Reagan's Revenge and Ending Emily's Engagement by Tammy Falkner Page B

at me. “Have you told him yet?”
    I play with my straw. “Told him what?” I mutter. I avoid her eyes, because I think she sees too much.
    “When my mom was pregnant with Link, all her favorite foods made her want to throw up.” She makes an imaginary heave, and my stomach churns at just the sound of it. I have woken up nauseated every day this week.
    “Don’t make that sound,” I warn and burp into my fist.
    She holds up her hands like she’s surrendering. But then she sobers. “How do you think Logan will feel about it if you’re pregnant?”
    Logan would be ecstatic. It’s me who has the problem with it. “He’d be okay,” I say, my voice small.
    She reaches out and covers my hand with hers. “Why are you worried?” she asks.
    Tears fill my eyes and I blink them back. “What if our baby ends up like me?” I ask quietly. “I’m terrified of that happening.”
    I know Pete has told Reagan about my dyslexia , but she and I have never really discussed it.  “Your disability doesn’t define you. It’s just a part of you, like your eye color or your hair color. It’s part of you, just like my brother’s autism is a part of him. You’re a person first. And I know that you’re worried, but if you think about it, I know a lot of people who would be devastated if anything happened to you. Your life has value and meaning, and it’s not despite your disability. It’s because you exist.”
    Goodness. I’ve never heard anyone say it like that before. What a powerful tirade she just made.  “Thanks,” I say quietly.
    “Have you taken a test yet?” she asks, and she grins.
    I shake my head. “I was too afraid.”
    She squeezes my hand again. “Let’s go and get one.”
    I shake my head.
    “If you’d rather do it with Logan,” she starts.
    I nod. I’d rather do it with Logan. I need to tell him. Right away. But now I feel like I can. “Don’t tell Pete, okay? Not until after I tell Logan.”
    She nods. “Can you tell him soon? I don’t like keeping secrets from Pete. Not even yours.” She smiles.
    I can. I will. “Okay.” I smile, because I’m suddenly hopeful and the idea that there might be a life growing inside me that Logan and I created together takes root.
     
     

Logan
     
    Something is up with Emily. She hasn’t told me what it is, but something is definitely wrong. I’ll figure it out. I know I will.
    I pop the trunk on Emily’s car and take the groceries up to Paul’s apartment. Four flights of stairs carrying a turkey and a ham and all the rest is kind of brutal. I’m glad Pete’s with me. But after that, I wish he wasn’t.
    We unload all the groceries, and since Sam is here, he organizes everything according to the way he’ll use it. He and Pete fight, shoving one another around until I get so sick of it that I can’t stand it. I turn to Paul. Can I talk to you for a minute, privately ? I sign.
    He motions for me to follow him to his room. He closes the door , and I sit on the edge of his bed. He takes the chair across from me and glares at me. “Spill it,” he bites out.
    Paul signs and talks at the same time, so I do , too.  “Something is wrong with Em,” I say.
    His brow furrows. “What kind of wrong?”
    I get up, suddenly feeling like I have ants in my pants. I walk over to his dresser and run my finger down a picture of our mother that’s in a gold frame. It’s rough and bumpy, but her face is smooth when I touch the glass. Paul taps my shoulder so I turn to face him.
    “You’re really worrying me. What’s wrong?”
    “When Kelly was pregnant,” I start. I swallow hard, because I need to in order to get past the lump in my throat. “When Kelly was pregnant,” I say again. “What was she like?”
    I watch his hands, afraid to look into his face because I might accidentally look into his eyes.
    “Is Emily pregnant?” he asks. His hands are flying furiously all of a sudden. “What the fuck, Logan?” he says. “What did I tell you about using