“It’s no one. Nothing. Everything is fine,” she forces, through an uncharacteristic stammer. Sin is very rarely at a loss for words.
“Nope. No way. You’re not getting out of this. Tell me.” I push. Sin tends to be an open book, so her dismissal is worrying.
“Fine, but you have to promise not to judge me or tell anyone,” She gripes. “It’s not what you think, okay?”
I mime zipping my lips closed and throwing the key away. “Alright, continue.”
“Dom was texting me.”
“Like, Dominic Montez, the Manta player?” I do a poor job masking my shock, taken aback by her giving him any sort of attention.
“We all traded numbers for Kodi and Mav’s wedding stuff, right? Well, he won’t leave me alone.”
“Leave you alone about what?” I ask, watching color begin to creep into her cheeks again.
“Nothing, honestly. Just Dom being Dom.” She shrugs, placing her phone face down on the arm of the couch.
“Mhmmm,” I acquiesce with a hum. “On that note, want to watch some more episodes?”
“Yep, definitely, let's do that.”
It’s as if she had laser beams for eyes with how focused she is, as we continue to binge our show. We make small comments here and there until I feel myself get sleepy. My eyes get heavier until I succumb to my relaxed state and the softness of the couch.
* * *
I wakeup to my phone buzzing repeatedly beside me, Sin is still with me on the couch, her eyes closed softly as she rests. Flipping my phone, I see that it’s two PM and Mom is lit up on the screen. I hesitate in a silent debate about ignoring her call, but despite how upset I still am with my parents, the nagging thought that something has happened to them wins me over. I carefully and quietly exit the living room, padding softly into my room to take the call.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Darcy Marie, I thought you had died. I’ve been calling for weeks.” Her voice is laced with an unmistakable edge of annoyance, and yet not a hint of an apology coming my way.
“I’m aware, Mom, but I’ve been busy dealing with work and this pregnancy—that thing you wanted nothing to do with.”
“I never said that,” she dismisses without hesitation.
Of course, she didn’t.
“Okay, well, what do you need, Mom?”
“I just wanted to check in and get some info about your baby shower. Have you picked a date for it? How many people can I invite, and have you inked a contract for your photographers?”
I refuse to believe for a moment that her intentions are sincere. She only wants to play the part of the dutiful Grandma. The photographers are so she and Dad can post about it—so not happening.
“Absolutely not, mom.Youare invited andyouonly. I don’t know when or where it’s happening yet but if you show up with photographers, they will be asked to leave. And you know what? Let's back up. What is with the sudden change of attitude? When you found out it was a big problem!”
“While your father might not approve, I want to be involved. The photographers are important to document a big milestone such as this.”
“Yes, for your socialite friends and the media. Again, Mom, you can attend but if you continue to push then I won’t be extending an invite to you at all.” Setting boundaries with my parents at twenty-five feels weird, but better late than never.
“Darcy Marie, you should be more aware of the world you were raised in and be grateful for everything your father and I have done for you.”
“I gotta go, Mom. I’ll text you, bye.” I don’t even bother waiting for a response before ending the call. As I’m catching my breath, Rose’s name pops up on the screen, calling me.
“Hi, Rose,” I greet, knowing she can’t see my smile but hopeful she can feel it in my voice. She regularly checks in on me, providing constant reassurance when I have a weird feeling, or fear. She has been sending Tate and me little gifts for the blob, adding steadily to the almost-overwhelming pile of things sitting in the soon-to-be nursery.
“Hey Darcy. How are you doing? Do you need anything? Tatum mentioned you had a pretty severe migraine yesterday.” Concern is evident in her voice.
“Geez, he’s just telling everyone about that, I guess.”
