“We’ll hook you up,” Delilah says as she pulls at the waistband of her pants. “How can these be tight? They’re freaking maternity pants, for shit’s sake.”
Daphne stares at Delilah’s stomach and points to her tiny pooch. “Maybe you should lay off the cake.”
“You better shut up,” Delilah snaps and sucks in her gut until she practically turns blue. “Lucio keeps feeding me like I have a bottomless stomach.”
I quietly excuse myself to change back into my real-world clothes, which aren’t cheap, but are nowhere near as expensive as the dress Daphne’s forcing me to buy.
“I’ll meet you outside,” I call out as I open the dressing room door, coming face-to-face with Daphne.
“We have lacy things to buy. We’ll meet you two at the register.”
“Works for me,” Delilah says and grunts. “If I can ever get these damn things off.”
“Leather’s a bitch, kid,” Betty tells her from the next stall.
Daphne grabs my hand. “Come on. We just need a few items.”
An hour later and two full shopping bags in my hands, we finally walk out of the department store and climb in the car. I’m exhausted, not having spent that long shopping since I was in college.
“Who wants a drink?” Betty asks as she reapplies her lipstick while looking in the mirror hanging from the visor.
“Can we drink at the bar?” Daphne asks as she digs through her purse for something.
“I wish I could have a drink,” Delilah grumbles.
“I could use more grandbabies,” Betty says to Daphne. “You should try again soon.”
“I wasn’t trying with this one.” Daphne ticks her head back toward me. “Look at her for another kid.”
My head jerks back. “Me?”
“You’re the new one,” Delilah says.
My mouth hangs open. “We’re taking things slow,” I say, but I’m pretty sure everyone in the car knows what happened the other night.
“You keep telling yourself that,” Daphne says, glancing at me in the rearview mirror.
“Tilly,” Betty says, drawing my attention away from Daphne. “My son doesn’t love easy, but he loves hard.”
I bite my lip, trying to hide my smile.
“You can take things as slow as you want, but if you love him, don’t wait an eternity to give me a baby.”
I haven’t thought about having children in so long. After Mitchell died, I figured there was no hope. I’d be barren forever, living in perpetual widowhood and loneliness. But with the way these girls are talking, I’m going to be barefoot and pregnant in no time.
“I love this song,” Daphne says, turning up the volume so loud none of us can talk.
I’m thankful for the noise, preferring not to talk about my sex life just yet. They have no problem sharing too much information with each other, but although they’ve made me feel welcome, I’m still an outsider.
It’s a short trip back to the bar, and I excuse myself, needing a moment alone and wanting to drop off my bags at the bakery for later.
I send Roger a quick text, letting him know I survived the shopping spree, but just barely.
Roger: What’s wrong?
Me: Nothing.
Roger: Tilly…
