“So far, we can’t agree on one. My mom was bothering me about delivering on my own, so I finally agreed to move back.” She let out a quiet sigh. “Honestly, she didn’t push much. I was so scared, thinking about doing this by myself.”
“You know I’ll do anything I can to help, right?”
I was thinking more of a baby shower, but Krista perked up. “Really? Mom offered to be in the delivery room, but I can’t handle the thought of her seeing that. I will never understand people who film it. Would you stay with me?”
While your kid’s being born? Shit.
But I’d already offered. So I answered, “Sure. I don’t promise not to freak out, but I’ll hold your hand and feed you ice chips, the whole nine, okay? Are you doing natural childbirth?” I thought there were classes or something, so I was probably too late to be her partner in that.
“Depends on how much it hurts. The idea of a needle in my spine...”
“Right? Welcome to modern medicine.” Though I hadn’t thought much about how I’d handle reproduction down the line, I wasn’t a fan of pain. “So when are you due?”
“Late May.”
“I’ll be there,” I promised.
After that, we went downstairs and joined her mom. We watched TV and made popcorn; Krista put real butter on it, and it was so good that I probably gained five pounds just from the taste. My cell phone complained that I was down to ten percent battery, so I shut it off. It was late when I walked home, but this was Nebraska, and it was only six blocks, so I wasn’t worried. Still, we’d watched horror movies, so I was twitchy by the time I got in the door.
Mom was asleep, so I checked my email. I had the usual spam, plus notes from all my former roomies, which made me happy. I missed all of them, even Max, though things were unspeakably awkward between us at the end. I opened Nadia’s first:
LB! You know I miss you like crazy, right? Courtney’s in your bed right now, and she has completely alphabetized my books. I’m pretty sure there will be a lending library program implemented the next time I get home from work. So how’s Nebraska? Did you find a job yet? Have you started applying to any schools? I have like ten more questions but you’ll get grumpy if I dump them on you all at once. Hug and kiss my family for me, okay? Write back soon or I’m sending my brother to track you down.
She didn’t mention the hot single dad she’d broken up with right before I left. Mr. Hot Ginger had dumped Nadia for her own good, which would drive her quietly crazy. I’d felt horrible about the timing, but there was little I could do about it. I hadn’t gotten to know him well before I left, but Ty seemed like a good guy. He was only a few years older than us, but already had a four-year-old. That was the crux of the conflict.
Writing back, I didn’t quite nail the tone, talking about Rob too much and inventing interesting anecdotes because there was so little going on. I could’ve mentioned Krista, but Nadia had never been as close to her, and there was some tension by the time she’d moved. Mostly I didn’t want Nadia to worry; things would be fine once I got a job and had less time to fret about whether I’d made the right decision.
I opened Angus’s email next:
Hey, you. Got your check. It appears not to be rubber, but I said you didn’t have to pay me back. I hate you for leaving. Come back right now. I’ll wait. This is me, waiting. It’s been at least five minutes. You’re shattering my faith in humanity, Lauren. Take responsibility for it! Not sure what you’ve heard from Nadia, but she’s such a hot mess. I can’t believe you abandoned us. All the light has left my life. All of it! Okay, enough drama. I’m working on getting over Josh. Classes suck but I will survive. (You’re singing it now, aren’t you?)
“Damn you, Angus Starr. You know me too well.” I got up on my bed with a hairbrush and sang two verses before reading on.
In all seriousness, there is a Lauren-sized hole in my life. Please don’t lose touch. Write soon. Love and hugs, Angus.
It was simpler writing back to Angus; our friendship was sweet and uncomplicated. Briefly I considered deleting Max’s email without opening it, but that seemed like an asshole move. In the end, I read it, two lines only:
I’m sorry about everything. Take care of yourself.
Max had nothing to apologize for; if anything, I should be saying that to him. But I couldn’t. So I just closed the email without replying.
Belatedly, I remembered to plug my phone in and when it powered up, I saw I had a message waiting. I dialed into voice mail and listened. Could I come in to interview for the receptionist position? I’d applied for, like, ten jobs, but only the car dealership had called. The months I worked in the fine arts department at Mount Albion must factor into this request. They were likely looking for someone inexperienced so they could offer the lowest possible salary.
It was too late for me to do anything tonight, so I went to bed and checked first thing in the morning. The woman I spoke to asked if I could make it at one-thirty on Thursday, and I said yes, though I was less sure how I’d get there. My mom had a forty-five-minute commute and she needed her car. I obviously had to sort my transportation situation as soon as possible, but my resources wouldn’t stretch to running a vehicle, to say nothing of gas and insurance. The chicken-and-egg problem made me cranky—to get a job, I needed a car, to get a car, I needed a job.
So I was in a mood when Rob picked me up. I didn’t smile at him as I usually did, and I must’ve been distracted, because by the time we parked at his house, he was frowning.
“Are you okay, Lauren?”
My head jerked up. His arm was across the back of the seat, and he’d shifted to face me, one knee crooked away from the steering wheel. It would be so easy to fall into his arms like I did when I was seventeen, but he wasn’t my big brother, so that meant I needed to solve my own problems. I mustered a weak smile.
“Oh, just life, y’know. Shit happens. What excitement do we have in store today?” I reached for the door handle, and to my astonishment, he clicked the lock button.
“Nope.”
“Excuse me?”
“I don’t accept that answer. Something’s wrong. You should tell me.”
“Why?” I’d never snapped at Rob, but I hadn’t slept well the night before, twisted up about Krista, childbirth and the potential job interview.
“Because we’re friends.”
“Nadia’s my friend. And you’re not my brother.”
His quiet, patient expression made this moment even worse. Bitching at Rob made me feel like Avery, and I’d rather be a sponge or a sea urchin. If I could’ve gotten out of the truck, I’d have run for it.
“I know that.” He was just too calm, and it irked me. Did anything ever rile him up?
“You want to know about my problems? Fine. I have an interview on Thursday, but I don’t have a ride. And if they make an offer, I don’t have a way to get there because this is Sharon, there’s no public transportation and I have no idea why I wanted to come back here.”
“Because it’s home,” he said quietly. “And I’ll take you to the interview. You know I don’t mind...and it’s not the farthest I’ve driven you by a long shot. If you get the job, you can borrow my old truck. It looks like crap but I keep it running.”
I stared at him. “You have two trucks.”
“You remember the green one? It’s handy when I have the other one serviced.”