This was something I never really spent a lot of time thinking about.
Thankfully, the nausea hadn’t gotten any worse as the pregnancy progressed. At six weeks pregnant, it was still there, but I grew used to what I now considered a low-alert need to vomit. I knew that I was lucky, because some women had horrific morning sickness. From what I gathered the day I’d found out Avery was pregnant, she was one of those pour souls who spent the better part of the afternoon hurling.
My mom was convinced my pregnancy would be like hers—relatively easy—and I hoped that was the case. Maybe if I didn’t miss any time leading up to when I’d need maternity leave, my boss wouldn’t flip a lid as much.
But that didn’t mean Mom wasn’t worried. When I had chatted with her on Saturday, she tentatively asked if I’d given any thought to the future and if I was making any plans. The question jarred me. Beyond keeping the baby and working at getting to know Nick better and possibly being with him, I hadn’t made any plans outside of my doctor’s first appointment.
When Mom realized this, she told me that I had time, but there was no mistaking the underlying thread of worry in her voice, and that anxiety transformed over to me. What was I missing? I made my first appointment. I was taking prenatal vitamins and eating the right foods.
Well, I was also eating some wrong foods, but the struggle was really with my Cheez-It Party Mix.
Obviously, I hadn’t picked up a single drink since I found out, and I’d cut way back on the caffeine intake. But what else could I plan? It was too early to get obsessed with baby clothes or to start picking out baby furniture.
And the thought of baby furniture led to another major stressor.
Where in the world would I put a crib and all that jazz? In my walk-in closet? That sounded like child neglect or something.
As I drove to meet up with Katie and Roxy on Sunday morning, I came to the shaky realization that I was going to have to move again. I needed a two-bedroom. Maybe not immediately, but my one-bedroom wasn’t big enough to have everything the baby would need. I could afford a two-bedroom, but it would be stretching it. Definitely not comfortably.
But I wasn’t alone.
I remembered that as I parked the car, my grip easing on the steering wheel. Even our relationship never progressed beyond the physical, Nick would help me—help us.
The panic receded as I briskly walked toward the restaurant, chin down against the chill. Katie and Roxy were in their normal seats, and I joined them, rubbing my hands together to burn away the chill.
“I was wondering if you got lost.” Katie arched a blond brow.
I shot her a look. “I’m wondering if you know how cold it is outside.”
Roxy laughed as she eyed Katie’s getup. The latter was wearing magenta—not purple, but really magenta—colored overalls. Underneath them was a sparkly baby blue sports bra.
“Do they make sports bras with sparkles?” I asked.
“What? I wish. Do you know how much easier my life would be?” Katie stuck out a glossy bottom lip. “I spend at least an hour a day bedazzling shit and using a hot glue gun.”
My brows rose as I exchanged a look with Roxy.
“I’ve had severe hot glue gun burns. In places you do not even want to know about.”
“Wait.” Roxy pushed her glasses up. “I do want to know.”
I wasn’t sure I did.
“Sometimes you have to be wearing the clothes to make sure the embellishments look right,” Katie explained, quite seriously. “It’s not like they sell bathing suits with diamonds organized in the shape of a cock on the ass.”
My jaw unhinged, and immediately I pictured those bottoms and knew I’d never get that out of my head. Ever.
“Okay then.” Roxy smacked her hands off the table and quickly changed the subject. Drinks arrived and then our food was placed down. The steam was still rising off my omelet when Roxy’s shrewd gaze landed on me. “So what’s going on with you and Nick?”
I paused, a forkful of eggs and peppers halfway to my mouth. Roxy and I texted on and off, and she stopped over if I was home when she was visiting Reece, but I hadn’t talked to her about Nick or about the pregnancy. I wanted to, boy did I ever want to, because I wanted to tell someone other than Nick or my mom, but Roxy worked with Nick, and that changed things.
“What do you mean, what’s going on?” I asked.
Katie stabbed a piece of sausage. “What she means is that Nick hasn’t hooked up with another chick since you strolled into Mona’s.”
Thank God I’d swallowed my food, because I was sure I would’ve choked upon hearing Katie’s blunt remark, but a deep, almost unsettling relief uncoiled in the pit of my stomach. Whether Nick was still messing around with other people was something I hadn’t allowed myself to even think about. A tiny part of me hadn’t thought he was, but there were no labels between us, and even though he was attracted to me and we were linked together by this baby, that didn’t mean he was settling down.
Roxy smiled slightly as she picked up a piece of bacon. “I can see that you’re happy to hear that.”
I opened my mouth, about to deny it, but suddenly I was tired of pretending. And that’s what I was doing. It was bigger than just letting my friends in, sharing my life with them. Sooner or later they were going to find out the truth.
Nervousness made my stomach queasy. I wasn’t sure how they’d respond to what I was going to tell them. I also wasn’t sure how Nick would really respond, when it got down to it. “We have . . . stayed in touch,” I said.