A Life More Complete(86)

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that,” she says widening her eyes a bit.

“Shit, maybe I should wait to tell her.”

“Don’t be such a chicken. She’s a pain in the ass.” She waves a dismissive hand at me.

“That’s it? You don’t have better advice?”

“No,” she says grinning.

“Sometimes you’re impossible.”

“But you love me,” Melinda says confidently.

“Right now I don’t.” I leave her office and hit up the lounge for any leftover donuts from this morning.

This is one of those times that I wish Bob still worked here. Normally when Melinda was her useless self I would thunder into Bob’s office next and unload my latest mishap on him. He was always more supportive than Melinda and maybe it was our mutual desire to someday fall hopelessly in love with the right guy and get married that bound us. Bob is my go-to when life gets ridiculous and I need someone to talk me off the ledge. Bob was there when the heel broke off my shoe in the middle of a dinner party causing me to bust ass at the entrance to the restaurant in front of at least four clients. Chuckling, he cracked the heel off my other shoe and handed it back to me without missing a beat. When I chipped my tooth on beer bottle he made light of it and called me Lloyd Christmas for the rest of the week. He somehow managed to make my stupidity seem endearing all the while assuring me that he’d love me no matter what.

I flop into my desk chair and dial his number, twirling the cord around my finger as I debate the method I should use when informing Ellie.

“Bob,” I nearly scream into the phone when he answers.

“Krissy,” he replies back with just as much intensity. “What’s up, baby?”

“Oh shit! I have to tell Ellie I’m pregnant and I have no idea what to say. Well, I know what to say...”

“I figured you’d just wait it out until the Mexican and donuts excuse was played out and then drop the bomb.”

“Here I am not even twelve weeks and that excuse has reached its limit. I was hoping to go longer, but everyone in this effing office is so gossipy. Please just tell me what to say.”

“You can do this. Just tell her the truth. I know she hates kids, but she doesn’t hate you. Look how it turned out after you told Tyler? Good, right? Give Ellie that same courtesy. Whatever you do don’t bring your phone with you.”

“Why,” I ask all the while wrapping the phone cord around my finger so tightly it cuts off the blood to the tip turning it a ghastly pale color.

“Because you will check it obsessively making it look like the conversation is boring you and if you don’t check it, you’ll fumble around with it and more than likely drop it, in turn bumping your head on her desk as you bend to pick it up. Enough of a reason? Don’t get me wrong, I think you’re adorable, but Ellie will see it as weakness.”

I sigh deeply, “Creepy.” He knows me better than I even know myself.

“You may think I like Melinda better, but honestly, I love you more. Tyler is one lucky guy and baby nugget is even luckier that he or she gets you as their mom. Regardless of how it goes with Ellie, it doesn’t matter anymore. Take care of you and that baby.”

“Bob, I love you, too. This is just what I needed.” My nerves begin to settle and the nausea that had formed in the pit of my stomach begins to fade.

Noon rolls around lightning fast and my anxiety returns two fold. I mill around in my office for a few minutes repeating in my head to give Ellie the benefit of the doubt. I grab my phone off the desk as I’m leaving my office, but quickly recall Bob’s words and toss it back. I knock on her door and she calls to enter. Even without my phone, I still make an ass of myself by somehow getting the sleeve of my shirt stuck to the door handle. As I enter her office, my whole body is yanked backward with the door narrowly missing my face as my butt slams into the door jam. Classy.

“Sorry, Ellie,” I mumble as I take a seat across from her.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” she says with a small smile. “So, you called the meeting. What’s going on?”

Here, I find myself, once again with a fabulous monologue prepared in my head. I’m so composed and articulate. The perfect mix of seriousness and humor, but like my life, it just comes out all wrong. At least I’ve gotten it together enough that I’m not blubbering like a damn fool.

“I’m pregnant,” I say sheepishly, looking down at the industrial steel gray carpet and finally back up at Ellie. “Oh yeah, and I got married.”