Nope. Don’t go there, Maggy. Crying doesn’t solve a damn thing.
“So, was that it? Is that what upset you today?”
“He said he was going to send me a monthly stipend.” I say that last word like it tasted bitter.
“What’s a stipend?”
“Like an allowance.”
“You mean child support.”
“I guess.” I shrug knowing she can’t see me. “I don’t need his stupid stipend.”
“Honey…” Robin’s voice—she sounds disappointed. “How long have I known you?”
Oh, here we go. “A while.”
“I’ve known you for most of your life.”
She has.
“I know where this refusal to think about this stipend comes from.”
“Uh-huh.” How could she when I don’t even know why I find it so offensive?
“You’re hurt that he’s rejecting you.”
“He’s not rejectingme. He’s rejecting peanut.”
“Maggy…”
This isn’t about me, damn it. “No, Robin. I don’t need his money. I said the trust would be nice so she could go to college. If he doesn’t want to be in her life, then screw that guy. She and I have you.” And maybe Gus. “That’s all we need.”
“I know, but that money would come in handy for you and our baby girl.”
Ourbaby girl.
Well, damn. I sniffle on the phone loud enough for her to hear.
“Darlin’ Maggy. Don’t cry. It’s all going to be okay. It’s going to be better than okay. Our life is just going to get better. Business is booming, thanks to you, so much so we’ll be able to hire someone part-time when the baby comes so you can take time off to be with her.”
I smile into the phone. This is something she’s mentioned several times.
“It’s so important for you to be home with her for the first little bit for bonding.”
I’d read that somewhere. Maybe at the doctor’s office. “Yeah,” I say with a crack in my voice. “That’d be nice, Robs.”
“Say…” Robin’s voice sounds extra upbeat. “Let’s go do some shopping for your baby niche after the shop closes tomorrow.”
I smile again.
“Hell, let’s close an hour early. We can shop for a crib and a changing table and have a bite to eat somewhere. Then Gus can put that shit together for us after it’s delivered, since you know I have absolutely no skills when it comes to tools.”
She’s right. The few times she’s wielded a hammer, she’s somehow hit a finger or a thumb in an attempt to hammer in a nail.
“He’d do that?” I know he would. Gus is a good guy.
“Of course he would. He’s really great with his hands.”
