Page 75 of Wild for You
“Well, it’s not like you would’ve taken no for an answer …” I sneer.
“Oh, stop, just because I hacked into your work calendar and blocked off time—”
“After hours!” Maggie adds.
“Yeah, well, Sandra’s been demanding as hell, and it appears that the office indeed cannot function without me, so …”
“You’re pushing yourself too hard, Gwenny.” Maggie scans me up and down, her expression concerned.
“Yeah, Gwen, we’re really worried about you,” Elliot adds.
“Listen, I’m not the first woman in history to work a stressful job while pregnant, nor will I be the last. The world doesn’t revolve around me and my problems, and it’s naïve to believe it ever would.” I pause when I see the waitress come into view to take our drink orders.
“Hey there, ladies. We’re running a two-for-one special tonight on Pina Coladas. What can I get you all to drink?”
“Ooh, I love a good Pina Colada!” Elliot claps her hands together. “I’ll have that, and could you give me extra pineapple on the side. Ohh, and a cherry on top, please!” Her eyes glimmer with excitement over the smallest things. It’s one of my favorite things about Elliot. My ears grow hot, and I don’t know if I’m angry or sad. Somewhere along the way, the two feelings seem to have fused together in my body, and I can’t trust my basic feelings anymore. Everything is amplified by hormones. There’s no way Elliot could have known how painful of a reminder that drink could be for me, but damn, I feel like I’ve just torn open some of the stitches around my fragile heart.
“I’ll just have a glass of red wine, please.” Maggie passes the menu back to the server. “Oh, and could we please get two orders of fried pickles for the table?”
I take a calming breath. It’s as if Maggie can read my mind.
“And how about for you, miss?” The young server’s innocent eyes meet mine, and even though she just needs my drink order, I feel like she’s asking me something else entirely.
I pause for a moment, considering my options. I can’t drink alcohol. I don’t want soda … I close the menu and pass it back to her, deciding why not let myself relive one of my favorite memories. “I’ll take a virgin Pina Colada with extra coconut, please.”
“Very well, I’ll just put in these drink orders and be right back with your fried pickles and some waters.” The server takes our menus and leaves, no one realizing the gigantic step I just took in letting myself think back to the beautiful moment where Jack and I very well could have created a new life.
I swirl my fingers around each other, contemplating sharing the story, but when she places the frozen drink in front of me, I take one sip and decide to keep this memory to myself. It’s too special.
“So, when will your apartment be ready?” Elliot asks as she chomps down on the best fried pickles in Chicago, a new discovery on my part; kudos to Maggie for paying attention.
“The first of the month,” I answer.
“You know, if you ever get tired of sleeping on Maggie’s sofa, Benjamin and I would be happy to host you in one of our guest rooms.”
Elliot is sweet to offer, and now that her in-laws aren’t staying with her anymore, I should probably take her up on it. But there’s just something so cozy about Maggie’s place. I think it’s all the plants or the big windows. I feel like I’m outside, so it’s not so stuffy like most buildings in the city. It’s a new quirk I’ve noticed about myself. Ever since I’ve been back, I feel so trapped when I’m inside buildings.
“Thank you for the offer. I’ll let you know if I change my mind.” I shove a dripping hot fried pickle in my mouth, and my eyes roll back in my head at the salty explosion of flavor. “Damn, food tastes so much better. It’s unreal.”
“When do you go back to the doctor?” Maggie asks, interrupting my foodgasm.
“Um, I’m not sure. I think next week or so?”
“You’ve still been taking your prenatal vitamins, though, right?”
“Yes, mom.” I drag out, rolling my eyes in defense. Maggie seems to have made my prenatal health her top order of concern.
“I still can’t believe you’re having a baby!” Elliot squeezes my hand, and I force out a smile.
I’m so thankful for her eternal optimism. The truth is, I’ve struggled with my decision, going back and forth, contemplating all my options. I’ve even been looking into open adoptions as of late because who knows where life could take me. Of course, I’m not going to tell her that just yet.
Elliot and Benjamin are three weeks away from getting married. This is the most exciting time of her life, and I don’t want to be a Debbie Downer with the raincloud over my head everywhere I go. No, this is not anyone’s concern but my own. I won’t let Jack’s silence impact any decisions I make because, at the end of the day, I’m the one who has to live with myself and my choices.
“So, Elliot’s bachelorette party is this weekend, and I was thinking maybe we could do a spa night at home?” Maggie says, and my ears perk up, listening intently for any indication that Jack may be there. “We could order a pizza, watch some chick flicks, and maybe even have a massage therapist set up at my place?”
“That sounds amazing!” Elliot claps, “Maggie, will you please make the special brownies? Just a small batch this time? Oh, and can we watchHorrible Bosses? I know we’ve seen it like fifty times already, but it’s my favorite!” she screeches, and my left eye waters in response.
The pregnancy hormones just keep coming for me.
