We check out with jeans, sweaters, a dress Stella claims I “need,” and then rush to lunch.
The restaurant is all exposed brick, conversations at excessive volumes, and tables the size of small cutting boards. Blair waves us over from the back, Ruby on her knee, babbling away. Jess is showing Sophia something on her phone, causing both to laugh hysterically.
“Hiiii!” Blair calls in her mom-voice.
We’re swallowed into hugs. Blair careful, Jess enthusiastic, Sophia giving me double cheek-kisses like the glamorous celebrity she is.
“How was Thanksgiving?” Jess asks as we slide into the booth.
“Low-key,” Stella says. “Brandon cooked. I supervised.”
“Grant made an entire feast,” Sophia says. “For the three of us. Hazel inhaled mashed potatoes like it was a competitive sport.”
“How’s she doing?” I ask.
“Nine going on nineteen. She wants her ears pierced for Christmas.”
“And?”
“Grant said no. I said maybe. She’s learning negotiation.” Sophia grins.
Blair adjusts Ruby on her lap. “We missed you at your parent’s house, Soph. It was actually nice, except when your mother kept asking when we’re having another baby.”
“Yikes,” Jess says.
“Right? I told her to ask me again in two years.” Blair looks at me. “What about you, Nat? What did you do?”
“Dinner at my dad’s.”
Stella gives me a pointed look. “Not with Jake?”
Our server appears, as if she’s been summoned by the universe to save me from that question. But once she leaves, the table goes quiet again.
“So?” Jess asks, sipping her iced tea. “Why not Jake?”
I trace circles on my water glass. “I don’t know.”
Stella snorts. “Lies.”
“It’s not lies. It’s just…complicated.”
“Tell us why it’s complicated,” Blair says gently.
“Thanksgiving in Connecticut with his mom is a relationship thing. That’s meeting-the-family territory,” I say.
The truth is I’ve been thinking about him constantly since he left earlier this week. Missing the way he shows up at my door with food I didn’t know I was craving. Missing his hand on my stomach to see if the baby is kicking yet. Missing the sound of his laugh and the way he looks at me like I’m something precious.
“You miss him,” Sophia observes, reading my face.
“Yeah,” I admit. “I do.”
I hesitate before saying more, knowing this will open a can of worms. “But writers’ room starts Monday. I need my head in the game. This show is everything I’ve worked for. I can’t get distracted.”
“Have you told them yet?” Blair asks gently. “About the pregnancy?”
My stomach tightens. “No.”
“Nat,” Jess says carefully. “You’re twenty-one weeks. You’re showing.”
