Fault

Abby rocked on the covered toilet seat lid and stared at the plastic stick in her hand. It was Maggie's fault. Of course it was. In all the mess of the summer weeks...in the midst of the melee of mood swings... she'd forgotten to refill her birth control pills. Forgotten them all together. For months. She hadn't worried about it too much. She and Richard had hardly had the time to do anything in a while. Until September...when Maggie left. Until Mackinaw. Oh geez. It was then.

Abby searched frantically for the little calender she kept in the bathroom drawer with her tampons. She found it and her cheeks burned as she opened it to September and then counted the weeks. Four...five...six...seven...eight...how could she have been so stupid? Her breasts had been tender for days...no...weeks. Nine...ten. She was nine weeks for sure...maybe ten. She closed her eyes and shook her head because she had seen enough ultra sounds at work to know what the baby looked like right now. Damn. No wonder she'd been so nauseated at Thanksgiving dinner. She'd thought that it was brought on by Maggie's little 'episode' about the oysters Jacqueline had included in the turkey dressing. So had Richard. He had known that including her mother in a celebration with his family would be disastrous. His mother hadn't listened.

Richard. Shit.

How was he going to take this? It was too soon. A baby hardly fit in the plans he had for them. Practice...house...boat...baby. She knew the mantra. He'd recited it often enough in the last four...almost five... years. He was going to be furious.

She looked up in a panic as there was a soft rapping on the bathroom door.

"You okay in there?" he asked. Abby bit her lip.

"Uh...yeah," she answered. "I'll be right out." She stuffed the pregnancy test back into it's box and then back into the bag she'd carried it from the hospital in. She put the bag at the very bottom of the trash can and covered it with the trash it already held. She shook her head and stood up at the sink. She turned on the cold water faucet and filled her cupped hands with water. She splashed it carefully on her face and then reached for a towel. She wiped her face and then gazed for a long moment at her reflection in the mirror. She shook her head and sighed heavily. Shit.

He was setting the dinner table with plates and silverware when she made her way out of the bathroom. There were take out containers on the counter and smell of Chinese suddenly hit her like a brick wall. She held up her hand and then hurried back into the bathroom. She shut the door and quickly raised the toilet seat she'd been sitting on just moments before. He didn't wait for her this time. He opened the door and leaned against the door jamb watching as she wretched again and again, losing the contents of her stomach into the toilet. Abby tore off a length of toilet paper and wiped her mouth. She glance up at him as she tossed it into the toilet and flushed.

"You're not pregnant, are you?" he asked as she stood up. Abby snorted.

"No...of course not," she said as she looked away. "It's just a touch of the flu." Richard gazed at her thoughtfully for a long moment.

"Good," he said as he turned and left her standing alone in the bathroom. Abby shook her head.

Shit.