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You’re too Sweet| Part 3
The sauce boils over as I sat at the kitchen table staring at the one wedding photo on the wall. About two in the morning, I take the frame off the wall, bring it outside, and run over it with the lawnmower.
A week later, I’m on the couch, recovering from food poisoning. I throw up multiple times before calling Becky. She comes over to try to soothe me, bringing me saltines and sparkling water. Becky calls the restaurants I had been to in the past week to ask about other food poisonings but comes up empty-handed.
Lying on the couch with a cool washcloth on my forehead, Becky rubs my feet. We discuss movies, one of my favorite subjects, when she asked, “When was your last period?”
“Um. Well, I think should have got it four days ago.”
“Four days ago.”
“Yeah, it’s the seventh right? I should have got it about the third. I must be late.”
“Four days ago.”
I laugh, “Are you broken? Why do you keep-“ I gasp.
“We have to go to the drug store!” Becky barks as she throws my feet off the couch.
She runs to get my shoes and twenty minutes later we sit on the floor of the drug store bathroom, both staring relentlessly at the pregnancy test. As the lines began to form, I throw up again. I flash into a stall and…
