“He’s a nice guy,” Margaret defends.
“Oh, we know,” I tell her with a laugh.
“Hair, Riley,” she mock scolds me, which causes Raven and me to dissolve into laughter. I have to stop letting the wand fall into the sink before I soak us both with water. I’m laughing so hard.
“Yes, ma’am,” I finally say when I’ve composed myself. “So just a trim,” I say to get us back on track.
“Yes. That’s good for today.”
“And next time, the highlights. I’m sure Officer Bennington will love them on you,” Raven taunts.
Margaret pulls open one eye, squinting at my sister, still sitting in her chair across the room. “Do you not have clients?” she huffs. There is no heat in her tone. She knows it’s all in good fun.
“So far he’s a no-show.”
“Oh, so we can talk about you then.” Margaret wiggles a little in the chair. “Have you heard from Clayton or Hudson?” Margaret asks. Her eyes are still closed, so she doesn’t see me flinch at the sound of his name. I just hope my sister wasn’t paying close enough attention to see it either.
“I got a letter from both of them the other day. I sent them both one the day after they left, and it took three weeks to get to them. I got mine yesterday, and they were dated for two weeks ago, so not so bad.”
“How are they?” Margaret asks.
I hang on to every word shared between the two of them. I even slow my shampoo and conditioning process and give Margaret a little longer massage of her scalp just so that I can listen to them.
“Good. They’re working a ton of hours. I guess they hiked to a waterfall that they both said was breathtaking. It sounds really beautiful where they are.”
“And how long are they going to be gone?”
“Hudson committed to a year, and Clayton two years.” There’s a small change in my sister’s tone, and I know she misses them both. She and Hudson have a special bond, and well, she and Clayton kind of do too. They have this weird “we’re into each other, but not doing anything about it” thing that they do. It’s confusing as well, but by this point, we’re all used to it. Hell, the entire town is used to it.
“Wow. That’s a long time.”
I keep my mouth shut, avoiding commenting on the conversation. My heart, though, it’s invested. I feel every minute of the six weeks that Hudson has been gone. I can still feel his hands on my body and his lips as they press against my own. The weight of the way I chose to leave things sits heavily on my chest. I acted immaturely. I should have faced him and let the cards fall where they may. I regret leaving like I did. I regret not waking up in his arms, and I regret not seeing him and hugging him close one final time before he left. Those are my burdens to carry. My choices that I have to live with.
I finish shampooing Margaret and place a towel over her head. “All set,” I tell her, and she stands and makes her way to my chair. “Looks like you have a no-show,” I comment to my sister, who is still twirling in her own chair at her station next to mine.
“Looks like it. I guess I’ll go in the back and start on inventory.” She makes no effort to move. Raven hates inventory. It’s not a hard job or tedious, but she’s always been one of those people who needs to be where the action is. She’d much rather be out here gossiping with us than in the back on her own.
“We can tag team it later,” I say, giving her an out.
“It is faster when we both do it,” she agrees. “Who wants another donut or a refill?” She holds up her now empty cup of coffee.
“Coffee for me,” Margaret speaks up.
“Riles?”
“I’m good on both. Thanks. Can you grab me a bottle of water from the fridge, though?”
“Sure. Ladies, I’ll be right back.” She stands from her chair and heads for the break room.
“Now, we’re trimming. Have you thought about some layers?” I ask, lifting the back of her thick hair. “I think it would lay really well and take off some of the weight of these curls.”
Margaret’s eyes meet mine in the mirror. I’m standing behind her running my fingers through her wet hair. “You know what? Let’s do it. I trust you.”
I open my mouth to reply to her, but before I can, Raven appears beside me with a steaming cup of coffee and a donut in her hand. The combination of the smell of both of them has me turning on my heels and racing for the bathroom. Smacking open the door, I rush to the toilet and drop to my knees in just barely enough time to lose the muffin I only had a few bites of this morning.
“Riles? Are you okay?” Raven asks from the doorway.
“I think I have the stomach bug. I felt off last night before bed and then again when I woke up. After a shower, I felt better, but it just hit me out of nowhere.”
“I’ll take care of Margaret since my first appointment no-showed. Do you need to cancel your day?”
“No. I’ll be fine. There’s nothing left in my stomach. I think I’ll walk across the street to the café and get me a Sprite or something.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. I’ll be fine. Thanks, though. Please tell Margaret I’m sorry.”
Raven waves me off. “You know she’s good with either of us. Whoever has room when she calls is who she sees. I’ll take care of Margaret. You take care of you.”
“Thank you.” She nods and leaves me to the porcelain gods. I sit on my knees in front of the toilet for a few more minutes just to make sure the queasiness has passed. Slowly, I stand and make my way to the door, where I shut and lock it. As soon as the lock clicks into place, the tears begin to fall.
I lied to my sister, something I feel like I’ve been doing a lot of lately. I couldn’t tell her what I think is wrong. No, correct that. What I’m almost certain is causing the sickness. Not without telling her about Hudson, and the idea of that alone causes an all-new wave of nausea to hit me.
How did I get here?
How did I let this happen?
We didn’t use protection. I was stone-cold sober that night, and I remember every single detail. From the smell of the alcohol on his breath to the way his touch branded my skin to the moment he slid inside me for the first time. All of it plays in my mind like a movie I’ve seen countless times. I remember thinking I was on the pill and that we would be okay. It was reckless and irresponsible, and now here I am.
I’m also late. Two weeks to be exact. For two weeks, I’ve carried this worry around with me. I was trying to blow it off as stress from missing Hudson, but the symptoms started Saturday morning, and they blow in and out like a tornado at all hours of the day. It’s not just nausea. I noticed in the shower my breasts were tender, and even though I knew what the symptoms meant, I asked Google anyway. Just in case there was some sort of disease that I wasn’t aware of.
No disease.
Just a baby.
I drove to Jessup and bought a pregnancy test. No, that’s not right either. I bought one of every brand of pregnancy test that the pharmacy had on the shelf. They’re currently sitting in the pharmacy bag underneath my bathroom sink. I’ve yet to use them, and even though I know that I should, I also know that I don’t need to. My gut tells me that my self-diagnosis is correct.