Page 94 of Space Balls: Houston, We Have Liftoff
“Thanks, Marty.”
“No problem, Miss West.” He stands next to Doug, both frowning at my van’s packed interior. “We’ll have this sorted in no time.”
I reach out to help, but Martin shoos me away. “Doug and I will bring your purchases up to you and park the car in the garage.”
“You sure?” I feel bad, but also, I’ve been doing retail therapy all week. I thought it would help, but my heart is still as sore as my feet are from my marathon of shopping.
“Yes.” Martin isn’t even looking at me now, completely absorbed with Tetris-ing my boxes and bags onto the cart.
“Okay, thanks guys.” And even though I’m not supposed to, I slip them both a fifty in their pockets when their hands are full.
When I turn to head into the building, I’m barricaded by my friends.
“We need to talk, sugar.” Trish, ever the diplomat, smiles. It’s a smile you give a wounded animal when you’re not sure if they’re going to bite your head off or not.
“Yeah, this week has fucking sucked.” Jules, evernotthe diplomat, crosses her arms over her chest.
“Because it’s all about you,” I reply straight-faced.
Not looking at us, Jackie reaches out and touches the van, as if trying to analyze each glitter particle. “I think what Jules means is that avoiding Vance has become a logistical problem at work. Not to mention the moral and emotional implications of keeping a secret from a colleague and friend.”
“I was afraid I’d let something slip, so I drove the Airstream to Myra’s trailer park and parked it, telling Ian I was going on a writing retreat,” Trish adds. “I mean, it kind of is since I’m just holed up in there writing all day, but still, I’d rather be home.”
“Oh,” I say, chastised. I’d been so busy in my own world I hadn’t thought about how my friends were dealing with my baby news.
Jackie turns to me, looking annoyed at my lack of forethought. “You also stopped taking our calls, so we didn’t know when or how the talk with Vance went about the fetus development.” She pushes up her glasses. “Which bring us back to the avoidance issue.”
Jules pinches the bridge of her nose. “Fetus, Jackie? Really?”
Seeing as Martin and Doug are hefting a cow print car seat and boxes of diapers out of the van, I’m sure the fact that I’m pregnant is not going to shock them. However, I don’t necessarily want to discuss my baby daddy drama out in the middle of the street. “Come on, bitches.” I push between them. “Let’s go upstairs.”
The elevator ride is quiet. Mostly because Jules and I are trying hard not to laugh at Mrs. Smalls, my elderly neighbor on the sixteenth floor with the flatulence problem that she likes to blame on her equally ancient dog, Gilda. I don’t know whether to be glad or disgusted for the small reprieve.
When my neighbor and her dog get off on their floor, Mrs. Smalls crop dusting with each step, the stench remains as the elevator doors close again. Trish is almost blue from holding her breath.
Finally, we reach the top floor, stumbling out into the small security foyer and gasping for clean air.
Unlocking the front door, I walk inside and kick off my sandals.
“Gol-ly.That poor woman.” Trish, one step behind me, freezes in the doorway when she notices the changes to my apartment.
“Poor woman my ass.” Jules pushes past Trish, still waving her hand in front of her nose. “It’s the dog I feel sorry—” She also freezes. “What the hell happened here?”
Jackie peers between them, rocking forward on her toes. “Are you moving?”
I set my purse down on the automatic baby food masticator. “No.” I look around at all the stuff I bought in two days, my twenty-five hundred square foot penthouse looking cramped. “Well, maybe.” Vance’s mother’s house, in the family friendly neighborhood with a fenced-in backyard, comes to mind. Me, instead of Helen, sitting at the head of the table filled with family.
I take a deep breath through my nose.
“Are you moving in with Vance?” Jackie asks, probably thinking that is the next logical step.
Trish claps her hands in front of her, looking hopeful.
“No.” My voice is monotone. “We broke up.”
This is met with silence until Jules cracks her knuckles. “Did that asshole call it off after you told him about the baby?”
All three sets of eyes bore into me as I rub my foot back and forth over the soft fibers my rug.
