My mind flicks back to that night nearly ten years ago, when she found out that the root cause of her crippling menstrual pain wasn’t her digestive issues, but endometriosis, and thatthere was a strong likelihood she’d never be able to have children.
“That’s what I thought,” she says, stepping outside, and I follow. “But I peed on five sticks and all of them came back positive.” She shrugs her shoulders as she lifts her hands up.
“Oh my God, congratulations!” I say, being more careful this time as I embrace her. Then I catch our mother walking down the hallway toward us.
“Congratulations? Why on earth are you congratulating your sister? And why the hell aren’t you both dressed and downstairs for the welcome dinner.” An impatient sneer spreads across her face as she reaches us. Her teeth are bared like a pit bull ready to attack.
The sound of my mother’s disdain makes my toes curl.
“Give it a break, Mum. We’re not due down there until six, and it’s barely a quarter past five.” Kelly waves her away dismissively.
Thankfully, Kelly’s ninja skills extend to avoiding awkward questions and deflecting conversations, preventing our mum from probing any further.
“Well, you better get a move on, I don’t need either of you bringing the Foster name into disrepute because of your tardiness.” Her gaze locks firmly onto me.
Once.
It wasonce.
Okay twice. If we include lunch and the theater.
My forced smile pushes down the growing anger inside as she steps into the elevator and disappears.
“Right, I better head up to my room,” I say, reaching for the elevator button.
“Okay.” Kelly nods at me.
“I can’t believe I’m going to be an uncle!” I do a little jump for joy, like a fish out of water.
“Stop it!” Kelly whacks my arm and shakes her head as she makes her way in the opposite direction.
I immediately reach into my pocket to share the news, not with Stephen like I usually do, but with Alexander.
Less than three minutes later, I’m back in my hotel room, and I turn on the radio via my laptop. Alexander should be finding out about now if he is indeed number one.
I carry the laptop with me into the bathroom, the familiar sound of the Capital FM DJ Abbie McCarthy’s voice counting down the top ten songs as I strip out of my clothes and turn on the shower.
“Only two records remain in this week’s battle for the top spot. Will it be pop superstar Sabrina Carpenter with her latest single? Or will man-of-the-moment Alexander Morgan climb into the number one spot with his summer hitMy Anchor?”
I can feel the tension building in my chest as I pull a towel from underneath the sink and hang it up next to the shower. I stick my hand inside and adjust the tap to turn the head down slightly.
“I can exclusively reveal that this week’s number two and runner-up on the UK singles chart is…”
23.Alexander
Friday
“It’s been quite the week for you here in London, hasn’t it?” Abbie McCarthy says over the phone.
Paul, Lucy, and Rob are squeezed onto one couch, Lucy on the arm rest, while my parents sit to either side of me on the other couch. Paul stares at me intensely to ensure I don’t fuck up, making me fidget with the bandage on my wrist.
As always, Abbie’s been briefed on topics she can’t discuss, including Rita Watson, but that doesn’t always stop journalists from trying to get that headline for the clickbait. Thankfully, I’ve known Abbie for a while now, having interviewed with her a few times over the years, which makes me feel more confident that I won’t have to worry about being tripped up.
“It really has. I’m doing my sixth of seven sold-out shows at the O2 in London tonight. I got to record my live album at Abbey Road, which just dropped today. And now my singleMy Anchoris number one on the charts. It’s been the best week of my life.”
And I mean it. It really has been. But not for those reasons.
It’s been great because Christopher has reminded me what it feels like to love again.
