It’s a minute or two before we’re all quiet again as the events run on a loop in my mind.
30
Business partners
Lori
“This is a sweet view, my dude,” Josh says, staring out at the park as the sun is setting on New York.
“It’s my favorite. But now I’m thinking maybe I should sell this place.” The thought has been running in my head for weeks.
“What! Why?” He looks at me like I’m crazy and takes a big drink of beer. “This is a mint location.”
“I know but”—I pause and nod my head at the door as if Jenny is standing there—“the baby. Stresses me out imagining a kid here with this balcony so high up in the air. And there’s no yard. Kids need a yard, ya know?”
“I guess.” Josh grins. “You’re done, eh? This is it. Head over heels in love and shit.”
“Can you blame me?”
“Nope. Jenny is the coolest girl I’ve ever met. Even when we were kids she was always amazing. A scrapper but a kind heart. And solid decision-making for the most part. I would want to do some harebrained scheme and she’d talk me out of it. Or improve the plan so I didn’t die.”
“She’s stubbornly independent though,” I mutter. “It’s a miracle she’s still here. I swear, any second she’s going to move into her own place, and I’ll have to sleep there every night in her terrible bed, dying from the lack of air conditioning.”
Josh’s eyes narrow but he doesn’t say anything.
“What?” I ask.
“What?” His voice cracks.
“Dude, spill.” It’s my turn to narrow my gaze.
His cheeks flush and he glances down, avoiding me.
“You know something, talk.”
“Fine!” he bursts. “She wants to move out. She doesn’t want you worrying about your brother and work and stressing about her and the kid and this relationship. She was just trying to spare you a hassle.”
“I knew it!” I put the mug of beer down and turn to the living room once more as if I can see through to the room where she’s sleeping.
“Don’t tell her I told you. I wouldn’t have, but I think she should stay with you. Especially if she’s this sick. What if this lasts? How can she work sick?”
“She can’t.”
And as if on cue, she walks from the room, rubbing her eyes and yawning.
“Why don’t I go get us some pizza,” Josh says, standing up. “Give you some room to talk.”
“Thanks,” I mutter and walk to her. We haven’t had a chance to talk much, not since the wedding.
“Where you going?” she asks Josh.
“Pizza. Be back in a minute.” He waves and hurries for the elevator.
I pull her into my arms and kiss her head. “How you feeling?”
“Better. And hungry. Maybe this will be my new thing. Throw up all day and eat all night,” she jokes halfheartedly. She’s weak.
I steer her toward the massive U-shaped sectional in the living room and force her into my lap. “We need to talk.”
She nods and clears her throat. “I know.”
“Can I go first?”
She parts her lips like she might argue but pauses and waits for me to speak.
“This thing with my brother and family made me think some things.”
“Like what?” She gulps.
“This.” I place a hand on her belly. It’s deceptively flat. “If the baby makes you sick for months on end, I don’t know how you expect to work—”
“Women do it every day, Lori. Loads of women struggle through and they’re fine. I’m just as strong as they are.” And her ass is up.
“Right, but we don’t need to struggle through.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” She climbs off my lap and stands, instantly annoyed with me, complete with the bitterly evil laugh. “When you left me at your parents’ house, I had to call my brother!” she shouts. “I was forced to ask for help. Because you were gone and I am broke. And that is on me, not you. It’s my fault that I’m not prepared to be a parent and not responsible enough to take care of myself.”
Shit.
“I had nowhere to go and no money and no vehicle. And your chef kicked me out because your family needed privacy.”
Fuck me.
“You have no idea how that feels, pregnant and so broke you can barely afford the cab ride to your brother’s house where you have to stay so you can eat and feed your kid.” She waves me off. “We are not discussing this. And I’m moving out! I need my independence and to be able to support myself.