Page 99 of Who's Playing You
The PITA sister:
It’s your life - do what you want. IDGAF. But I DO care what happens to Scottie because she’s in deep, alright? And I have a feeling if you fuck this up with her, that it has the potential to really hurt her. I’m trying to avoid that. So for HER sake, just talk to her. That’s all I’m saying.
The PITA sister:
Also, I’d hate to go to prison for having to do you bodily harm if you hurt her. So there’s also that.
You seem to have a lot of opinions.
The PITA sister:
Whatever Nick. Do what you want.
And with that Nat stopped texting me, but I was fuming. I didn’t need anyone butting into my relationship with Scottie. It was ours. No one else’s. I’d worked too hard, for too many years, to get us to where we were.
And now Nat came in here saying I needed to talk to Scottie about our future nuptials and family? Fuck that shit.
I’d already made my intentions to Scottie very clear. I was ALL in. That meant marriage and everything that that promised.
As for starting a family… yeahhhh. I guess Nat had a point on that front. Scottie and I hadn’ttechnicallytalked about having kids - not yet at least. I knew she and Earl had had some issues, and after some “detective” work on my part, I found out that Earl was a fucking liar.
Color me surprised.
I figured Scottie and I would let that conversation happen naturally, like it happens in most relationships as the relationship progresses. First you date, get to know one another and then you move forward to the next steps. At some point you talk about long-term stuff, marriage and children.
Scottie and I were working towards all of that.
But I also knew that with my recent efforts to get her pregnant, that she and I would be having that very conversation, very soon.
God willing.
44
SCOTTIE ANDERSON
As I sat in the hospital waiting room of the Women’s Breast Imaging Center, clutching the hospital gown to cover the dreaded front opening, I could feel every beat of my heart.
This was my worst nightmare.
My biggest fear.
The possibility - therealpossibility - of breast cancer.
And I had a really real possibility of developing it.
My birth mother had done a number of things for me, the biggest solid she’d done was to leave a rather detailed medical history to accompany me through life, a life she wouldn’t be a part of.
Yeahhh, that’s right. Not only was I adopted but I was also an orphan.
My mom had arranged the adoption as well and picked, as best she could, a family for me. A family that desperately wanted a child.
My adoptive parents had been nice enough people and had treated me well - enough. But it was always blatantly obvious that I was an adopted child. Unlike their “real” first child, which came a year and a half after they adopted me. Followed in quicksuccession with two other kids within three years of their first “real” child.
I guess I’d been what they’d needed to fix their fertility issues, apparently that was a thing, too. There were quite a few instances of people not being able to conceive, only to adopt and then miraculously conceive their own biological children. In some cases it was something to do with stress.
But it was all fine.
I grew up in a somewhat rural area, one that was real wholesome. My adoptive family was pretty wholesome too. My parents weren’t rich, but I never went without. I got a good education, and ultimately got a full scholarship to my dream college. And when I went off to college, I’d met Nat.
