“Well, don’t worry about that. Just decide what you’re going to do.”

Before Claire could answer her iPhone rang. It was the third call from Tony. “I need to go; he’s calling again. I can’t avoid his calls all day.”

“Love you, Honey. Tell me what you decide, or maybe Tony should. That way I’ll react honestly.”

“Got to go, bye.” Claire disconnected her work phone and answered the iPhone.

Tony’s call added to Claire’s already fried emotions. Besides working things out with Harry and Amber, she’d just learned Tony was going to ask her to the Simmons’ wedding in five days, and she’d realized at the very least, her period was three weeks late. Needless to say, she didn’t need to feign anxiety; it was real. “Tony, this is the third time you’ve called this morning. We aren’t making any public appearances for two weeks. Please give me some space.”

“Hello, Claire, so nice to hear your pleasant tone.”

“I’ve got a lot going on. What do you want?”

“Let me say, I would call less frequently if you would answer your phone.” She didn’t respond. He continued, “I made plans for us, for this coming weekend.”

Despite the upheaval in her life, she attempted to conceal the smile from her voice, not wanting the emerging expression to reveal her eagerness to attend the wedding. The mixture of emotions caused her voice to crack; hopefully it came across as irritation, “I agreed to go to Chicago, in two weeks. I’m not going anywhere with you next weekend.”

“I believe I might be able to persuade you otherwise.”

“Is that a threat? What are you going to do this time, arrange a walk-out of SiJo’s employees?”

“No, Claire. No threats – I believe you’ll want to attend this function.”

Exasperation evident, she replied, “Why? What function would I possibly want to attend with you?”

“Caleb and Julia’s wedding.”

Claire gasped. It was unbelievable. Even after Courtney’s call, Claire never truly believed she’d have this opportunity. “But, but... all of your friends think I tried to kill you.”

“The news release says differently.”

“That doesn’t mean they’ve changed their opinion of me. They probably don’t want me there.” As they continued to speak, Tony convinced Claire her presence was welcomed. She agreed to fly commercial to Iowa City, arriving Thursday afternoon. He wanted the chance for her to meet with his friends before the wedding, which was Saturday.

Claire’s agreement contained a few stipulations: She wanted a pre-purchased return ticket for Sunday. Tony agreed.

The next confrontation came when discussing accommodations. Tony wanted her to stay at the estate. Claire’s initial response was no. Reinforcing her stance, she exclaimed, “This idea is undebatable.”

Then Claire thought about Catherine. “The news release said you let some longtime members of your staff go. I know you still have Eric. Is Catherine still at the estate?”

“She is. And she’s hoping you will stay here.”

Claire exhaled, “My room will need a lock.”

“That isn’t a problem.”

His answer made her bristle. “It needs to be a lock that operates from the inside.” She clarified, “Also I will keep my phone at all times and have access to your Wi-Fi.”

He chuckled, “You drive a hard bargain. I told you before you should go into business. You are a master negotiator.”

Claire remembered Harry’s words: When it comes to Mr. Rawlings, your negotiating skills are stellar! My guess is that you’ll leave your little meeting and move back to Iowa. She wasn’t moving. This was just a visit.

As soon as she hung up with Tony, Claire went to the store and bought a home pregnancy kit. Sitting at her dressing table and waiting for the results, the memories of her phone calls filtrated her thoughts. She wanted to go to Caleb’s wedding. However, the results of this test could make everything different.

Claire stared at the white plastic stick and waited for the timer to sound on her iPhone. Did she really need this little piece of plastic to tell her what she already knew? She was experiencing all the symptoms: nausea - more intense in the morning, hunger – all the time and tiredness – even after napping, and thirst – unquenchable at times. Looking at the two small openings within the stick, Claire saw lines begin to form. The directions said: results in three minutes. It had been less than one, and the vertical blue line in the control window appeared before her eyes, indicating the test was working.

Her head pounded with questions. What symbol would appear in the other window? Would she see a lone horizontal stripe meaning not pregnant, or a horizontal and a vertical stripe indicating pregnant. Essentially the directions said a plus sign would form in the case of pregnancy. Plus was often synonymous for positive; thinking about that possibility, positive was not the word Claire believed she’d use to describe her current mental state.

She closed her eyes and debated her distress. Was it from the nausea twisting her stomach or the fear of the unknown quickening her heart rate? The buzz of the timer triggered her iPhone to vibrate across the dressing table. Claire’s eyes opened. Before her on the table was her answer – the indicator window revealed a blue plus.

The bottom fell out of Claire’s world. She eased herself from the stool and sank to the bathroom floor. The ceramic tile cooled her legs, while the solid wall supported her head. Mentally she assessed the timeline: mid-early – April period, two weeks later – dream, three weeks later – San Diego and now – here she was, seven weeks since her last menstruation. How had she not thought of this before?

Reaching for her phone, she scrolled her contacts for Amber’s doctor, one of the most sought after gynecologists in the Silicon Valley. After San Diego, Claire called and made an appointment, hoping to get a prescription for birth control pills. The usual waiting period for new patients was up to six months. Amber’s referral shortened the wait considerably. Claire’s appointment was in another three weeks. However, now things were different, waiting wasn’t an option. Then she realized the day, Sunday, she would have to wait another day to call.

Tears moistened her cheeks as she placed her head on her knees and gave in to the overwhelming emotion. Before she could make any decisions, or talk to anyone, Claire needed answers. First and foremost, how pregnant was she – seven weeks or four weeks?

Finally, she made her way back into her bedroom and into the overpowering aroma of roses; thankfully the flowery aroma was pleasurable – the three bouquets saturated every molecule of the room. She’d meant to ask Tony if he’d sent the other two bouquets. However, with the talk of the wedding and thoughts of the pregnancy, she forgot.

Claire went to her laptop and Googled answers. How effective are condoms? The search engine spun – answers appeared: if used correctly, condoms are 98% effective. With common usage the failure rate grows to between 14 and 15%.

What do they mean if used correctly? How many ways are there to use a condom?

Monday morning Claire called the doctor’s office and was relieved to learn of a Wednesday afternoon opening. If it weren’t for her dream, Claire would consider asking Harry to join her. However, despite their reconciliation Sunday morning, there was a change in their relationship. It was her news of the wedding that pushed his limits. Although it wasn’t declared, instinctively, Claire knew it. The stolen glances and casual touches were gone.

Everything probably happened too fast. Yet, thinking about the possibility they’d used the condoms commonly and not correctly, Claire was thankful they were still comfortable and friendly with one another. Harry appreciated Claire’s bond with Courtney and her desire to attend the ceremony. He couldn’t comprehend the necessity of being in Iowa Thursday through Sunday, and most importantly, why she agreed to stay at Mr. Rawlings’ estate. Claire told him and Amber the truth. She was staying at the estate for one reason – to see Catherine.