Oopsie Daisy E-Book

Iris Morland

• Herausgeber: IRIS MORLAND
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Serie: Flower Shop Sisters
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019

Seitenzahl: 287

Beschreibung

My professor gave me my first D.
Now my next assignment is due...in nine months.
You know when you meet your new professor, and he ends up being the same man you had a one-night stand with three months ago?
Okay, maybe not. Let me explain.
I hadn’t intended to sleep with my professor. I might be known as the impulsive, prankster daughter in my family, but I’m not insane. I just wanted to have some fun in Ireland at my sister’s wedding, and maybe lose my virginity, too.
When I met Lochlann Gallagher at a pub one night, I couldn’t resist him. He was hot, Irish, and entirely set on seducing me. One unforgettable night under the sheets with him, and my V-card went up in smoke.
Well, that night had one itty bitty consequence because Lochlann totally made my eggo preggo.
And if this story isn’t crazy enough, Lochlann is not just my baby daddy: he’s now my professor and my advisor for grad school.
Somehow we have to figure out a way not to reveal this rapidly gestating secret while resisting the explosive attraction between us.
Except there’s just one more complication to this story: I think I’m totally falling for my baby daddy.
Oopsie daisy.

Leseprobe

Oopsie Daisy

A Steamy Romantic Comedy

Iris Morland

Blue Violet Press LLC

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Epilogue

Enjoy this exclusive excerpt

Also by Iris Morland

About the Author

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be constructed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Oopsie Daisy (The Flower Shop Sisters Book 3)

Published by Blue Violet Press LLC

Seattle, Washington

Copyright © 2019 by Iris Morland

Cover design by Qamber Designs

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Chapter One

Kate

Once upon a time, there was a girl who thought she could bang her brother-in-law’s cousin and not have it come back to haunt her.

Oh wait, that was me. Katherine Lydia Wright, third sister of the Wright girls, the most brilliant, extraordinary, outstanding, and amazing of the three of us. My oldest sister, Mari, might be good at eyeliner and my other sister, Dani, might be good at buying potting soil on sale, but I was something else. You know those people who make you go: wow, she’s going to accomplish so many things?

Well, no one’s really said that about me except for my parents. They also told me I could grow up to be a honey badger when I was five. But I believed I was going to accomplish things. And isn’t that what really matters?

Anyway, here I was, pursuing my dream of becoming a genetic engineer, starting grad school at the University of Washington, when it all blew up in my face.

Basically if you think of what happens when you light a match near gasoline, that’d be an accurate representation of my life at the moment.

Here’s a scene: me, a few weeks before my grad program officially started. I was meeting with my advisor that afternoon about my classes and my research goals. My particular type of research centered around modifying genes to create a biofuel that was like gasoline—wait, do you care about this?

You want to know about the cousin thing.

Patience, my friend. I’m getting there.

So here I am, about to knock on the door of my advisor’s office. When I saw that he didn’t have a nameplate, I realized I hadn’t taken the time to look him up at all. Stupid me. I needed to do that when I got home.

I heard a muffled voice say come in, and I did. I saw a man with jet-black hair sitting at his computer, his face hidden by the wide screen.

Something in my stomach bounced. I called it my inner “uh-oh” voice, the same voice that liked to tell me that I should maybe not have put frogs in my sisters’ beds because I ended up with frogs in my bed afterward.

“Have a seat,” my advisor said. “I’ll be with you in a minute.”

I sat down. I placed my bag on my lap, but it tumbled from my grip when my advisor finally revealed his face.

Oh.

My.

Fucking.

God.

Lochlann. It was Lochlann. The man I’d had a one-night stand with three months ago. In Ireland.

Oh God, oh God, oh God. I’d had torrid sex with my advisor. I’d lost my virginity to my advisor.

Seeing his sharp features, his jet-black hair, that sensual mouth—it all came back to me in a rush. I’d never, ever forget that night.

But based on the way he was looking at me, he’d forgotten me already.

“Ms. Wright? You dropped your bag,” he said coolly.

I looked at my bag, its contents having scattered near my feet. “Huh,” was my brilliant reply.

“Are you all right?” he said a little more gently.

I bent down and began to toss my things into my bag—my phone with its eggplant emoji case, my feather pens because they were ridiculous, my keychains with one of my favorite science pickup lines. I wish I was adenine, then I could get paired with U.

He didn’t remember me. He didn’t remember me. I felt—relieved? Offended? Had I been that boring of a lay? God, how humiliating. Here I’d been, dreaming of him all summer, and he probably hadn’t remembered my name the next morning. Even though we’d both been in my sister Mari and his cousin Liam’s wedding.

Talk about awkward.

I stuffed my hands under my butt to hide their shaking. This only made my legs shake and I almost shook myself off the chair.

“Um, I’m Kate,” I finally said, sticking out my hand. “You can call me that, too. No one calls me Miss Wright. Besides, I prefer Ms. anyway. I’m not married, although why should it matter? It’s dumb. Men are just mister, no matter what.”

I clapped my mouth shut, a hot blush staining my cheeks. Lochlann took my hand in his firm grip, and fuck me if I didn’t have a mini-orgasm right then.

“Dr. Gallagher, nice to meet you.” He sat back in his chair and sifted through the small handful of papers currently sitting on his desk. “I apologize for the mess. I was only recently given this office, but the previous occupant took all of the file cabinets and folders.”

He put on a pair of reading glasses, which only seemed to emphasize his handsomeness. I also had to bite back an awkward giggle, because who called four pieces of a paper a “mess”?

But no, who cared about papers. More importantly, how had I not known that Liam’s cousin was a professor in my field? Or that he was living and working in Seattle now? When I’d asked Mari about Lochlann back in June, she’d said he worked in Dublin doing something “nerdy.”

Thanks a lot, Mari, I thought wryly.

“Oh, yes, I remember now. You’re researching biofuels, which would make perfect sense as that is also my area of research.”

My ears perked despite the situation. Talk nerdy to me, Lochlann, I thought with a shiver. And in that Irish accent? Swoon. He was going to have to mop me up after this, because I was already melting into a swooning-girl puddle.

“Your schedule looks good, although I’d encourage you to take more outside your specific field,” said Lochlann—no, Dr. Gallagher, I had to think of him as that from now. He was my advisor.

“I didn’t want to overload my schedule with too many different types of classes, I guess.”

Dr. Gallagher took off his reading glasses, and I almost sighed. “I’d like you to expand beyond your specific interests. It’d also look good if you plan to apply for an internship over the summer.”

“I’ll consider it.”

“Excellent.” He leaned back in his office chair, cool as an Irish cucumber. Or an Irish potato—except he was hot, so he was a very hot potato—

“Miss Wright, did you hear me?”

Me being me, I blurted, “Nope. Not one word.”

Most people would’ve smiled, or rolled their eyes and huff-laughed. I tend to get people to do that, even when they find me annoying. It’s a gift.

Apparently Dr. Gallagher was immune to me. Except in the sex department, or the memory department.

“Please pay attention,” he said. “I don’t have time to repeat myself.”

“You seem very busy.” I glanced at the four pieces of paper on his desk with a raised eyebrow. Okay, maybe I’d miscounted: there looked to be all of five documents. Damn, this guy sure was slammed with work.

Again, he didn’t react. Was he made of stone? What had happened to the charmer who’d charmed my panties right off of me three months ago? Maybe Dr. Gallagher was impersonating his secret twin brother and the man sitting before me was, in fact, someone else.

Except when I looked at his wrist, I saw that scar, about two inches long, that I’d asked him about. Get in a fight with a rosebush? I’d joked.

Worse, he’d said wryly. A very angry and overheated container of fuel.

Right then, he saw me looking at the scar and moved his hands so I could no longer see it.

His gaze then flicked over me, and if I weren’t imagining things I almost could’ve thought he did recognize me. It wasn’t like we’d fucked without ever turning on the lights. I’d gotten a good look at him—head, chest, dick, legs. Ass, or arse, as he called it. And he’d done the same for me (except for looking at my dick, obviously).

But that gaze flicker of his disappeared so quickly I wondered if I’d imagined it. Was I hoping for something that wasn’t there?

Does it matter? He’s your advisor. Like this can go anywhere. Don’t be totally stupid, Kate. Or even stupider than you’ve already been.

To be slightly fair, I didn’t know he’d end up being my advisor.

The combination of being miffed and irritated with his arrogance made the reckless side of me come out to play. Which meant that the uh-oh voice rang alarm bells in my head. It jumped up and down. It said, Kate, don’t do it. Don’t do the thing.

“I most definitely don’t have time for cheeky grad students,” he said, steepling his fingers.

“Didn’t you see that bit on my CV? ‘Cheeky girl, can be bribed with snacks.’” Sitting up straighter, I added, “Speaking of running out of time—I’m meeting someone, so I can’t stay much longer. My boyfriend, actually. He doesn’t like when I keep him waiting.”

Lochlann turned back to his computer. I hadn’t imagined that heated look he’d given me. He recognized me, the dick.

Kate, he can’t exactly bring it up. Come on.

He doesn’t have to act like he doesn’t know me, I countered.

“If you have any more questions, please email me,” said Lochlann.

I was dismissed.

You know that feeling you get when you’re so pissed your brain goes dark and words are suddenly just coming out of your mouth?

“My boyfriend, his name is Steve. He’s a grad student, too. He’s really smart. Like, he could win a Nobel Prize smart.”

“Fascinating,” said Lochlann. “Is he in the materials program as well?”

“No, he studies—” I struggled to think of a suitably cool and amazing thing to study that would make Lochlann jealous. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the keychain I’d bought at the zoo a year ago: a wind-up flamingo that flapped its wings. “The mating habits of native Washington flamingos.”

At that, Lochlann finally looked at me. “Flamingos? I wasn’t aware they were native to the Pacific Northwest.”

“Oh, there’s a huge population in Forks,” I said, naming the town made famous by the Twilight franchise. “They’re everywhere. A real nuisance. They’re basically like geese except they’re pink. Super aggressive. Never approach a flamingo from behind.”

“Fascinating,” drawled Lochlann.

“But Steve—my boyfriend—he also plays football. He’s so good at it. He works out every day and he can hit the ball so far. It’s amazing.” I knew I was digging my hole deeper, but my mouth just kept moving despite the uh-oh voice screaming in my mind to stop.

“Really? What position does he play?”

Shit. I didn’t know anything about football because it had always seemed boring and stupid to me.

“You probably wouldn’t know, since I’m talking about American football,” I said breezily.

“I’m aware, Miss Wright. What position?”

Sweat dripped down my spine. I couldn’t think of one position besides the one that came tumbling out: “The ball toucher.”

“The ball toucher,” repeated Lochlann, skepticism lacing his voice.

“Touching balls—it’s very important.”

Was that a bit of a smile on his lips, or was Lochlann just twitchy? “I can’t say that I disagree with that statement.”

Okay, I needed to get the hell out of here. Grabbing my things, I said hurriedly, “I’ll call you. No, email. I don’t have your phone number. Why would I have your phone number?” I laughed, but it came out as a croak.

“Have a lovely rest of your day, Miss Wright. Be sure not to get into any fights with a flamingo.”

Oh my God, I’m so fucked.

Chapter Two

Lochlann

Christ, I was fucked.

The second Miss Wright shut my office door behind her, I slumped into my office chair and groaned.

What were the odds that one of my grad students would be the same woman I’d slept with three months ago?

A woman who I later discovered was my cousin’s new sister-in-law, not just one of the bride’s friends. Luckily, Liam hadn’t found out. And I wasn’t about to tell him. He’d rip off my bollocks and throw them into the Pacific Ocean.

So I’d done what any self-respecting man trying to preserve his bollocks would do: I’d acted like I hadn’t recognized her.

That night in June, when I’d found Kate drinking alone in an Irish pub, I’d been like a moth attracted to a flame. She’d been so vibrant, so unconcerned with what other people thought of her. She’d mimicked my accent, and it had been such a bad impersonation that I’d almost choked from laughter.

I hadn’t laughed like that in a long time.

But I’d known then it had just been for sex. Hot, quick, dirty sex. No regrets there—Kate had given as good as she’d got. And when she’d gone back to the States a day after the wedding, that had been that.

Apparently not. She was like a bad penny I couldn’t shake. Also a penny that blathered when it got nervous. Had she been like that back in Ireland? Because this Kate wasn’t the confident woman I’d been instantly attracted to. She’d seemed so…young.

And that made me feel like such a damn creep. I reminded myself that she was old enough to be admitted to a graduate program. It wasn’t as if I’d had sex with a high school student.

Let’s stop that train of thought before we get arrested. God knows Americans love to throw people in jail.

I sighed. Should I ask Kate to be assigned to another professor? But what reason would I give?

We fucked each other’s brains out a few months ago. It won’t happen again. But it’s a little awkward now. You get what I mean?

“Knock, knock,” said a voice before my door was opened. Dr. Elizabeth Martin, one of my new colleagues in the department, stepped inside, her brown pumps clicking against the floor. “We’re all going for drinks. Did you want to join us? We’re going to a place that has some great Irish food.”

Doubtful, I thought, missing the greasy pub food from back home fiercely. “I have more work to do,” I said. Seeing Dr. Martin’s disappointed expression, I added, “Sorry.”

Americans were so bloody sensitive. Tell one no, you were busy, and they were liable to burst into tears.

“Come on, take a break. The quarter hasn’t even started yet.” Dr. Martin sat down on the edge of my desk, crossing her tanned legs, her skirt short enough to reveal a bit of thigh. “You don’t want to overwork yourself already.”

I could hear the flirtatious note in her voice. Were all American women out to torment me?

Stop complaining, ye gobshite.

I could hear the voice of my dad in my mind, and I had to bite back a smile. He’d always been the traditionally Irish father: cursing you, even when he was offering praise. I’d had to learn through trial and error that most people didn’t enjoy being insulted when you were trying to give them encouragement or advice.

Dr. Martin’s skirt seemed to inch up her thigh of its own volition. Sneaky, that skirt.

Of course, it made me think of a different skirt on a different dress, in a different country and with a different woman. I could almost hear Kate’s moans as I kissed down her spine, licking at the small of her back and kissing the faint constellation of freckles there.

I had to shift because my trousers were getting tight.

“See, you’re already working,” said Dr. Martin. She crossed her ankles and somehow managed to push her breasts together. The buttons on her blouse would burst off her shirt like shrapnel if she weren’t careful. “You definitely need a break.”

“I need to get this done.”

She frowned but was undeterred. “I was surprised the department assigned you the one female student. I was so sure they would’ve given her to me.”

You and me both, I thought darkly. “Our research coincides more than yours does,” I said frankly, because it was true. Although she was researching genetic engineering, I’d learned at the recent staff meeting that her focus was on agriculture.

“Just don’t get yourself in trouble,” she said suddenly.

I looked up sharply, but Dr. Martin just laughed.

“I’m kidding. You seem totally aboveboard, Professor.” She snagged a Post-it from my desk and scribbled on it. “Here’s my number if you change your mind about drinks. See you later.”

I tried to clear up my inbox, but I could barely concentrate. Anxiety churned in my gut. There was no way Dr. Martin had seen anything between me and Kate. Fear wasn’t the most logical emotion, however.

Grabbing my things, I almost dove under my desk when I heard Dr. Martin laughing down the hallway. Christ, she’d drag me along to drinks if I weren’t careful.

So much for getting to know your coworkers, idiot.

Fucking sue me. I didn’t feel like talking to people tonight. I needed some time to think and to figure out how the hell I was going to deal with a little problem called Kate Wright.

When I arrived home at the tiny flat I’d found a mile from campus so I had an excuse not to learn how to drive (Americans were bloody insane drivers), Clurichaun greeted me at the door.

A huge, fluffy orange beast of a cat, Clurichaun had been surprisingly calm about the whole move from Ireland. He hadn’t remotely lived up to his name, an Irish fairy that loved to drink and play pranks. When I’d had to take Clurichaun out of his carrier at the airport, he’d blinked sleepily and had promptly fallen back asleep in my arms.

My flat consisted of a futon that was about to fall apart any day now and a coffee table made from a cardboard box. The living room was also my bedroom. I should probably get some furniture… I thought for the hundredth time. But it wasn’t like research professors were paid decent money here. The only reason I’d swallowed the paycheck was because the University of Washington had one of the best materials and science programs and it’d be worth it to further my own research.

I’d known that I’d wanted to become a scientist since I’d discovered in primary school how easily you could create chemical reactions from basic things. I’d used up all of my mam’s vinegar and baking soda one summer when I was five years old, loving the way it bubbled in her huge cooking pot like a cauldron full of potions. My mam hadn’t taken kindly to me using up all of her ingredients, or using her cooking pot for science experiments.

As I’d got older, I’d become more interested in genetics and the science behind essentially engineering DNA. Combined with a real fear of climate change and the necessity to find a fuel source that wasn’t based on fossil fuels that damaged the ozone, I became obsessed with the possibility of creating a type of fuel through genetic engineering. It was the combination of biology and engineering that I found fulfilling.

My work at the University of Ireland had brought great advancements in my research: specifically in experiments on bacterial DNA. As my research had progressed, my star had risen as well, and when I had the opportunity to go to a university with a larger, more robust, program, I hadn’t hesitated.

But all of that hard work, the sacrifices, the paperwork and bullshite you had to deal with to immigrate to America—it was all in jeopardy. Because of one slip of a girl who’d shown up in the last place I would’ve ever expected her.

What were the odds? I laughed, because it was preferable to bursting into ugly man tears. I hadn’t cried since my dog had got hit by a car when I was seven.

Clurichaun got onto my lap and started purring so loudly he made my knees shake. I stroked the cat’s fur absentmindedly.

I couldn’t let Kate know I recognized her. Most importantly, I needed to talk to Dr. Martin and see if she’d take her and give me one of her students. I didn’t know the protocol in the department for a student swap, but I’d come up with some excuse. I’d say that Kate and I didn’t get along. Or that she wanted to work with a female professor. That was plausible, right?

And how are you going to get Kate to agree to this?

Based on how embarrassed she’d looked during our bizarre conversation, I couldn’t imagine she wanted to keep me as her advisor, similar research or no. My anxiety calmed somewhat.

I’d get this all hammered out and no one would need to know. As long as Kate kept her mouth shut—who would believe her, anyway?—I could keep my job and not have my reputation utterly fucked. I wasn’t going to let one mistake ruin everything. One night of casual sex was not going to destroy everything I’d worked towards.

Clurichaun meowed in annoyance, hopping down to the floor. Apparently I’d been petting him too aggressively. He licked at his fur, his eyes flashing disdain.

“Sorry, mate. What would you do in my situation?”

Clurichaun just started licking his nonexistent bollocks in reply.

My phone rang, reminding me that I had a phone call with my mam and da tonight. It was about six hours later in Ireland at the moment. I made myself smooth my expression. I couldn’t let my parents be suspicious. My mam, when she sensed something was up, would be like a hound on the scent for blood.

“Lochlann!” said my mam. Both she and my da’s faces came up.

Da waved and then asked, “Can you hear us?” He practically yelled the words.

“Yeah, I can hear you. Da, you don’t need to yell into the phone, you know,” I said.

“Last time we called we couldn’t hear you. Reception is terrible here,” said my mam.

In their sixties now, my parents had worked their entire lives to give me the education they’d never had. As an only child, I’d got their complete focus, but with that came the expectation that I’d make something of myself. I wanted to become successful so I could support my parents as they aged. It was my duty as the only son.

“How was your day? Are you teaching yet?” said my da.

“Classes haven’t started yet,” I replied. “I told you that.”

“Oh, well, I can’t remember all the details of your schedule. Do you like Seattle? What’s everyone like? Are there really Starbucks on every corner?” This from my mam.

I bit back a smile. “Seattle is kind of like Ireland, except there aren’t as many pubs. But the weather is similar. And yes, there are Starbucks on every corner.”

My mam elbowed my da, my da wincing. “I told you! Have you been to—what is it called?—Walls-mart? Is that what it’s called?”

“Walmart. And no, there isn’t one in Seattle proper,” I said with a smile.

My mam gave me a disappointed look. “Well, you need to go to one and tell us all about it. I’ve heard they’re huge.”

“Mattie, he’s busy. He doesn’t have time to go to a bunch of stores,” said my da.

I told my parents about my new department, the classes I was teaching, and I briefly touched on the grad students I’d be advising. When I mentioned one was a female, my mam jumped on that detail, to my immense frustration. Although to be fair, the percentage of women in most STEM programs was abysmally low.

“A girl! Did you ever advise a girl in Ireland? I thought only men attended these programs,” said my mam.

“It’s not like they’re not open to women,” I countered.

My da pushed up his glasses. “No, but it’s a field that men do. Like women are nurses.”

I wasn’t about to argue that things had changed and that there were plenty of men becoming nurses and women becoming engineers. Instead, I just said, “Well, there are women in the program. I met with my student today. Her research is similar to mine, which is why she was assigned to me.”

“Is she single?” My mam’s eyes widened. “How old is she?”

I needed to end this conversation now. Giving them an excuse that I was meeting up with a colleague, I ended the phone call and sighed deeply.

Clurichaun meowed at my feet.

“What a fucking disaster,” I muttered, Clurichaun seeming to nod in agreement.

Chapter Three

Kate

When I was younger, I wished my two older sisters were two older brothers. Brothers didn’t stick their noses in your business, or act like they knew so much by virtue of the fact that they were a few years older.

Okay, I was seven years younger than Dani, and nine years younger than Mari. Growing up, I’d seen them both as adversaries and the two people I wanted to impress. Which was why I put frogs in their beds or dyed their hair blue (makes sense, right?).

“Are you excited to start grad school?” said Mari serenely, her milky white hands resting on her burgeoning baby belly as we waited for our brunch entrees to arrive.

Mari was glowing, and it was almost to the point of being nauseating. Dani sat next to her, checking her phone, dirt under her fingernails. Mari had recently begun working as a freelance makeup artist and YouTuber, while Dani ran my family’s flower shop, Buds and Blossoms, with her fiancé, Jacob.

My stomach roiled. Apparently Mari was literally nauseating, because I definitely felt like my stomach was about to come out of my butt.

The nausea was probably from thinking about the fact that I’d slept with my advisor and I had no idea what the hell I was going to do about it.

Yeah, I wasn’t telling my sisters that tidbit.

Dani shot me a strange look. “Are you okay?”

“Totally.”

“So, are you excited?” pressed Mari in that older sister voice. You can’t ignore me was its underlying tone.

I almost felt badly for her husband, Liam. But Liam made me think of Lochlann, and oh God, I couldn’t puke here. Had I gotten the flu somehow? In September? Maybe it was cholera or dysentery. I’d blame Lochlann for either of those diagnoses.

I shrugged at Mari’s question. “Sure.”

Dani was still looking at me strangely. “You’re acting weird today.”

“Am I?”

“You’re so…” Dani tilted her head to the side, her curly hair gently waving in the breeze. “Calm.”

“I can be calm,” I shot back.

“The only time you’re calm is when you’re asleep, or when you were high on pain meds after getting your wisdom teeth out.” Mari chuckled. “You thought Oprah was going to bring you an elephant as a reward, remember?”

“You cried so hard when Mom told you Oprah wasn’t coming,” said Dani.

“I did not,” I grumbled, crossing my arms.

“But did you sign up for your classes? What are you taking? Not that I’d understand any of it.” Mari put up her hands, smiling wryly. “You’re smarter than all of us.”

At that, I sat up a little straighter and began to rattle off my classes. When my sisters’ eyes started to glaze over, I sat back and smirked. They might be older but there were some things I knew about that they’d never get, like my fascination with genes and all the nerdy things that made me so excited but had bored them both to tears.

“Jacob says hi,” said Dani as she texted one last message. “We’re doing a wedding tomorrow and the bride has been calling us both nonstop to make sure we won’t forget. Apparently at her first wedding, the florist showed up drunk and with a bunch of brown roses for her bouquet. She’s been a little intense about this second round.”

“Is that why she got a divorce?” I asked innocently.

Mari gave me the Older Sister Look. Dani, though, laughed.

“Worse,” said Dani. “Her husband left her to live in a hippy commune in Hawaii. Apparently he renamed himself Rainbow Sunshine Cloudmaker. Suffice to say, Meredith didn’t feel like joining him at the commune.”

Right then, our food arrived. I always ordered waffles and mimosas for brunch, but when I inhaled the scent of delicious, golden, crispy waffle, my stupid stomach turned upside down. Couldn’t a girl enjoy some waffles without it going badly?

Maybe I was just really, really hungry. I hadn’t eaten since last night, and it was close to eleven AM. I drank a big gulp of my grapefruit mimosa, the bubbles making me cover my mouth to hide a loud belch.

“Lovely,” said Mari as she began to eat her salad. “Always the lady.”

“I try,” I said.

I began to dig into my waffle, and for a moment my nausea disappeared. Mari began to talk about her baby shower in two weeks, which Dani and Mari’s sister-in-law, Niamh (pronounced Neev, because sure, why not?), were planning. Dani had asked me if I’d wanted to help, but I’d declined. What the hell did I know about babies or baby showers? I’d bring the booze. That was the most important thing, anyway.

“I really don’t want any games,” said Mari. “Just gifts and food.”

“Baby shower games are pretty stupid,” agreed Dani.

Sounds boring, I thought to myself as I shoveled waffle into my mouth.

“Liam and I haven’t agreed on a theme for the nursery yet. He wants to do something Irish, which I like, but I don’t want a bunch of creepy leprechauns in my baby’s nursery.” Mari shuddered.

“Does Liam want to scar your kid for life?” said Dani with a laugh.

I added, “Maybe he’s just really into Lucky Charms.”

“No, he likes the original Irish fairytales but they aren’t kid-friendly. He says he heard them growing up and look how he turned out. But since I’m pregnant, he always ends up doing what I say.” Mari patted her belly with a wide smile.

Was it weird that all this pregnancy talk made me uncomfortable? I drank more of my mimosa, hoping my sisters couldn’t see how bored I was. Which then made me feel guilty, because I loved my sisters and this was an exciting new chapter for Mari and Liam.

Maybe I just didn’t get it. I didn’t get the appeal of giving up your life, your dreams, your identity, for a baby.

I didn’t know if it was the last bite of waffle or the second mimosa but the nausea returned full-force as we waited for the check. I started sweating profusely, and as I was about to run to the bathroom, that terrible heaving feeling took over.

I reached a nearby flowerpot filled with pansies and mums right before I puked up my waffle, my mimosas, and probably a kidney in the process. Nearby patrons gasped; I heard chairs squealing against the floor. Then I felt a gentle hand pulling my hair back as I vomited a second, then a third time. By the time I was done, I was sweaty, swearing, and mad that I’d just wasted a perfectly good waffle.

“Are you okay? Sit down.” Dani directed me to a chair; Mari handed me a glass of water. I drank the entire thing in practically one gulp.

Mari put a hand to my forehead. “You don’t seem like you have a fever.”

“It’s probably cholera,” I joked.

“You’d have a fever then, you dork.” Dani handed me another glass of water.

It took a lot of persuasion on my part to convince my sisters that the nausea had passed, and I could go home without them clucking and fussing over me.

I wondered if I’d gotten food poisoning—but didn’t it take longer than that? I did feel better, though. Maybe it had been the waffle? Or I’d drunk my mimosas too fast?

“How was brunch?” asked my roommate, Naoko, as I collapsed into a chair next to her. Naoko Tsushima was a senior, about to earn a degree in music. Her specialty? The tuba. Considering she was all of five feet tall, I still didn’t know how she could manage an instrument that large. A flute would’ve made more sense.

“I puked my guts up,” I said.

Naoko paused The Great British Baking Show episode she was watching. “Wait? Literally or figuratively?”

“Literally. Well, literally-ish. My actual guts are still inside me.”

Naoko made a face. “Um, TMI. Also: why? Or what was it from?”

I sighed. “No idea. I’m guessing food poisoning.”

“While you were eating? Or from food you ate last night?”

I shrugged. “I mean, what else could it be? I feel fine now. I don’t have a fever. I can’t imagine it’s the flu, right?”

Naoko scrunched her nose up. “If you have the flu, I’m dousing you in Lysol.” Pressing play on her show, she added with a chuckle, “You’re probably pregnant.”

I didn’t even register her comment until I saw a commercial for baby wipes ten minutes later. I wondered if Mari was going to get fancy organic wipes for my niece or nephew. She was going to use cloth diapers, which sounded like a huge pain to me.

Then, a thought: could I be pregnant?

I pushed that thought down so hard, so fast, that I refused to examine it again. Except, it followed me the rest of the afternoon and into the evening.

Lying on my bed after the sun had set and listening to a super cheery podcast about how humanity was destroying the planet at an alarming rate, I couldn’t get rid of the idea.