Page 55 of Possession

“Which may possibly fall around the time of your delivery. What are you five or six months along, Megan?”

“Almost six, but I have recently left my job and have nothing but time to work on the piece. It should be finished well before I deliver the baby.”

My cell phone rings and I’m startled by the name on the screen.

LYING BITCH

Naomi.

“Do you need to take that?” Miss Lord asks, reading the surprised look on my face.

“Um, if you don’t mind?”

“Please, go right ahead. Take your time. I’ll be here enjoying my lunch.”

I’m not even sure why I decided to take the call. I haven’t seen or spoken to Naomi since I snuck out of the motel. Not once did she call to see if I was alive or dead. I mean, what am I supposed to do with that type of betrayal? Nevertheless, I rise and head outside to the front of the restaurant to answer her call. I guess I’m more curious about what she has to say than angry.

“Hello?”

“Megan.”

Her voice is not at all Naomi-like. It’s small and sad, and it breaks my heart.

“Are you in trouble?” I ask her, concerned that things may have gotten dangerous for her.

“I’ve been in trouble since the moment I was born.”

“Where are you?”

“New Orleans.”

“Why are you calling me, Naomi?”

She pauses for a moment before she answers. “I’m sorry, Megan. I’ve been a horrible friend to you.”

I hear a soft, muffled cry. It’s a strange sound because now that I think about it, I’ve never heard Naomi cry before.

“You’re right. You have been,” I tell her, not mincing any words. Her tears do not absolve her.

“I realize it’s selfish of me to bother you with this, and after all that has happened, I should be grateful that you’ve bothered to pick up the phone, but I can’t do this, Megan. I have to get out of here–”

I stop her.

“Naomi, I’m pregnant and in a meeting right now. I don’t have the bandwidth for whatever is happening with you and your daddy. I just don’t.”

Her soft cries escalate into full-blown sobs. “I cannot marry Gabriel.”

“Then don’t.”

“I have to.”

“Then marry him!” I say, exasperated with the nerve of this phone call. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

“There are so many worse things, Megan. You have no idea.”

“I think I have some idea,” I answer snidely. “Kidnapping a pregnant woman from in front of her home is a pretty shitty thing to do. Your father is a piece of work, and his henchman is no saint either. I think that dude truly wanted to hurt me.”

“Imagine being around him your whole life?”

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