Page 3 of Inevitably Yours

“I can’t really stomach OJ much anymore; it gives me heartburn. I just bought it out of habit and hoped that maybe I’ll hit a phase where it won’t raise a fire in my gut. I haven’t yet.” Stacy’s shoulders slumped. Gus reached for her. “What’s wrong, hon?”

“It’s just another way I’m lacking in the whole woman department. I have an amazing man and an awesome teenage daughter that I love more than life itself, but I don’t even know the basics of pregnancy. Of course, orange juice would give you heartburn. Women should know these things. I—”

“Seriously, you are turning in your ovaries over orange juice? What’s this really about, Stace? You’ve never been one to beat around the bush, so why now?”

“You’re right, Pixie. The thing is, I know I’m being ridiculous, but all y’all are so…motherly…for lack of a better term. You’re artificially knocked up, but knocked up all the same—”

“Geez, you make it sound so...beautiful.”

Stacy rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean—you’re knocked up, Walker and Erika have Willow, even Tori and Michael are actively trying to become parents.” At Gus’ questioning look, Stacy elaborated, “Oh yeah, and they have no qualms sharing all the details of their practice runs. I swear, as much as those two claim to be fucking, her uterus should have a quicker turnover rate than a by-the-hour hotel near the airport.”

Gus contained her amusement, hoping Stacy would get to the point quickly, so she could get back to her problem at hand. Apparently, pregnancy not only caused her jealousy to flare, but it made her selfish, too.

“It’s just that…I don’t want Macy to feel like she isn’t enough for us, which I don’t think she will or that being her step-mom isn’t fulfilling or that we want to replace—”

“But you and Dax want to try for a baby?”

“Yes, well, no. I mean, I told Dax no, but the truth is, I want it more than anything, I just, don’t know how.”

“Well, start with lingerie—”

A snort-laugh interrupted Gus. “That’s not what I mean, you smart ass bitch. I mean, I don’t know how to do the whole baby-momma thing. I’ve only ever had to come in and deal with a teenager. And so, I keep putting Dax off. And yes, before you say it, I know Macy would be thrilled at the idea. She is the most well-adjusted kid I know, hell, I know adults that aren’t as stable as she is. Really, I’m afraid I just don’t have that tender mom gene needed to have a baby. So, I guess I am using her as an excuse not to try.”

Augusta Rain Thorne shocked herself at the words that flew from her mouth in anger. “That’s fucking bullshit, Stacy, and we both know it. You have a bigger heart than anyone I know; you just pretend you're a hard-assed bitch. You’ve had to for so long, you’ve finally convinced yourself it’s fucking true. Listen to me, and you listen good. The Stacy I know doesn’t fear anything. She takes every challenge that comes her way and crushes it. If she wants to have a baby, she will, and no one will tell her otherwise. The Stacy I know will always find a way to have her cake and eat it too.”

When Gus took a pause to breathe a second round of hormone-fueled dragon fire at her friend, she let Stacy’s shock register. As it did, her hands flew to her mouth, and she mirrored Stacy’s reaction at the curse-laden rant she just spewed.

Stacy slow-clapped and whistled while Gus let her embarrassment settle over her like a cloak. She was not happy with her potty mouth, and she wasn’t thrilled to have lain into a friend who needed her compassion.

“Way to go, Pixie. No one else could say that to me and get away with it. Plus, no one else has a chance of it sinking in, either. But I hope that helps you realize, when I say we are more alike than you think, we are. And I am not talking about your language. Nice f-bombing by the way—well-spaced, perfect inflection, and precisely delivered.”

Stacy took Gus’ hands and looked her in the eye. “You talk about my heart, my determination, and need to protect myself, yet you don’t see those exact qualities in yourself. We’re the same, you and me. Two sides of the same coin, so to speak, we just don different masks to hide the same damn things.”

As the truth of Stacy’s words washed over Gus, it renewed her determination to go for what she wanted in life.

“Then, oh great and powerful shoe goddess, how do I take the mask off and get John to see me?”

“I’m not sure anymore, Pixie. My brother is as hard-headed as they come, with good reasons, of course, but those are his stories to tell, not mine. He values honesty above all else, so this furniture ploy would never work for him. He would see it as dishonest. You need to get him alone, look him in the eye and tell him how you feel, and then point-blank ask him if he wants you the same way you do him. Or you could write him a do-you-think-I’m-pretty note. Check yes or no.”

They shared a much-needed laugh, and Gus felt a little lighter than before, but the “his stories to tell” weighed on her. Everyone had stories, but it was the way Stacy said it that made her wonder if they were the kind of things that would be insurmountable.

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