Bundle of Joy? by Ariella Papa Page A

scary.” I was about to elaborate when Crystal started a long loud story about a fire in her dorm room when she was a freshman. We listened politely. I finished my drink. I would have gone back into the kitchen to refill and escape the description of Crystal’s charred stuffed animals, but Mr. Jacobs was on it. I was halfway through my second (strong) margarita when Jamie managed to get a word in.
    “Well, I think Voula and I should head into town. I need toget something at the drugstore.” She grinned and looked around, waiting for Ana to quiz her.
    “Honey, you just got here. Let Voula enjoy her drink.”
    I wanted to kiss Mr. Jacobs, but I’m sure he was already too embarrassed as always by Crystal.
    “I figured we could rent a bike for Voula, too.”
    Great, just what I wanted: a drunken bike ride. Block Island, despite its relentless drinking, was full of people on bicycles trying to avoid the cars that were going about five miles an hour to avoid them. I always had to go on at least one ride, just to be a sport. The Jacobses could spring it on you at any time. I usually hung back, hoping no one would notice if I decided to get off and walk, fighting off thoughts of Cristina. She had been on a moped in Cyprus when she died. She must not have seen the car barreling toward her. Ever since, anything with two wheels freaks me out. I held on to the brake every time I went downhill, no matter how small the incline. I was scared that if my speed picked up, I wouldn’t be able to stop.
    “It’s almost six, honey,” Mr. Jacobs said. “By the time you get the bike, the drugstore will be closed.”
    “Should we really be biking?” I asked, letting my eyes drop. If Jamie was knocked up, maybe she’d think biking wasn’t a good idea and I could get out of it.
    “Why, what’s going on?” Ana said, immediately suspicious. Ana always felt like people were trying to put one over on her. She had to be included.
    “Nothing,” Jamie said quickly. “I just still feel queasy from the boat.”
     
    In the morning, Mike arrived with Maura, who’d managed to pick up a pregnancy test when she got him at the ferry.
    Mike looked like he’d stepped out of a Polo ad. I’m sure he never would have bought Polo, though. His clothes probably came from some obscure Boston tailor.
    Like his big sister Jamie, Mike had been a really smart teenager. He had been accepted to Stuyvesant, but went to Bronx Science. Everyone had assumed he was going to be a scientistor a doctor or something. He was kind of a nerd, but once he got out of high school he shirked the full rides he had to places like MIT and Cooper Union and decided to be a font designer.
    A what? That’s what I said, but apparently Mike was really good at coming up with new ways of making letters. He started working in a font firm and within two years had done so well that he started his own company.
    While your average person (myself included) really had no idea what he did, a select few art directors in everything from magazines to ad agencies considered him a god. What had been socially inept, nerdy behavior in high school, had turned into too-cool-for-school eccentricity. He was the quietest of all the Jacobs children, and I wondered if he was a bit disdainful to have to hang out with people who didn’t understand him.
    We exchanged some quick greetings with Mike before Jamie pulled me into the bathroom for the pee test. I feigned revulsion, but I was secretly thrilled to be the first person to find out if the bun was actually in the oven. I sat on the corner of the tub and averted my eyes. She went through the process and I felt like we were on one of those pregnancy test commercials.”
    When Jamie finished peeing, she put the stick on the sink, closed the toilet and sat on it. We looked at each other and smiled.
    “Hey, how’s it going in there?” Maura called, banging on the bathroom door.
    “C’mon!” Raj called.
    “Another minute,” Jamie yelled,