Between the Sheets by Julie Prestsater Page B

for
answers, but I don’t have any. My breath hitches with a sob every
time I inhale. I feel like a little girl in my mom’s kitchen after
I’ve just skinned my knee. And then I start crying more as a memory
resurfaces of a time just like that. I wanted to learn how to ride
a skateboard so bad. I was determined and Ty was against it. He
said with my lack of coordination I’d just break my face. In fact,
he touched my cheek and said I’d break my “beautiful face.”
Instead, I tore up my knee and he carried me inside my house and
held my hand while my mom poured peroxide over the wound. I never
tried riding a skateboard again. But that memory clings to my heart
right now.
    My mom’s eyes brighten again and she
brushes the sign of the cross over her chest and forehead. “What is
it?” I ask her.
    “ Oh, mija.” Her own eyes
start to puddle. “You’re pregnant. I’m going to be a grandma.”
Thankfully, she envelops me in a huge bear hug or I’m sure I’d be a
pile of limp bones on the hardwood floors. “Come. Sit.”
    When I’m safely rested in my dad’s
La-Z Boy recliner, my mind starts to spin. “Mom, I can’t be
pregnant. There are no signs. At all. I’m fine. Just a little
emotional is all. I guess I miss Ty more than I
thought.”
    My mother sits on the
coffee table across from me, her elbows resting on her knees and
an I Love Lucy apron hanging between her legs. “Honey, I know it. You
are.”
    “ How do you know? What are
you gonna do? One of my abuelita’s old wives tales or something?”
If she starts getting red yarn, salt, or chili peppers, I’m gonna
bolt.
    “ No, I’m not going to do
anything to you. Just relax.” She reaches out and places her soft
callused hand on my bare knee. “Now, tell me. Have you been tired
lately?”
    “ Well, yeah.” But if she
knew what I’ve been doing for two weeks, she’d understand. I’m not
about to tell my mama that I’ve been having marathon sex with my
best friend’s brother.
    “ Do your chichis hurt? Are
they tender?”
    My hands shoot to my boobs. Huh. They
are. “Yeah.” Again. That could be due to the previously mentioned
marathon sex. Tyler has a way with his hands. And his teeth. God, I
have to squeeze my thighs together just thinking about his
talent.
    “ Now, when was the last
time you had your period?”
    Shit. Why does she look all happy?
Like she’s thrilled her only daughter is knocked up out of wedlock.
I’m surprised she’s not praying or something.
    My thoughts flash through any memory I
have of tampons and panty liners. I seriously can’t remember the
last time I needed them. I haven’t had to buy some since I
discovered you can buy a vibrator at the local drugstore. Imagine
that. I’ll take this box of pads, the vibrator, some lube, and
throw in this cockring for my special loved one. Crazy. I couldn’t
believe it. I took several pictures of the feminine product aisle
and sent them to Shel. She texted back and said she knew where to
shop for my birthday.
    “ Oh shit, Mom.” Suddenly, I
feel like it’s a thousand degrees. I can feel the moisture in my
pits and the backs of my thighs.
    “ When?” she
asks.
    “ Just before my birthday.”
Holy fuck.
    “ Your birthday? That was in
March. How could you not know you were pregnant this whole time?
It’s been months.”
    I lean forward, placing my head in my
hands. “I don’t have my period every month. And when I do, it’s
really light. I’ve been a runner since high school. That’s like
birth control in itself.”
    “ Not a hundred percent,
obviously.” She sits up, crosses her arms over her chest and gives
me a knowing smirk.
    “ It’s not like we didn’t
use anything else.” And we did. Ty has a knack for slapping on a
condom in a split second without killing the mood, kinda like a
relay runner grabbing the baton in stride. Although, I can’t say I
haven’t wished for some bareback skin-to-skin contact, but I know
better. “Hey, this isn’t a sure