The Honeymooners

Eighteen. Sickness and QVC

I'm not sure if it's because I know I'm pregnant that I feel so sick or if it's a genuine symptom of the baby growing in my belly. I woke up three times in the night and then had to rush - on my crutches with mum following behind me - to the bathroom twice this morning. Mum was on hand with her ginger ale and Ritz crackers, telling me to eat and drink them slowly.

I turn over in bed feeling like I'm swishing around in a washing machine on a spin cycle, hearing my mum's phone buzz from the counter. If it's Enzo calling again to apologise, then I'm going to block his number. What doesn't the guy understand about the words 'Leave Me Alone'? I grab my ringing phone and press the green button ready to give him a mouthful when Hayley, my boss, at DailyDiets sings down the line.

"How's the honeymoon? Can't take your hands off each other, I bet," she giggles.

I cringe. "Good. How're you?"

"I'm fabulous now I'm going to make your day. I hope you're sitting down," she says.

I look down at my cast and nod to myself. "Yes, I'm sat down."

"Now then, I know you are aware that your time as publisher here is coming to an end."

I get an anxious belly ache. Or maybe, I'm going to throw up again. At this point, I never know. "Yes, I've been expecting it."

"Congratulations, Ambrosia. You're looking at the new full-time editor at DailyDiets. Well done, girl. You so deserve it!"

My mouth goes wide. "What? Me? Really?"

"Yes," she giggles, "You start as soon as you come back next month."

I cringe at how my circumstances now could change everything. "Hayley, I must be honest with you. My leg's in a cast, and I'm pregnant."

The line goes quiet. "Wowzers, Am. Now that's what I call a honeymoon."

I massage my temple. "I know, it's intense, and I understand if you want to give the position to somebody else."

"Are you drunk? There's no way we're letting you go that easily. So, your leg's broken? You can work from home until you feel better. Pregnant? No biggie. Maternity leave only lasts a year, and then you can bring your baby to work if you have to do. It'll all work out."

I choke up a bit. "You mean it?"

"I swear," she laughs.

"Oh, thank you, Hayley." This couldn't have come at a better time.

I can do this on my own; I know it.

"You're welcome, Am. Enjoy the rest of your holiday, and I'll speak to you soon," she makes a squeaking noise, "Oh, and congrats on the Bubba."

I smile. "Thanks, Hayley. Take care."

I press the red button to end the call and put my phone down on the bed, smiling at mum when she steps inside the room. I can't believe they're keeping me on. It's a miracle in a hail storm.

"You sounded excited. Good news?"

I beam. "Yes, that was work. They want to keep me. I'm officially an editor."

"What?" she screeches jumping on the spot. "Oh, Ambrosia. You little superstar."

"I can't believe it."

"I can. You're passionate about your job, and they will see that. I call for a celebration. Think you can manage some pasta?"

I nod. "Pasta sounds good."

"I'll add basil to the sauce," she winks, stepping up to the edge of the bed, leaning down to plant a big kiss on my forehead. "And then we'll watch QVC together. I love the beauty segment."