“Take care, Tyler.” Nana gave him a wave and bent down to search through my refrigerator. I saw more eggplant and a ton of other stuff in my future judging by the sour look on her face.
I opened the door, giving him a little wave as he headed out.
“So what’s going on?” she asked while turning her nose up at something she dug out of the bottom shelf.
“All my food is edible, I promise. And other than the chocolate cake, mostly everything is even healthy. You can get rid of the face.”
I leaned against the kitchen wall.
“No. What’s going on with the two of you?” She motioned between me and the path Tyler had taken out the door with her finger. “Are you getting married or moving somewhere together after the baby is born?”
“No, we both agreed to stay here was the best option with Mom upstairs and his mother always here. We haven’t talked about living together, but there’s time.”
My stomach rolled when she squinted up at me.
“Not much. How far along are you now?”
“A little over five months. Tyler said he’d take as much time off as he could when the baby is born.”
“But he won’tlivewith you. So it’s all going to be on you. Your mother will help, but you need to make sure you’re ready for that.”
“I am, Nana. You know me. We’ll be just fine.” I forced a smile, a sour sting in my gut at referring to a “we” that didn’t include Tyler. He wouldn’t leave me in the lurch, but Nana was right. If he didn’t officially live here, he’d be back and forth between his apartment by the bakery and here. It was one of those things I’d think about and then put out of my mind right after so I wouldn’t upset the happy limbo we floated in.
“I do know you.” She patted my cheek. “And I know your mother is itching to come down and get her hands on that baby. You’ll be fine either way. Come up and sit with us if you have time.”
“I will. I just have a meeting first.” I kissed the top of her head. “Give me a little bit.”
Either way.
I never wanted to think ofeither waywith Tyler, but I was running out of time.
THIRTY
OLIVIA
“Look what I made!” Morgan chirped as I sat down in her dining room, setting a large glass filled with familiar lime-green liquid in front of me. “A completely virgin margarita!”
“God, I miss margaritas.” I sighed as I twisted the stem between my fingers. Of all the cocktails I’d sampled at my Cleopatra dinners, this was and always would be my favorite. I’d tried virgin drinks, and they were right up there with decaf coffee, a subpar and empty placeholder.
“I bet you won’t even miss the tequila.”
“I bet you’re wrong.” I laughed as I lifted the glass and took a sip. “This isn’t bad, Morg.” I suspected it had to do with the heavy salt along the rim, but I’d take it. There was a bitter irony to never needing a drink more during the one long period of time I wasn’t allowed to have one.
“You look great,” Morgan’s wife said as she set the steaming tray of lasagna onto the table. “How are you feeling?”
Leah was an adorable little pixie with a small, almost whisper-like voice. She was a vivid contrast to her loud, nearly six-feet-tall wife, but they worked. Watching them flutter around each other, effortless and sweet in their little touches and silent communication, made me yearn for the same thing with Tyler. I loved having him around and missed him when he wasn’t, but I didn’t know if we’d ever have what Morgan and Leah did. I wanted a life with him, and although I had one, it still felt tentative and, on the nights when I was alone, temporary.
“Thank you. Okay, I suppose. I still get wiped sometimes. No more nausea and so far none of the lethal heartburn that every woman in my family keeps warning me about.”
“Just trying to get an idea of what to expect.” She shot a look at Morgan before picking up my plate.
“Wait.” My drink splashed on my hand as I dropped my glass. “Are you guys…”
“Not yet,” Morgan answered as she sat next to me, the disappointment in her reply almost triggering tears of my own. The sappiness hadn’t dissipated with the second trimester. If anything, it had gotten worse. I burst into tears over the dumbest things lately. Early on, I was able to recognize it and go with the flow. Now, it was too all-consuming to skate around.
“Liv, it’s okay. Don’t get all hormonal weepy.” She squeezed my knee. “The doctor said it would take a while and I’m not in my twenties, so it’s not as easy to just get pregnant. Plenty of time and Costco tests left.” Her grin was a half-inch too wide, but I’d let it go.
“I’ve heard it can be harder at our age, unless you make a stupid deal with a childhood enemy and end up pregnant after a night of drinking and bad decisions,” I joked to nudge away the guilt over having a baby by accident while Morgan experienced month after month of heartbreak.
