My answer seems to satisfy them, and they both start talking about Nick’s game on Sunday.
“Oh my gosh! Stop now!” Claire screeches, turning all our attention to her.
“I’m serious!” Bizzy walks behind her, setting a platter on the table.
“We have to tell Nicky! He’s going to die!” Claire continues to scream.
“Tell me what?” Nick joins them.
“Come on, everyone. Dinner time.” Bizzy ignores them and motions us to the table.
I sit at the end with Bizzy on one side and Nick on the other. Claire bounces in her seat, her lips pursed to the point they’ve turned white.
“What exactly has you so chirpy?” I ask her, pouring wine into Bizzy’s glass.
“Biz has the best story to share. You and Mathis may not understand, but Nicky is going to appreciate every detail. Every single humiliating detail.”
“Claire, you are terrible! This is really sad.”
“Now, you have to tell me… Remember, it’s in our code.” Nick refers to their stupid childhood pact.
“Okay, well, I had an appointment today, and it was very interesting.”
“You had an appointment?” I look at her, confused. “What for?”
“It was just a gynecologist appointment, nothing unusual.” She takes a sip of wine and sits back, and Claire turns her whole body to face her.
“Not sure what could be so interesting, but don’t keep me hanging.” Nick starts eating, looking at her expectantly.
“I’ve been going to the same group for a long time and know almost everyone in the office. Since they’re in the offices attached to the hospital, we see each other sometimes in passing, especially the OB side…”
Bells start ringing in my head, and sweat breaks out on my neck.
It can’t be… Please, don’t let her say it… Holy Fucking God, PLEASE NO!
“…she didn’t see me, but I saw her. She’s still as nasty and evil as ever. Nothing’s changed. When I was done, I stopped by the nurse’s office to say hello to a few people. Sasha was the topic of conversation. She’s pregnant!”
“Poor fucking bastard. Who’d willingly ever hit that shit? I get she’s somewhat attractive, but she’s a cunt.” Nick shakes his head.
My mouth fuses shut, refusing to open and stop the train wreck happening in front of me. I know what Bizzy is about to say, but still pray I’m wrong.
“Apparently, he really is a poor bastard. She’s still as hateful and self-righteous as ever. It seems the whole office tries to avoid her, and the doctor has recommended several other practicing OBs within the hospital. She refuses to leave, saying she’ll only have the best.
“The nurse taking her vitals did a blood draw. Sasha winced and explained she had given some blood earlier in the day, saying it was for specialized genetic testing—which is obviously a lie because the doctor would want to be a part of any decisions regarding testing and probably offer to do it in their office. When she asked if the father would be joining her for today’s appointment, Sasha became flustered, making excuses he was trying to make it but has a very important meeting. I tried to stop myself from eavesdropping, but I couldn’t!” Bizzy starts to giggle and takes another sip of her wine.
“So then, another woman walked in. I didn’t know her, but she was only too happy to jump in on the conversation. She said Sasha came in two weeks ago, demanding an ultrasound, saying she needed pictures and measurements. They tried to explain it was still very early in the pregnancy, but she insisted. While the sonographer was preparing the table, Sasha took a call and started going crazy again. She was yelling at the person on the other end of the line, not caring she had someone else in the room.”
“What did she say?” Nick’s looking at Bizzy with a smug smile, obviously enjoying the story.
I, on the other hand, am trying to swallow the bile rising in my throat.
“Something along the lines of, ‘This baby is his whether he wants to admit it or not. You tell his fuckhead of a lawyer we’ll do the paternity test, but then we’re doing this my way. He forgets I know him and his family well. The last thing they want is any kind of scandal. I’ll blow the lid off his precious life if he doesn’t start cooperating.’”
“Sounds like the dad is in for a lifetime of misery and hate with that bitch.”
The last bit of strength I have falters, and my fingers go limp, dropping the fork to