t on a Coca-Cola billboard on the Mass Pike. I don’t want anyone that might recognize me to see me with the test.”

“Good point.”

“I don’t want Sergei to know about this either unless I really am…” She pressed her hands to her face, and her eyes watered with distress.

Aubrey saw Em was close to breaking down, so she put her arms around her and tried to sound as optimistic as she could. “Remember – it’s still very unlikely.”

“I know, but I’ve been having symptoms.”

Aubrey stepped back. “Do you want me to go get the test now? I can work out later.”

“No, let’s stick to our normal schedule and then we can go to my house.”

They spent the next hour in the gym, where Aubrey watched Em from the bike across from hers. If Em had gotten pregnant the night of the storm, she’d be two months along at the Olympics. She wouldn’t even be showing, but was it possible to compete at their level while in the early stages of pregnancy? There’d been professional skaters who’d performed in shows until they were three or four months along, but shows were nothing compared to the daily grind of competitive skating. If Em couldn’t skate...

Aubrey’s feet slowed on the pedals. She didn’t want to even let that thought enter her mind.

When they left the rink, Aubrey made a quick stop at the drugstore and then met Em at her parents’ house. Her dad poked his head out of his office as they passed through the foyer.

BOOK: Fighting for the Edge
5.52Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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