Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 123(@200wpm)___ 99(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 123(@200wpm)___ 99(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
“Sunshine!” Mack's voice bellows through the house. I sweep the test and the box into a cabinet drawer and slam it closed. “I told your little ass to stay in bed.” He comes around the corner into my bedroom. He stops when he sees me standing inside my bathroom with the door open. “Are you throwing up again?” I shake my head no. “Why are you dressed?” His eyes run up and down me. I’d thrown on an oversized sweater and yoga pants, but I also have my sneakers on. “You go somewhere?”
“I feel fine,” I say to avoid his question, not wanting to lie to him. “That nap did the trick.” I force a smile.
“You sure?”
“Yep, all better.”
“Good, you can go to dinner with me. Mom says I haven't been coming around enough.” Shit.
“I should probably check my emails, and I passed out before I graded the tests from the other day. I need to get that done.”
“I already did them for you. Even entered them into the system.”
“Oh, you’re too good to me.”
“Then come to dinner. You love Mom’s cooking.” I open my mouth to give another lame excuse, but he beats me. “Please.”
“Okay, let me change.”
“You’re fine. You always look hot.” My heart gives a flutter. He thinks I’m hot? My alarm on my phone starts to go off, jerking me back to reality. I grab it, turning it off.
“Got an appointment?”
“No, just a reminder. Give me five and I’ll be ready.”
“All right.” His eyes search my face for a long moment before he finally steps back and leaves the bedroom. The second he’s gone, I spin around and jerk the drawer open. The test stares up at me. There is one word on the tiny screen.
Pregnant.
7
MACK
Sunny’s acting weird, but she doesn’t want to open up to me, so I’m not going to push it. Sort of feel like I’m on edge around her these days, which pisses me off. We never used to be like this, and I don’t know why things have changed now. It makes me uneasy. Taking her home is a twofer for me. First, it will get my parents off my neck but second, Mom can sometimes get things out of Sunny that I can’t. My parents have been standing in as parents for Sunny ever since her folks passed away years ago.
“We’re here,” I holler as I gently push Sunny over the threshold. She takes a deep breath and pats her stomach as if she’s got a sudden onset of nerves. Like I said, weird.
“You okay?” I question quietly. “Your tummy upset?”
Her eyes shoot down to where her palm is resting and then quickly up to me. Something like guilt suffuses her face, and her hand drops away right quick. “N-no. Why would you ask that?”
I narrow my gaze. “You’re sick, aren’t you?” I press a hand to her forehead. She feels sort of warm, and she looks flushed. “Mom, I’m taking Sunny back home. I think she caught a flu bug. Maybe COVID.”
Sunny knocks my hand away. “I’m not sick.”
“Let me get a rapid test.” Mom comes bustling out of the kitchen, a frilly green apron decorated with apples. “Your dad picked up two more at the pharmacy the other day when he was getting his blood pressure medication. You can never have too many.”
She catches Sunny’s wrist and leads her over to the sofa in the living room. “Sit. You”—she points at me—“go get a test. There are some in the guest bathroom.”
“No, I’m really sure it’s not the flu or COVID,” I hear Sunny faintly protest.
“You never know. Besides, we have so many tests now. Richard can’t seem to stop buying them, and since I’m healthy as a horse, the stockpile is not decreasing. You’re going to make him feel so good by taking one. Trust me.”
“What’s going on?” Dad booms. I grab a test from the medicine chest where, as Mom had been saying, there was a stockpile.
“Sunny might have COVID,” calls Mom. “Mack is bringing a test.”
“I told you we would need those,” Dad declares. He folds his arms across his chest and watches smugly as Sunny obediently sticks the swab up her nose. Her eyes water, and she coughs slightly as she hands over the swab to Mom, who runs it over the testing unit.
“You lose your sense of smell or taste?” Dad wants to know.
“She threw up,” I volunteer.
Sunny glares at me as if I gave away a secret that only the two of us should know about.
“That’s probably the regular flu,” Dad surmises.
“She’s negative!” Mom holds up the test triumphantly.
“Great.” I clap my hands together. “You have a flu test for her?”
“She doesn’t feel feverish. Maybe you ate something you didn’t agree with?”
Sunny grabs on to that. “Yes. I think that’s what it was.”