Page 175 of Tell Me What You Want, Or Leave Me

“At your house?”

Alarmed, Eric takes my wrist.

“Jude, don’t draw any conclusions.”

“Did you have lunch with Fosqui? With the constipated poodle?”

Björn lets out a laugh.

“Fosqui? You call her the constipated poodle?”

But Eric isn’t laughing, especially when I start to walk toward the sports center exit.

“We didn’t eat at his house,” he says. “We ate at a restaurant, Jude.”

“I know very well what you do at his house.” And then I turn to Björn. “And you, you bad friend, how could you allow it?”

Stunned, Björn is about to respond when Eric interrupts.

“Sweetheart, will you calm down? Nothing happened. We went to the restaurant next to Björn’s house. I wanted to ask Agneta for advertising contacts to put the company on TV.”

It doesn’t matter—he’s already put me in a horrible mood. I’m furious.

“Dickheads! You are two dickheads!”

They look at each other. Björn’s astonished.

“There goes our day,” Eric mutters.

His comment makes me even angrier, and I start walking away again.

“Listen, chubs,” says Björn, anticipating me. “Don’t do this. Eric came to pick me up. Then Agneta arrived, and five minutes later, we went out and grabbed a bite at a restaurant while we talked about Müller’s advertising. Why don’t you believe us?”

When he goes to hold me, I slap his hands away.

“First, I’m letting you call me chubs because I’m pregnant, but once I stop being pregnant, if you ever say it again, I’ll break your legs. Second, I don’t give three shits what you do with your poodle, and, believe it or not, I know Eric hasn’t done squat with that...that...” Then I turn to Eric. “Third, why didn’t you just tell me you’d had a meal with her?”

“Fuck, you really are in a state,” says Björn.

Eric exchanges glances with his friend.

“You were angry that day and didn’t want to talk. That’s why I didn’t tell you. But, please, don’t get it in your head that this woman, Björn, and I have anything going because it’s not true, all right?”

I close my eyes. I know he’s right, and, getting close to him, I put my head on his chest.

“Don’t ever let me get pregnant again. I’m going crazy.”

Eric smiles. He hugs me.

“I’m going home with Jude,” he tells Björn. “Good luck with the poodle!”

30

I’m getting so big!

I can’t see my feet anymore! Never mind all the other things that are lost from view.

I’m wearing panties that look like they’re from the Victorian era. According to the salesclerks, they’re panties for pregnant women, but, according to me, they’re like turtlenecks for my groin. Is it possible to be sexy while pregnant? With these panties that come all the way up to my tits, the answer is a definite no.

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