He answers on the second ring. "Ariel?" His voice drips with concern. "Are you okay?"
Oh. People don't call their exes for recipe tips. Maybe I should ask to talk to his sister. No, that would be worse. I think. "It's not that kind of call."
"Oh." His exhale is heavy.
"I was wondering…" Actually, it is that kind of call. "Well, um, I was wondering how much mint you put in your spring rolls."
His voice is incredulous. "Mom or Becks would know better."
"I couldn't call."
"Becks asks about you all the time." He calls his sister by her English name. She stopped going by her Vietnamese name last year. It took forever to get used to calling Van Rebecca, but I have the hang of it. "She'd love to hear from you."
"Yeah?" Rebecca is a sweet kid. And the opposite of Phillip. Loud, bubbly, excited. "I thought she—"
"Calls me an idiot every day for ending things."
"Oh." My heart warms. I miss her too. "That sounds exactly like her."
His laugh is easy. The way it was when we were together.
I miss that. The easiness. The familiarity. That feeling of his family being mine and mine being his (even if Forest and Holden never really believed he was good enough for me).
The line goes quiet for a moment. Finally, he asks, "Is that it?"
"Well…" Yes. No. Maybe. I want to talk to him. More than I should. But then he was the most important person in my life for a long time. "How are you?"
"Honestly, Ariel, I miss you. It's hard. But I know—are you still pursuing that?"
"Yeah."
"Is it… happening?"
My teeth sink into my lip. I want to tell him. I want to tell someone. And I want to tell Phillip. It might upset him, but it's worse if he hears it from someone else. "You sure you want to hear—"
"Yeah."
"And you can keep a secret?"
"Who am I going to tell?"
My laugh is soft. I miss him. I miss knowing he loved me. I miss having a best friend. "I'm pregnant."
"Fuck."
"Only five weeks. So it's still… but I… It's good. I… uh, are you sure you want to hear this?"
He's quiet for a minute. "I wish things had been different. But… I'm happy for you, Ariel. You're gonna be a great mom."
"Thank you." A tear wells in my eyes. Stupid hormones. My emotions are in overdrive. "I…" I can't say he'd be a great dad. He would. But that's a different life. One that isn't mine.
"A white guy?" he asks.
"Oh my God, Phil."
"Everyone knows mixed kids are cuter."
My laugh is big. Hearty. "You're not supposed to say that."