“We’ll get her what she needs.”
“She needs space. Outdoors. Room to run.”
Bits of carrots fly out of Matilda’s mouth as she chomps.
“Are you saying we have to leave here? That I have to give up my place for a goat?”
“So now she’s just ‘a goat’ again? Now that she’s pregnant and too much trouble?” Lucy’s voice becomes high and strident.
Mine rises to match. “She dumped her loads off the edge of the balcony on purpose.”
“She’s adapting to her situation the only way she knows how!”
“She’s an animal. She does what we say.”
“She’s not an animal! She’s Matilda!” Lucy tugs on the goat’s neck, but without a collar or lead, she can’t make any headway on pulling her away from the carrots. Then she sucks in a breath and holds her belly.
My anger instantly drains. “Contractions?”
“No, it’s the stupid belly pains. They never end! This ridiculousness never ends!”
I want to reach out for her, but Matilda is firmly ensconced on my lap. By the time I extricate myself from the carrots and the goat, Lucy has run to her old guest room and slammed the door.
Well, this is great. Just great.
31
LUCY
Isleep through the early afternoon, but when I wake up, I don’t feel much better.
I have messages from April and Summer, responses from the teary text I sent after I left Court and Matilda on the sofa. They hadn’t responded right away, so I fell asleep.
I read over what I wrote.
Me: Matilda’s pregnant too! And the apartment building is looking for the illegal animal. Court could get evicted! I think I have to leave New York! I don’t know what to do!
April: You would leave Court?
Summer: It’s been like two weeks. They barely know each other. You do what’s right for you.
April: Says the girl who eloped in Vegas after four weeks.
Summer: Touché.
April: She’s going to have three mouths to feed!
Summer: There’s nothing for two of them to eat in that concrete jungle!
April: There’s parks.
Summer. There’s poisonous plants. And rats.
April: Lucy?
Summer: Lucy?
I hold my phone for a moment, trying to figure out what to say.