Page 23 of Hitched at Randy’s (Diner Days)
Cam
Five Months Later
I roll over onto my side, trying to get comfortable, but the movement just makes my stomach roll. I lean over the bed, throwing my legs over the side and rushing to the bathroom. Vomit is racing up my throat just as I make it to the bathroom. Suddenly Evan is there rubbing my back as if by magic. I didn’t even hear him get out of bed. “I’m starting to think this isn’t food poisoning,” he tells me.
I swore it was just the sushi we had for lunch a few days ago when I puked after dinner, but it’s been a few days of puking at this point. I wipe my mouth clean, sitting back on my heels as I try not to think about how my stomach feels. “What else would it be?” I groan, rising to my feet.
“Wasn’t it a few weeks ago that we …” Evan trails off, but I get what he’s trying to say.
Usually, penetrative sex is a big no for me and triggers my dysphoria, but there’s been a couple of times with Evan. “You don’t think?” I ask. My doctor told me my chances of getting pregnant on T were low, but since I’m not on birth control, it’s not completely out of the question.
“Probably wouldn’t hurt to take a test. Just in case.” Evan wraps his arm around my waist, leading me back to bed. “You want me to run to the store and get a test? If nothing else, we can rule that out as a possibility.”
“You don’t mind? I mean, I could get dressed and come with you.”
Evan sets his hand on my thigh, keeping me on the bed. “You’re not feeling well, Cam. Stay in bed and try to get some rest. I’ll be right back. Anything else you want me to get while I’m out?”
“Can you pick up some ginger ale?”
He leans in and places a kiss on my forehead. “Of course, try to relax, k?” It takes a matter of minutes for Evan to get dressed and out the door, but once I’m left alone in bed, I’m fighting the urge to get up. Now that I’m thinking about the reality of this being a possibility, I can’t just lie in bed and do nothing. Getting out of bed, I put on my glasses and head for the stairs, making my way to the living room on the first floor. We moved into our new house a few months ago, but it still feels so weird. We’ve fully unpacked, but I’m still figuring out where everything is.
I walk over to Donnie’s tank and add new food to his bowl. He scurries over to it immediately, gobbling up the little pellets. I’m not feeling up to eating, but I get myself a cup of tea, hoping it will help my stomach. By the time Evan opens the door again, I’m sitting on the couch sipping my tea and watching a show where they try to trick the judge with hyper realistic cakes. Part of me is anxious, wanting to take the test immediately and find out, but part of me is dreading it, not knowing what I want the result to be. In the end, I stay seated, letting Evan come over to sit next to me. He hands me the bag and doesn’t say a word as he turns his attention to the show.
I wait for the episode to end before I work up the courage. Evan stays on the couch, letting me go to the bathroom on my own, and I’m glad he’s not making a big deal out of this. After all, it’s not like we planned for any of this. I quickly skim the directions, take the test, then lay it on the counter, waiting for it to process.
The first line shows up within minutes, a solid pink line next to the T followed by the control line. “Evan!” I scream. Opening the door, I find him waiting there. “We’re having a baby.” I throw my arms around his neck, and Evan answers by pressing his lips to mine.
The End