“Told you already, baby. No need to thank me. This is what we do. We’re there for each other. No questions asked. Now, go have dinner with your sisters and eat all the things.”
I hang up and drop my phone into my purse. I don’t take the time to check my appearance in the visor mirror before opening my door. Grace will just be even more irritated if I take another five seconds.
“Yes?”
“You’re so selfish, Ashley. I’ve been standing here for like twenty minutes.”
“Two, actually, and no one told you to wait for me.”
She huffs and spins on her sky-high heels before stomping toward the restaurant. She looks impeccable as always. A black pencil skirt and white sleeveless blouse tucked into the high waist. She must have come straight from the office. I’m sure she was wearing a blazer over her blouse earlier to complete the look of buttoned-up professional lawyer.
I used to think she dressed this way to intimidate people but now I think that’s just her preferred attire. It’s a lot different than my lavender tunic that I used to wear pre-pregnancy but is flowy enough that it doubles as a maternity top, a simple pair of black leggings, and a pair of flip-flops. The weather might be bearable this summer, but I’m still seven months pregnant and I have no desire to cram my feet into actual shoes if I don’t have to.
“After you,” I say sarcastically under my breath because unlike her, I’m not here to start a fight.
“It’s sweltering out there,” she gripes to me when we’re inside the restaurant in the air conditioning.
“It’s actually not,” I argue. She shoots me a glare because she doesn’t appreciate when people don’t agree with her. “What? It’s a gorgeous day and I’m not going to sit here and listen to you bitch and moan about it.”
“What’s gotten into you?”
Nik is the first thing that comes to my head, but I don’t say that. I simply shrug. If I told her that Nik was changing me, she’d only bring up all the past relationships that I’ve changed my personality for. But this time it’s different. Nik is different. I don’t know if we’re technically in a relationship or not, but I don’t want to be with anyone else and the way he acts, I don’t think he does, either.
And the ways he’s changing me are for the better. It’s not about conforming to who he wants me to be. He’s challenging me to stand up for myself, to learn what I like best about me and what I want out of life. He makes sure that when I agree to anything — be it what show to watch, what to have for dinner, what radio station to listen to, or anything else — that I’m agreeing because that’s what I want, not what I think he wants to hear.
It’s been both challenging and refreshing.
I’ve learned a lot about myself in the past six months I’ve been spending with Nik. For instance, I really, really, hate spin classes. I used to bust my ass on a stationary bike, sweating my ass off and almost falling down after getting off that tiny little seat while I was with Zachary because he encouraged me to try it. So I kept going because he said he was proud of me.
Turns out, I’m not a fan.
Plenty of people love it and that’s great for them.
Me? Not so much. It’s hell. Literal. Hell. I’d rather do yoga or, you know, sit on my ass and eat junk food all night but still manage to stay in shape. That would be great.
“Is Lucy here yet?”
“Of course she is. Lucy’s never late,” she says, so high and mighty. What a snob. Ugh. This dinner is supposed to be fun and relaxing. Just the three of us enjoying a good meal but Grace is already throwing around her attitude. It makes me want to leave right now, not even sticking around for the delicious food I know I’ll get to eat soon.
“Whatever,” I mumble.
“Good teenage word there, Ashley. Sounds real classy.” Grace chides. “Your little blue-collar boyfriend like it when you talk like that? Probably does. Makes him feel right at home.” I stare at her slack-jawed as we wait for the hostess to bring us to Lucy. When did she become so condescending?
As we walk to our table, I count to ten in my head to calm myself down. I was already on edge about tonight’s dinner but Grace’s snide comments aren’t helping. I’ve always known Grace thought a lot of herself, but it never seemed like she thought down on others.
We take our seats at the table and an awkward silence surrounds us. I sit quietly, absorbing Grace’s snotty comments about Nik. What was that about? The way she called him blue-collar was clearly an insult. I’ve never known Grace to think less of anyone no matter their employment.
“What’s going on here?” Lucy asks, pointing between us. It’s not surprising that she’d notice the tension. We didn’t even greet her or give her a hug, we just sat down. “Neither of you even said hi to me and Ashley looks like she just sucked on a lemon.”
Ignoring Lucy, I focus my attention on miss high and mighty herself. “You know that Nik owns his company, right?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You called him blue-collar earlier, like that was such a bad thing. He loves being an electrician. Who cares if he wouldn’t be caught dead sitting behind a desk for a living, why is that reason to insult him?”
Grace rolls her eyes. “I wasn’t insulting him, Ashley. You’re just being sensitive.”
She opens her menu, brushing me off.
“You were, too, and I am not.”
Lucy hits the table to gain our attention. “Guys. What’s going on?”
“Ask Grace. She’s the one who’s been a snobby bitch since we got here.”
“Now who’s being insulting?” Grace snaps. “I wasn’t saying anything that wasn’t true.”
“You called Nik my “little blue-collar boyfriend” after making fun of me saying the word whatever.”
“Whatever is a childish word.”
“Whatever!” I emphasize the word by throwing my hands in the air.
Lucy looks at Grace with wide eyes. “Did you really say that?”
“Is it a lie?”
“Sometimes it’s in the tone you use, Grace. Don’t try to get by with technicalities. Besides, Nik is hardly little and he’s not even her boyfriend.”
“Exactly! She’s having a baby with someone she’s not even romantically attached to!”
“I’m right here, you know.”
Lucy gives Grace a hard look. “And that’s her choice, right? We’ve talked about this. Ashley knows what she’s getting herself into. She’s a big girl.”
“I’m sorry, but… what do you mean by ‘we’ve talked about this’?”
Apparently ignoring each other is the game we’re playing today because Grace replies to Lucy as if I hadn’t asked a question.
“Yes, she’s a big girl but that doesn’t mean she’s ready for this. Nik’s certainly not ready.”
“Excuse me? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“He drives a pickup truck, Ashley.”
She didn’t seriously just say what I think she said, did she? “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I repeat because I am too stunned to say anything else. “Grace, you’re starting to let your snobbery show. Besides, what’s wrong with Nik driving a truck? If the truck were made by Mercedes, would that make a difference in your opinion?”
She flips her hair over her shoulder and sits up straight, placing her napkin on her lap. Our waitress must sense the turmoil at the table because no one has stopped over yet. “He’s rough around the edges, and you both know it. He’s not fit to be a father and if you think he is, you’re just as dumb as he is and maybe you’re not fit, either. Who someone decides to have a baby with says a lot about them, you know. I’m doing you a favor, telling you this now before it’s too late.”
I blanch at her comments. She didn’t seriously just say that. By the look on Lucy’s face, she can’t believe it either.
“I have no words for you right now.”
She shrugs but other than that simple movement, she doesn’t show any reaction to the fac
t that she just shoved a knife right in my heart. My own sister is telling me that I’m not going to be a good mother. That’s what she’s saying. My mouth opens, closes, and opens again but nothing comes out.
“Good evening. What can I get you to drink?”
“Water,” I mutter while Grace and Lucy order whatever they’d like.
“I’ll have the broccoli chicken alfredo,” I blurt out. “House salad to start, please.”
“Oh!” She sounds surprised but quickly recovers. “Great choice. Are you two ready to order, too?”
Again, I don’t pay attention to what Lucy or Grace say. I couldn’t care less if they were even ready to order. I want this dinner over with as quickly as possible.
The waitress takes our menus and promises to return with our drink order and a basket of bread. I offer her a shaky smile, impressed that I’m capable of that much.
No one says a word until she’s returned with our drinks and bread. I take a long fortifying drink of my water and clear my throat, keeping my eyes focused on the table.
To her credit, Lucy seems as troubled as I am by Grace’s words but doesn’t stand up for me, either. I don’t know if she thinks the same as Grace, but it wouldn’t matter if she disagreed. Lucy’s far too much of a coward to argue with her. She would never dare to think differently, at least to Grace’s knowledge.
I hear my sisters talking to each other as if I’m not even here and feel a pain in my chest. Lucy is explaining to Grace how she and her husband have decided to try fertility treatments. Meanwhile, Grace is listening but smirking at me, knowing that she’s gotten under my skin.
“What do you think, Ashley?”
I swallow the large piece of bread I just shoveled in my mouth. “Of what?”
Grace rolls her eyes in annoyance. “Lucy having to go through the expensive fertility treatments.”
I look at Lucy who’s staring at Grace with a furrowed brow.
“I never said they were expensive,” she says quietly.
“Aren’t they, though?” Grace counters. She’s being a patronizing bitch and I’m two seconds away from throwing my water in her face and telling her just that.
Lucy takes a sip of her strawberry lemonade and sets it down, her hands shaking just a little bit. “Well, yes, but it will be worth it. And if it doesn’t work, we’ll adopt. There are other ways to have a baby.”
Something lights up in Grace’s eyes that gives me an uneasy feeling. “Adoption, huh? You’d be okay with that?”
“Yes. Absolutely.”
“Interesting.”
The way she says it makes that uneasy feeling grow into a panic. She’s up to something. I know her far too well. There’s a gleam in her eye and it’s not a good one. Whatever is going through her head is not going to be good for me.
“You know, Samuel and I have been talking about adoption as well,” she mentions casually about her and her husband.
“Oh yeah?” Lucy asks curiously, but I can see that she’s nervous as to where Grace is going with this. It’s the way she’s talking about it that’s troubling us.
She sips on her glass of red wine. “Mm hmm,” she hums, looking at me over the rim of her goblet.
“That’s… good, right?”
I’m content sitting here, letting them have a conversation without me. Munching on the soft, warm bread.
“Yes. We’ve actually chosen a mother, too.”
That’s surprising to me, but by the look on Lucy’s face, she’s just as shocked as I am. This is the first we’ve heard of Grace and Samuel looking into adoption and now they’ve chosen a mother? That’s fast, right? “Oh, so you’re doing private adoption?”
“Something like that.”
“Your salads,” our waitress says, placing mine in front of me first, then placing the others down. “Is there anything else I can get for you?”
“No, thank you,” Lucy says softly and I shake my head.
I pick up the salt shaker to add a bit to my salad but Grace reaches over and takes it from me before I can add any to the dressing.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she snaps.
“Uh, trying to eat my salad?”
“You really think you need more salt in your diet? Your ankles are already swollen enough as it is,” she reminds me, looking down at my feet and curling her lip like I’m repulsive. “Plus, you ordered a really heavy meal, too.”
“Huh?”
“Alfredo? Heavy cream. Cheese. Starchy pasta. It’s like you’re trying to be as unhealthy as possible. How much weight have you gained? By the looks of it, you’ve already added thirty-five or forty pounds and let’s face it, you weren’t exactly thin to begin with.”
Did she just say… “Pardon me?”
She finishes her bite of lettuce and wipes her mouth then lifts a shoulder and looks me straight in the eyes. “Samuel agrees. He’s noticed, too. But, that comes with the territory for him, you know? What with him being a personal trainer, and all,” she reminds me, haughtily. This is getting beyond ridiculous.
Salad forgotten, I stare slack-jawed at my big sister. The woman who I’ve looked up to and bragged about all my life.
First of all. Samuel isn’t a personal trainer. After he was fired from his job as a marketing manager because he was caught sending dick pics to his assistant whom he was having an affair with, he spent the next two months at home doing absolutely nothing. Well, he was probably doing someone, even if it was through online chat rooms on porn sites, before Grace had had enough and told him he needed to find something to keep him busy.
Hence the personal trainer gig.
My guess is it’s just his way of getting his hands on women, but I keep my mouth shut. That’s Grace’s problem, not mine.
Aside from telling the family what happened, Grace had worked her magic to keep the reason he was fired all hush-hush, probably because she was embarrassed. Maybe it had something to do with their trying to adopt a baby, but the fact that this is the first I’ve heard of it tells me that wasn’t a factor to her covering up his affair. She just didn’t want to be seen as the woman who couldn’t keep her husband happy. At least, that’s what she always said of marriages where one of the partners stepped out. Apparently she doesn’t care if he’s sleeping with other women as long as no one else finds out about it. That’s what being judgmental gets you. Karma.
But back to Samuel being a dick about my weight? If he’s talking shit about me and making fun of the weight I’ve gained because I’m pregnant? He’s going to find out what it feels like to be sat on by my pregnant ass. Or kicked in the nuts. What a jerk! Who does he think he is? And why would Grace put up with it and allow him to talk like that?
My stomach is queasy, the dinner our waitress just delivered not a bit appetizing despite the fact that I’ve been craving — and eating a lot of — alfredo sauce for the past few months.
Once again, Grace continues chattering on happily, paying no attention to the fact that I am stunned into silence and Lucy is, well, uncomfortable as ever. She keeps giving me soft smiles but they’re not reassuring.
“Have you and Nik talked about it at all, Ashley?”
Hearing my name causes me to look up. Grace is staring at me like she’s been talking to me for a while and I haven’t been paying attention.
“Sorry?”
“Adoption. Have you talked about it?”
I look at Lucy, hoping for clarification, but all I get from her is a look of sympathy.
Automatically placing a hand on my stomach, I shake my head. Why would we talk about adoption? We’re having a baby.
“I don’t understand,” I admit, hating to do so. By the look on Grace’s face, that was her hope. She wants me to look stupid.
“No, I don’t suppose you would. Adoption, Ashley. Have you and Nik considered giving the baby up for adoption?”
“Why would we do that?”
“Well, like I said, you two are hardly ready to be parents. You aren’t even toget
her.”
“What does that have to do with it? And why do you think we’re not ready?”
“Grace,” Lucy whispers. “Not here. Not now.”
“Not here, not now, what? What are you talking about?” I ask Lucy but she just looks away. “Would someone please explain to me what y’all are talking about?” My voice is rising and I don’t care that people are turning to look at us. I feel ambushed by my sisters. They’re holding a secret without including me. Worse yet, the secret seems to be about me.
“Are you really that dense that you haven’t figured it out?” Grace asks me, practically sneering. Right now she’s looking at me like I’m no better than the… well, I would say gum on the bottom of her shoe but I know better than to assume she’d ever allow that to happen.
“Figured what out?”
“Samuel and I would like to adopt your baby.”
Chapter Eighteen
Ashley
If I was stunned silent before, that’s nothing compared to right now.
“You’re kidding, right?” I ask, hopeful that’s the case. I mean, it’s a terrible joke, but this being a joke would be better than her being serious. Plus, Grace isn’t known for her humor so it’s very likely that she is trying to be funny but severely missing the mark.
“Of course not. We’ll pay you, if that’s what you’re worried about. Nik, too. I have the papers all drawn up.”
She’s talking to me like I’m one of her clients and we’re getting ready to make a deal.
“Papers?”
She reaches into her oversized bag and pulls out a Manila envelope, setting it on the table between us. I don’t touch it for fear that she’ll get the wrong impression, even though I want to set the envelope and its contents on fire. “For you to give up the rights to your baby, obviously. I mean, it wouldn’t work if you later tried to claim the baby as your own. Or Nik, either. That would be horrible. Can you imagine?” No. I can’t imagine any of this being real but she continues rambling on as if she didn’t try to rip my baby from my arms. “There’s little tabs for both of you to sign if you don’t feel like reading through all the legal stuff. It might be over your head.”
Together: A Surprise Pregnancy Romance Page 18