“You told those men of yours you’re preggo yet?”
I’d been to three doctors’ appointments with little miss chicken so far.
She sighs and sits down on the sofa. “I’m tempted to just wait and see when they notice.”
“To be fair on them, considering you’ve just hit your four-month mark, you’re not showing at all. You’ve had no morning sickness, and instead of being tired all the damn time, you’re like the energizer bunny on speed.”
“Don’t hate me ‘cause you’re jealous.”
“Oh no, I’m not jealous at all. I feel pissed on behalf of womankind, but otherwise, I’m good. I know some people are born to be mothers, but not me. I’m way too selfish for that. I like sleep. I don’t want to share my food or give certain types of it up—wait, haven’t they noticed you’ve stopped drinking coffee and beer?”
“I switched to decaf, so they haven’t noticed. And I told them that beer was giving me headaches, so I gave it up.”
I laugh. “You have an answer for everything. You know they’ll kill you when they find out you kept this from them.”
She grumbles and sighs. “I know. I was so worried about what I’d miss out on if they locked me down here that I forgot what they’re missing out on by not sharing my pregnancy with them.”
“Tell them today, then. Bite the bullet and get it over with before you wake up one night with a rounded belly and a lot of explaining to do.”
“I’ll tell them tonight. I want to go over to the center one last time. The contractors arrive tomorrow.”
“If you change your mind again, I might be forced to beat you.”
“I won’t,” she reassures me.
An hour later, standing in the room she first wanted as a chill-out room for the teenagers that would effectively be an adult-free zone, I feel like pulling my hair out. She’s lucky she’s pregnant.
“All I’m saying is that the basement is a much bigger space. We could split this room and use it as an office or a playroom for little ones.”
I close my eyes and sigh. “Let’s take a look at the basement again.”
I didn’t know it had a basement when we bought it. It certainly wasn’t something the realtor pointed out to us. I teased Mercy for weeks that there were probably dead bodies down here, and the realtor didn’t want to risk losing her commission by mentioning it. It turns out it wasn’t anything as exciting as that. It had a cold cement floor and drywall, with no windows. It was as inviting as a jail cell. The only thing going for it was an access door leading out to the extensive property. Currently, the room houses a small chest freezer, a washing machine, a bunch of old books, and a box of sad-looking Christmas decorations.
“All right, we’ll see what Ted says tomorrow. But you can talk to him. He’s less likely to want to throttle you.”
“Only because I’m nice to him.”
“I’m nice.”
“You told him you’d pop his eyeballs out of his skull and stomp on them.”
“He was looking at your ass and licking his lips like a creeper. Once this place is up and running and we have women living here, we are never having this guy back.”
“Actually, I contacted an all-female construction crew. They do a little bit of everything and are local to the area, though they travel for work. They are out of the country right now but said they’d love to help out in the future. And, given the cause, are happy to give us a discount.”
“What kind of discount?”
“The kind where we pay for the materials only.”
“Seriously? That’s pretty fucking cool of them.”
“I thought so too.”
The sound of heels clicking down the stairs has us both turning.
“You came!” Mercy squeals before running toward them.
The shorter of the two women reaches her first. She doesn’t look much older than Mercy, and where Mercy is blonde, this woman has thick, dark hair and a healthy tan. Beside her stands another blonde. She’s older and built more like me with lean, toned limbs, contrasting with the curves that grace Mercy and her friend.