I was upstairs in the studio, playing a bit of guitar. I'd decided it was long past time for a practice so I'd left Rollar downstairs and come up here.
I hadn't meant to flip on her like that yesterday, I really didn't. It had just... happened. And that was the problem.
I was sitting on a chair with my feet up on the speaker, playing a slow, slightly sad tune that didn't sound nearly so sad when played on an electric guitar. I was very distracted as I played, switching into automatic.
Movement caught my eye and I looked up, finding Rollar stood in the doorway holding the phone.
"It's for you," she said.
"Who is it?" I asked, stopping and sitting up straighter.
"He said his name's Carter."
"Oh," I said, my mood instantly lighter at the thought of speaking to Carter.
She handed me the phone and left, shutting the door behind her.
"Hey," I said, smiling.
"Are you alright?" Carter asked immediately.
"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"
"I heard what you were playing," he said quietly.
My smiled fell and neither of us said anything for a while.
"I'm fine," I murmured, fiddling with the strap of my guitar.
I almost told him about the incident with Rollar yesterday, and what we'd done the other night. I didn't though. I know he'd drive over here straight away and drag me to a psych hospital.
"I have a girlfriend," I muttered.
He paused for a moment. "A girlfriend? For how long?"
"Not that long. Thing is though, Cart... she's pregnant."
He paused again, thinking about this. "Is it yours?" he asked.
"What do you think?"
"Most likely..." he said softly.
Carter was well aware that I very rarely used contraception; he'd been my boyfriend for seven months and long-term lover for double that.
"How are you handling that?" he asked gently.
"Okay, I s'pose," I murmured--it wasn't that which was bothering me really.
"She picked up the phone," I told him, grateful to change the subject, kind of.
"Oh. She seems... nice."
"She is. I love her, Carter. And she loves me, by some miracle."
"It's not a miracle, J," he breathed. "It's very easy to love you."
I sat quietly, letting his words roll around my mind.
"I'm sorry, Carter. This must be a difficult topic," I said quietly.
"No, it's fine. Are you ready to leave for your appointment?" he asked, changing so suddenly.
I hesitated, confused. I frowned. "What appointment?"
"Shit, I must have forgotten to tell you: you have an appointment with Dr. Browne in an hour."
"What?!" I sat up quickly.
"Sorry, Jaimie, I forgot. It's been hell here recently."
"It's okay," I said while placing my guitar in its stand and hurrying from the room. I rushed into the hall and began putting on my shoes. "And this is why I shouldn't have relied on you as my housewife for four years," I muttered, mainly to myself.
"You have no sense of responsibility, J, someone needs to do it for you," he laughed gently.
I shook my head slightly. "I hate you sometimes."
He laughed. "I hate you sometimes too."
"Bye, Jaimie," he said before hanging up.
I practically threw the phone onto the side table in the hall. I grabbed my coat and turned to find Rollar stood in the doorway to the living room.
"I have an appointment," I said, kissing the corner of her mouth briefly before racing out of the house towards the car.