Behind me, someone let out a quiet snicker, but if Destiny noticed, she didn’t react.
“Great.” The group leader’s head bobbed enthusiastically. “Shall we eat?”
“It’s the only part of this bullshit worth my time,” someone muttered just loud enough for me to hear.
I was pretty sure it was the tattooed blonde woman.
No one else responded, but everyone started moving for the table. I hung back, taking the opportunity to look the other women over. The black woman smirked and rolled her eyes when she passed me, while the white woman with the blonde frizzy hair kept her eyes on the floor. The Asian girl didn’t look at anyone, but instead focused on the table as she hurried forward, her expression eager and almost possessive.
I started after them, but paused when the woman I’d seen shopping during the rainstorm caught my eye.
“I know you,” she said in a soft, twangy voice, her smile sweet and genuine and oddly welcoming considering she wasn’t someone I wanted to talk to. “I saw you at that cute little boutique the other day. Mindy Mae’s, right?”
Since I assumed that was the name of the store, I said, “Yeah.”
Her smile didn’t falter, but she did glance around before speaking again, and when she did, her voice was low. “I wanted to talk to you before you left. Since I saw you here earlier in the day, I mean. But you ran out so fast.” She hesitated as if tryingto decide what to say. “This whole thing can be so… Confusing. This group is nice and all, but it’s good to have support outside as well. You know what I mean?”
I didn’t, since I’d gotten the impression she was happy about the whole thing, and because she was clearly younger than twenty-six, but since something about her expression put me at ease, I nodded.
Her smile stretched wider, and she extended her hand. “I’m Bette.”
“Ara,” I said, taking the offered hand.
“It’s nice to meet you, Ara.” Bette tilted her head. “Do you live downtown, by any chance? I only ask because you took cover in the store, making me think you were on foot when the storm swept in.”
“I do. Above one of the restaurants, actually.”
Her smile brightened. “How lovely! I do, too. Live downtown, I mean.” She gave a slight roll of her eyes. “We’ll have to meet for lunch sometime.”
“Yeah,” I replied automatically, not even sure if I was being genuine or just placating her.
“We need to get food so we can start, ladies!” Destiny called.
Bette rolled her eyes again, but her kind expression didn’t change. “She’s a stickler for the schedule.” She waved toward the table. “Come on.”
I followed Bette, surprised to discover that nearly everyone else had already filled their plates and had headed back to the waiting room. Bottles of sparkling grape juice had been opened, and two were already empty, and Destiny stood anxiously at the end of the table, the smile still on her face even though it didn’t mask her impatience.
Bette took a plate, handed it to me, then grabbed one for herself, and I followed her down the line. In the first pan, prime rib swam in brown gravy, and mashed potatoes were in the one next to it. There were baked sweet potatoes, too, and green beans with bacon, and rolls and even a couple pies for dessert, and it all looked and smelled absolutely mouthwatering.
“It’s so much food,” I said, awed by the sight.
I did okay financially – although I wasn’t as well off as Trevor – but even I didn’t eat like this except a couple times a year. Yet this was a government funded support group and there was easily enough food for twenty people even though there were only seven of us. It was so strange.
“The leftovers go to a shelter,” Bette said as she scooped up a tiny piece of prime rib.
“Shouldn’t you get a little more, Mrs. Billings?” Destiny asked. “This food is meant to keep you ladies strong. Remember that.”
“I ate not that long ago,” Bette replied, rubbing her belly with her free hand while giving the group leader a sweet smile. “I couldn’t wait.”
Pacified, Destiny returned her smile. “I understand, but you need to remember that the baby’s health should be your priority, not your comfort.”
Bette’s blue eyes flashed, but her irritation was gone almost as fast as it had appeared. “I understand. But I had a very nice lunch before that. I promise.”
I looked from her to Destiny, my mind whirling as I took in the exchange. It was so strange. Like a mother admonishing a child, not a counselor talking to a patient whose mental well-being she was supposed to be in charge of. It made no sense, and yet it made perfect sense considering where I was. The Department of Fertility.
Bette put small servings of mashed potatoes and green beans on her plate, then took a roll. I did the same, although helping myself to much bigger portions and taking a sweet potato. I slathered it with butter, watching Destiny watch me out of the corner of my eye and half expecting her to reprimand me. Thankfully, she remained quiet even when I spread nearly half a tablespoon of butter on my roll.
Plate in hand, I collected a plastic flute of sparkling grape juice before following Bette to the waiting area where the other women were already digging in. They were quiet, their attention on their plates and their bodies stiff like they were waiting for an attack. Was that what I should expect as well? Probably. IfDestiny’s behavior so far told me anything, it was that she wasn’t here to help me or anyone else adjust to this program or even to give us support. She was here to continue the propaganda, to keep an eye on us, and to report any problems. Destiny was not a friend.
