Mom squealed, getting up from the couch and wrapping Maria in a hug. Over the past few weeks, she had warmed up to my friend and had even begun treating Maria the way she deserved. Like family. “Oh my goodness, sweetheart! That is just wonderful. The two of you will make such a lovely pair. I bet he cleans up well.” She winked at Maria, who giggled, before turning her attention to me. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Do you have a date?”
I scoffed. “In the words of the great Daya, this queen don’t need a king.” For a split second, I pictured Jackson in a tuxedo.He sure as hell would clean up nice too. Then I all but beat that picture out of my mind.No, ma’am. No way, no how.
Mom frowned at me and then sighed. The look of disappointment in her eyes pissed me off.Sorry, Mommy Dearest. The perfect daughter you have is gone. Get over it.For a second, I was sure she would say something. But, like always, she simply changed the conversation to a less touchy topic. “Maria, dear. You got mail today. I put it on your bed.”
I all but dragged Maria up the stairs, eager to get away from my mother and into the quiet of my bedroom. Maria headed to her room and I continued down the hall towards my sanctuary. I froze when Maria’s small scream shattered the air, spinning on my heels and running towards her.
She stood at the foot of the bed, a box of preserved roses scattered around her feet. In her trembling hand, she held a small note and her tear-filled eyes met mine as I made my way towards her. I took the note when she held it up to me and ground my teeth together so hard, I was surprised none of them broke.
Little dove, little dove. What am I to do with you? Are you really going to keep a baby from her father? I can’t let that slide. See you soon.
I tossed it to the floor with the roses and pulled Maria into my side. She was shaking. Terrified. I wasn’t going to lie—it scared me a little too. I wasn’t surprised he knew where she was. But to reach out like this? That mother-fucker. I held her tighter as her cries quieted.
“It’s going to be ok, Maria. I promise. I got you.”
Once I had gotten her calmed down, I cleaned up the roses and the note and took it all to the nearest fireplace. Setting that shit on fire made me feel marginally better. Seeing Maria like this…it sucked. For so many reasons. I wanted to fix it, make it all better. I was scared and angry for my friend. But, evenif I would never admit it out loud, watching her go through this brought up painful memories. Memories I had worked hard to bury deep inside. I checked on her one last time and was surprised to find her asleep in bed. It was a fitful rest, I’m sure. But a deep one brought on by the stress of pregnancy and shitty men. Quietly, I closed the door to my room. My mom hadn’t even come upstairs, apparently not even the least bit alarmed by the commotion.
I laid in bed and, for a several minutes, just stared at my phone.
To do it, or not to do it?
Send the text?
Order some DoorDash, take a nap, and forget about it all?
Fuck it. I was sending the text.
Me: “Hey.”
He replied immediately.
Jackson: “Oh, so now you want to talk?”
I itched to say something smart.
Me: “Maria’s ex is still around. He left her a note here. Scared the shit of her.”
The three dots letting me know he was typing appeared and disappeared. After a couple minutes, his reply finally came through.
Jackson: “You guys ok?”
Me: “We’re fine. Just thought Diego would want to know. I don’t have his number.”
Jackson: “Yeah, he’s weird about giving it out.”
Me: “Oh.”
Yes, Holly. Very eloquent of you.
Jackson: “About what I heard…”
Me: “Don’t worry about it.”
Jackson: “Are you kidding?’
