Eve - Iris Johansen [35]
Eve wished she’d stop comparing her to her roommate. Maybe she wasn’t in the same condition. Maybe Teresa was wrong.
But she had the panicky feeling that she was right.
* * *
SANDRA CAME HOME THREE HOURS after Eve arrived at the apartment.
“Eve?” She frowned as she peered into the dimness. “What are you doing home? And, why are you sitting in the dark, honey?”
“I don’t feel well.” She felt like an animal with a mortal wound huddled in a cave, not able to face the light. “Go to bed, Sandra.”
“Maybe I could get you something? Need an aspirin?”
“No, it’s my stomach. Go to bed.”
“Okay, you be sure and call me if you need anything.” Sandra drifted toward the bedroom. “It must be bad. I can’t remember the last time you missed work.”
“It’s bad.” Terrible. The worst thing that could have happened to her.
Then Sandra was gone, disappearing into her pretty pink bedroom.
Relief. Eve didn’t know if she could have contended with Sandra tonight. She was alternating between the shakes and that terrible nausea. And the realization of what a terrible, irresponsible fool she had been. That’s right, reach out and grab what you want. Forget all your plans for making something of yourself, a few weeks of sex were worth anything, weren’t they? Oh, Lord, how could she have run the risk?
And she was sick again.
She jumped to her feet and ran into the bathroom and retched. She no longer had anything in her stomach, and it made it all the more painful.
“Here, honey.” Sandra was handing her a cloth. “Rinse out your mouth and wash your face. You’ll feel better.” She turned. “I’ll get you a soda. Sometimes it helps.”
It seemed she was being forced to accept help from another unlikely source. First, Teresa. Now, Sandra. “I can get it.”
“I know you can. But let me do it.”
What had gotten into Sandra? The last thing Eve wanted was to have Sandra fussing over her.
She’d get bored soon. Just drink the soda, and she’d go away. Eve washed her mouth and face and went back into the living room.
“Sit down,” Sandra said as she handed her the can of soda. “Drink it slow, honey.”
“You can go to bed now, Sandra.”
“I know I can. I could leave you alone.” Sandra sat down. “But I don’t want to do that.” She folded her hands nervously on her lap. “Maybe I leave you alone too much. But you never seem to need me. Even when you were little, you were so strong, stronger than me.” She paused. “I’m not a good mother to you, Eve. My folks kicked me out when I got pregnant, and having a kid was just too much for me.”
“It’s all right. I never did need you. I could take care of myself.”
“But can you do it now? I remember how I felt when—” She drew a deep breath and her hands clasped even tighter. “You’re going to have a baby, aren’t you?”
Shock. She had not expected Sandra to be observant enough to jump to that conclusion. “Why do you think that?”
“You’re sick. You’re never sick.” She paused. “And last week I noticed one of my birth-control discs was missing. You took it, didn’t you?”
She nodded slowly.
“That was my prescription, Eve. It might not have been strong enough for you. Or maybe it won’t work unless you take it for a couple weeks first. I’ve been on them so long that I don’t remember. If you’d come and asked me, I’d have told you it might not work well for you.”
But she would never have gone to Sandra. Dear God, she had thought by not trusting John, she was protecting herself in the best possible way. Eve closed her eyes, and whispered, “You’ve been taking them all these years. I thought I’d be safe.”
“Are you going to have a baby, Eve?” Sandra repeated.
Eve wanted to deny it. She wanted to deny it to Sandra and herself and the whole world. But she had to accept it, deal with it. She couldn’t hide in the dark forever. She said jerkily, “Yes, I … think so.”
“Oh, honey.” Tears were glittering in Sandra’s eyes. “I was hoping I was wrong. That handsome young man who helped me?”
“Yes.”
“How does he feel about it? Does he want to marry you?”
“Marry? He doesn’t care for me that