Well, I’m glad your new boyfriend is keeping you occupied. Why, with the drugs and the new guy, you must be having a grand old time.
I also wanted to remind you to keep your calcium uptake up.
As expected, he’s all business. I don’t know what it is, but when he’s being so stern like this, I’m driven to try to break his shell, to loosen him up a little. He becomes a fun challenge.
* * *
Dear Weston,
Yes, I am drinking a glass of milk right now. You seem to be extremely knowledgeable in all subjects concerning pregnancy. I have one question for you. I’ve been really horny — is it safe for me to masturbate?
* * *
Dear Mirella,
: )))
It is perfectly normal to experience an elevated libido during pregnancy as a result of elevated hormones and increased blood flow to the pelvic area, resulting in engorged genitals. Yes… it is absolutely safe for you to masturbate.
Damn, always so serious.
* * *
Dear Weston,
You are starting to really turn me on. : )
* * *
Dear Mirella,
I must say goodbye now. Keep well.
* * *
I think about Gabe as I read the emails again. I realize I’m behaving rather badly, flirting with Weston. I’m just so confused. My life is excruciatingly frustrating at the moment. I just want to pretend everything is fine. I just want life to not be so complicated, and so serious, just for once.
It’s Saturday morning and Gwen is making Mickey Mouse shaped pancakes again. The girls absolutely love them. She’s spent quite a few nights here in the last little while.
Claire wiggles in her seat. “Do a whip cream bow tie with blueberry polka-dots like last time.”
I smile. “Sorry, demanding little girl, isn’t she?”
Gwen smiles up at me as she slaps three perfectly round pancakes (one large one and two small ones) on the colorful plate. “She’s adorable. I love this.”
“When are you two going to have kids?” I ask, out of the blue. “You’d be a great mom.”
She shoots me a wide smile. “Well, actually, we’ve started trying.”
My spirits lift instantly. “Really? I’m so excited.”
“Yes. I’m thirty-one now, it’s time.”
“If you get knocked up soon, our babies can play together,” I gush. “Wouldn’t that be wonderful?”
She pours two glasses of orange juice. “It would be awesome. We could go on stroller walks together. And shopping for baby stuff, and Baby and Mommy yoga classes.”
The doorbell rings. I tie my housecoat closed and try to fix my hair as I make my way to the door. I hate pop-ins. I especially hate pop-ins when I look like hell. I wonder if it’s Gabe. I do want to see him but he’s not supposed to come until tomorrow. He can’t just be changing things up like this without contacting me first. I curse under my breath.
As soon as I pull the door open, my breath catches as I see Weston’s face. He stares down at the patio stones, not quite looking at me. He’s still bruised up pretty badly, but he looks damn good still, in light grey chinos and a thin navy blue t-shirt. It occurs to me that I haven’t seen him in weeks.
He rubs the back of his neck as his gaze slowly lifts to meet mine, but just for a second. “I’m sorry to just drop by like this,” he says, not quite looking at me. He clears his throat. “I-I just got in my car this morning for a ride, and I ended up here.”
I cock a brow. “I thought you didn’t like to drive,” I say, eyeing the sleek convertible Beamer in my driveway.
“I do occasionally,” he tells me, still standing on my step — I’ve yet to invite him in. “To clear my head,” he explains, “to blow off some steam. I just wanted to check on you.”
I wonder why he’s really here. I wonder how he knew where to find me. But then I remember — his driver has picked me up here so many times. And he’s also had a private investigator following me these recent weeks.
I rub my nose vigorously. “I was just finishing my line of coke,” I joke. “Come in.”
He smiles as he steps in and takes in the space. “So this is where you live? Nice.”
I know my house must seem very common, middle-class to him. “It’s all right.”
He smiles, gazing past me. I look back to see the girls and Gwen standing there, like statues.