Page 145 of For Wrath and Redemption
“It’s fine. No, he doesn’t know. I’m about nine weeks. And I have no fucking idea.”
The room falls silent, and I feel the sting of tears once more.
“Sorry,” I say on a small laugh, running my fingers under my eyes. “Sorry, I’m really hormonal right now.”
“Babe, stop apologizing. We’re all a bunch of crybaby bitches here. You cry all you need.” Mabel throws her arm over my shoulders, and I lean into her before looking back at Sav.
“So, while I’m beyond flattered, now you know why working for Rock Loveless Records would be a bad idea.”
Sav purses her lips. “I think we need ice cream.”
She pushes to standing and crosses to my kitchen in four strides, then pulls open the freezer.
“Claire!” She turns back to me. “You have no ice cream?”
“I’m not an ice cream craving kind of pregnant person.”
She curls her upper lip. “Please don’t tell me you’re a pickle craving kind of pregnant person.”
“Pickles and mayonnaise. And those ranch flavored crinkly potato chips.”
Sav pauses, tilts her head to the side in consideration, and then shrugs. “I don’t hate it.” She ducks into the fridge. “Claire!” She turns around and holds up an empty pickle jar. “Claire Davis, you have no pickles.”
I laugh. “I know. I ran out this morning. I need to get to the store.”
“There’s a little bodega down the street, right?”
I glance at Callie and nod. “Yeah. Two blocks.”
She stands and walks to the door. “I’ll go with Red.”
“Red’s here? Where’s Red?” I look around the apartment as if that giant man could have gone undetected.
“He’s just downstairs,” Sav tells me, her voice muffled as she opens each of my cabinets. Then she turns to Callie. “Get some ice cream, too. And those ranch chips.”
“The crinkly ones!” I add quickly. “Only the crinkly ones. The others taste burnt.”
“On it. Be right back.”
After raiding my kitchen for bowls, spoons, and paper towels, then connecting her phone to my Bluetooth speaker to play her, as she put it, “happy bitch playlist,” Sav turns to study me with her hands on her hips. I sigh dramatically, then stand from the couch and take off the sweatshirt I was wearing. I turn to the side, lift my shirt, and smooth a hand down my stomach for good measure.
“Well, I’ll be damned.” Sav grins at me. “Your boobs got bigger, but you still have abs.”
I laugh. “My boobs hurt like hell, actually, but I probably won’tshow at all for a few more weeks. Oh, but...” I walk to the table and dig through my purse. “I have photo evidence.”
I wave the strip of ultrasound images in the air, and Sav grabs them from me. She studies each one, turning the photos around and tilting her head.
“What exactly am I looking at?”
Mabel laughs. “I said it looked like when my hamster had babies.”
“I’m told it’s a healthy nine-week-oldhumanfetus, but honestly, who knows at this point.” I lift my shirt and flatten my palms on my stomach. “Could it be a hamster? A burrito? An alien? I have no idea.”
Mabel leans closer to my stomach, then looks up at me. “Can it hear me?”
I shake my head. “It cannot.”
“Can you feel it move?”
