73 Memories

The Fifty-Sixth Memory

The day we got back home from Ireland, I wasn't feeling very good. We had stayed for two weeks, which was seven days longer than planned, yet worth it.

"It's probably jet-lag," I insisted. "I'll bet if I lay down for a little while I'll feel better."

You sighed but nodded anyway. "If you don't feel better, we're both staying home tomorrow."

I knew that was the best deal I would get, so I smiled gratefully and made my way to the bed that I missed so much. "Finally," I mumbled, crawling under the covers and falling into a deep sleep.

++++

I woke up to the sun shining through the curtains and you sleeping soundly next to me, telling me it was morning. I sat up and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, and then stood up to stretch.

I turned around to look at you, sleeping peacefully. Since I didn't know what time you had gone to bed, I decided that I would take a shower and then make breakfast.

I grabbed a shirt out of my closet but had to quickly drop it as I made a run for the bathroom, just barely getting the toilet lid open in time to throw up the contents of my stomach.

This woke you up. You came rushing into the bathroom with a concerned look on your face. "What's wrong?"

I shook my head and waved you off. "I'm just feeling nauseous, no big deal."

You sighed, running your fingers through your hair. "Get in the shower. I'll call into both of our jobs and tell them the flight was delayed or something. You take a shower, and I'll bring clothes in for you to change into when I get off the phone.

You were out of the room before I could even object to anything. I stood up and turned on the shower, knowing that I'd probably feel better doing exactly what you said to. As I waited for the shower to heat up all the way, I brushed my teeth and then threw away the brush, deciding I'd buy a new one after that.

When I got out of the shower, there were clean clothes sitting on the counter, which surprised me because I didn't hear you come in. I slide on the sweatpants and yellow hoodie and then threw my towel in the dirty laundry. At least staying home would let me get caught up on that.

While we were sitting in the breakfast nook, me eating cereal, and you eating oatmeal, which you know I absolutely hate, Emlyn called.

"Hey, girl! You guys back?"

"Yeah, we just got back yesterday. I went to bed as soon as we got home."

"Um, why? You should have called me first!"

I rolled my eyes, but a small smile made its way onto my face anyways. "I didn't feel good. I even threw up this morning."

Emlyn paused on the other end.

"What?" I asked.

"You threw up this morning?"

"Yeah."

"Did you ever throw up in the morning in Ireland?"

"Only the last morning we were there," I said, shoveling another spoonful into my mouth. "Why?"

"Patience," she scolded.  "How do you feel now?"

I thought about it for a moment. "Fine, I guess. Why?"

Emlyn sighed. "You really don't know what I'm trying to say?"

"No."

"I think you're pregnant!" She shouted through the phone in a duh voice.

Loud enough for you to hear.

I hung up on Emlyn to try and talk to you, but the only thing you could say was, "What?"

What do you guys think? Is She pregnant or not?