Page 44 of There Are No Words

Bianca bounced back. “Oooh, I love when you’re responsible for the food.” She dropped down on the hardwood and started helping Maria dig through the bags.

I wanted to walk over to see what she brought because, lately, I was always in the mood to eat, but I couldn’t hold my urine. “You guys do this. I’ve got to go pee,” I said and all but ran to the guest bath on the first floor.

* * *

I peed! Now where were we?

Oh, that was right. . . food.

I ran out to find my sisters in the living room, sleeping bags spread out all over the place, Perla’s horrible taste in music blasting, and snack bowls littering every available surface in the place. This was just like when we were teenagers. And I was so glad we were doing this. For so many reasons, but mostly because I liked these times with my sisters.

“Woah! You were thorough with the snacks, Maria,” I shouted to be heard over the music and tugged off my sweatshirt, revealing a lacy satin top that would soon be a crop top at the rate my baby bump was growing.

“Oooh, Momma’s getting use out of her sexy jammies before she wears burp cloths,” Bianca teased while Maria moved to lower the music.

I nodded. “I might as well.” I reached for a licorice and waved it in the air as I spoke. “I am so glad we did this, you guys. Thanks for dropping everything tonight.”

Munching on popcorn, Maria got up to get a bottle of water and said, “Not just tonight. Tomorrow, too.”

I had no idea. I looked around and was met with nods from Bianca and Perla, who was wearing the cutest knit pajama pants ever. I needed a pair just like them. “For real? I can’t believe it.”

Maria smiled. “It’s true. We figured we could do a little shopping tomorrow. You know, you’re going to need new clothes soon.”

“You don’t like the way I wear my jeans with the button open?” I laughed.

Perla popped a piece of popcorn in her mouth and tucked her feet under her. “Don’t worry, maternity fashion isn’t so bad.”

I shook my head because she didn’t get it. “I’m actually excited about maternity clothes. I love knowing that Baby is getting bigger.” I put my hand on my belly and looked down to where my daughter was growing. “I only wish Maria had kept her maternity stuff.” But Perla mentioning the fashion had given me an idea. “Although, Bibi, can you design maternity clothes for me?”

Bianca gasped, holding a hand to her chest. “First of all, I’m honored. Second, not really my thing, sorry. But if you ever decide to tie the knot, I’ve got you covered when it comes to your wedding dress.”

I stuck my tongue out at her. “So, basically, you suck.” Really, what was the point of her being a designer now if she couldn’t design me something amazing when I needed it? Besides, how different were wedding dresses from regular clothes? Okay, maybe a lot, but that wasn’t the point.

Bianca laughed and I plopped down on the couch, crossing my legs under me. “I wish Mom was here,” I confessed, giving voice to the one thing I’d kept thinking since I’d peed on the stick and my life changed.

Bianca munched on a chocolate-covered pretzel. “I can imagine.” She sighed. “I miss Mom, too. All the time. You guys know that.”

I stood up and smiled. “Okay, I have an idea! Let’s go up to the attic and see if we can find Mom’s old stuff from when she was pregnant. I remember her telling you, Maria, that she kept some of her things when you had Isabella.” I grabbed Maria’s hand. “I really need this, guys,” I pleaded when no one moved. I tugged on Maria’s arm and tried again—“Please.”

“The attic?” Bianca whined. “I lived here until recently and always tried to avoid it. Who wants to spend their time in an attic? It’s like something straight out of a horror film.”

Perla laughed but stood up and pulled Bianca to her feet, too. “Come on. If Allie wants to do this, then we’re doing it.”

“Couldn’t you want to watch a movie like we usually do? Preferably a rom-com where the heroine is ballsy and the man is suave,” Bianca probed, wagging her eyebrows.

I shook my head. “We can do that later,” I promised and grabbed the bag of licorice.

Bianca sighed and took the bowl of chocolate-covered pretzels. “Fine, but these are coming with me.”

* * *

I protected my bag of licorice, laying it down gently on a small end table that had clearly been relegated to the attic in the eighties with its retro style that I couldn’t see Mom having—ever.

“This isn’t so bad,” I said, looking around at the mass of stuff my parents had accumulated over the years. They weren’t hoarders. They just clearly didn’t like to part with a lot of things. It was like our parents’ dirty little secret—the attic from hell.

In some ways, it felt like the attic should’ve been atop another family’s house and not ours. It just didn’t fit.

“Look, the lamp Grams gave Mom when she visited!” Perla pointed out, lifting it up and surveying it. “I really don’t know what she was thinking with this thing.”

---