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your love. If this were me, Pamela would have said something like, ‘When one door closes, a big window opens.’ This baby is a gift, and you’re going to be all right. More than all right.” She gave me a squeeze, then added, “This baby’s going to get all the love it deserves and much more. From you. From me. From all of us! Now come on, this is a new and exciting time in your life, Robin. It might seem rather daunting right now, but I say we get the crappy stuff out of the way and make the most of the best parts.”
    She fetched our cell phones, leapt off the sofa, and grabbed a fresh glass of water for me. “Drink up and I’ll call Brandon for you.”
    “Seriously?”
    “Dead serious.”
    “What about our plan?” I wiped the water from my lips. “We can’t just call him! A plan, Sophie. A plan!”
    “Look, he didn’t have a plan when he knocked you up. Pamela certainly didn’t plan for a short life. Neither of us planned you’d become preggers…screw plans; I’m calling Brandon now. More waiting like this and neither of us will have the nerve to tell him.”
    She hit the call button to Brandon’s number on her phone, and I held my breath. Would he answer? Would he honestly pick up the phone from the all-too-familiar number of his ex-girlfriend? No way!
    Sophie hung up. “Voicemail.”
    I picked up my cell phone and said, “Give me the number. I’ll call him. Maybe he’ll pick up from a different number.” I don’t know where I found the courage but I started dialing and then—
    Ringing. More ringing. And finally voicemail.
    “Voicemail,” I mouthed to Sophie, just as the operator signaled for the beep.
    I hesitated for a brief moment, then from somewhere foreign the words came spewing forth: “Hey, Brandon. It’s Robin here. I know you’re thinking—why am I calling? There’s something I need to speak with you about. It’s, well, kind of serious and we should talk.” I gave him my number before hanging up, staying calm, cool, collected throughout the entire message, save for my shaking feet.
    “I did it!” I shouted. “I called him!” Sophie looked bewildered. “I did it, and it feels great!”
    The problem was, of course, the impending return call. Or worse, if I had to call him back. I may have gathered up the nerve to call him once, prepared to share the news, but actually telling him the news was going to be an entirely different story.

Chapter Three

    It was Thursday morning. Girls’ night was planned for that evening, I had already made quite a deal of progress on the mystery novel cover, and there was still no word from Brandon. The anticipation of his return call, or my imminent second attempt at reaching him, was killing me. I hated playing the waiting game, and more than once the day before I’d considered calling him again. Maybe this time he’ll pick up, I kept thinking. But I chickened out each time.
    As if that anticipation wasn’t painful enough, my caffeine withdrawal was starting up. I wasn’t the most chipper of characters around the office, and I felt I could fall asleep at the drop of a hat. The decaf tea Sophie had picked up, which I brought in to work with me the very next day, tasted all right, but it lacked the whole caffeine factor, which was practically the sole reason I ever drank tea or coffee.
    Bobby offered me a mug of my long-lost morning beverage, and it pained me to turn it down. Not only because I was craving it, but because I was worried it would sound off pregnancy alarm bells. I knew that at some point I’d have to make it clear at work that I was pregnant and would even— gulp —eventually need to take some maternity time off. But I wanted to delay the inevitable for as long as humanly possible. Maybe when my water broke…
    On my way home from work that night I decided to swing by Chester Grey’s Art Supply shop. I needed a release from all of the stress, and my initial stalling on the mystery novel cover could probably have been