by Cat Lavoie
The phone nearly drops out of my hand as I stare at the person leaning against my door. It can’t be. I must be hallucinating.
“Hey there, Rox,” Steffi says, her hands delicately cradling a huge pregnant belly.
Chapter Four
“Steffi?” I stare at my sister, pulse racing and head spinning. Even though I recognize the girl standing before me, I can’t make sense of what I’m seeing. My baby sister... is having a baby?
“Can you believe how freakin’ huge I am?”
“Not really, no.” My usually petite sister looks like she hasn’t gained an ounce of weight except for her belly, which is perfectly round under her tight sparkly T-shirt. I bet it’s not even a maternity shirt, either. It’s probably just a size bigger than what she usually wears. Blessed genes, she has. Even during pregnancy she looks amazing. Me? I inherited the flabby Quinn genes from my mother’s side of the family even though everyone—including my mom and sisters—escaped them. I’ll probably have swollen ankles and a triple chin from the moment of conception. I peel my eyes away from Steffi’s bump and look up at her. “How?”
“Really? You’re pushing thirty now, big sis. I’m sure you know how. If not, I think we need to have a little talk.”
I shake my head, annoyed. “I mean... who?”
“Can we keep the questions for later? I’ve just been on a plane for a million hours. The food—if you can call it that—was total crap, my back is killing me and I have to pee like a race horse.”
I stare at her, taking it all in, not moving a muscle.
“Rox. Door. Now.”
“Right, right. Sorry.” I fumble around in my bag until I find my keys.
As soon as the door is open, Steffi throws her purse across the room and waddles to the bathroom, closing the door behind her. I hear her sigh with relief a few seconds later.
“Do Mom and Dad know?” I ask, resting my head on the bathroom door.
There’s a long moment of silence before she answers. “No.”
“Izzie?”
“What do you think?”
Stupid question. If our big sister knew, she’d be here breathing down Steffi’s neck interrogating her as if she was a criminal on trial. But it’s not as if my parents’ reaction will be any better. “When are you going to tell Mom?”
Steffi sighs. “Rox? Can I ask you something?” She cracks the door open and looks at me. All of a sudden she’s five years old again and begging me not to tell Mom about the broken vase in the living room.
“Anything.”
Steffi steps out of the bathroom. “No more questions, okay? Not for now, at least. I came here because I knew you wouldn’t lecture me like Izzie or Mom. For now, I just want to eat and sleep. I think the little one is hungry.” She touches her stomach and smiles.
“How... far... how far along are you?” I ask before I can stop myself. “Sorry. That was a question.”
Steffi laughs. “I’ll allow it,” she says, suddenly sounding like Izzie. “Twenty-five weeks. Or six months.”
“Wow.” I can’t keep my eyes off my sister’s belly. “Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?”
“The doctor knows. She wrote it down during my last ultrasound but I didn’t want to know.”
My heart sinks at the thought of my sister going to the doctor alone. I would have wanted to be there to hold her hand and stare at the screen until the gray and white blur became a baby. Her baby.
“Roxy...”
“Right, right. No more questions.”
“No. I just wanted to say ... thanks. Mind if I go lay down? I think we’re more tired than hungry, actually.” She touches her bump again and I’m surprised how casually she refers to herself and the baby as we. My sister is two people now.
I stop her as she heads for the living room. “There’s no way I’m letting you sleep on the couch. Ollie’s room is free. You can sleep there.” I feel a small pang of sadness when I remember that Ollie is gone. How strange that this morning I couldn’t think of anything else besides his departure and now I’d nearly forgotten about it. Almost instantly I’m smacked in the face with the memory of Ollie’s breath on my neck and his arms holding me pressed against him. I gasp a bit. I really wish that part had stayed forgotten.
“Are you okay?” Steffi asks.
I hadn’t realized that I was scrunching up my face in an effort to erase those images from my mind. Stick to the plan: deny, deny, deny. If I keep denying it, it’ll be like it never happened.
I laugh it off. “I’m fine. I just remembered I have something important to do at work. Maybe I’ll go to the office later this afternoon. But I’ll set up your bed first.” I head off towards Ollie’s room.
“Actually, can I have your room?” Steffi asks. “It’s so much nicer.”
“Of course.” My eyes follow her as she makes her way to my room, one hand on her belly and the other on the small of her back. I still can’t believe that this is my sister; the same girl who thinks wearing last season’s shoes is a punishable crime and who quits a job as soon as it gets boring. She’s only twenty-two years old. What is she going to do? How can she be a mother when she’s still practically a child?
I close the door behind me after Steffi falls asleep in my room. What am I going to do? Should I tell Ethan about what happened this morning? But that would go against my brilliant Denial Plan, wouldn’t it? And what if he gets so angry he decides he’s had enough of me? What if he decides I’m more trouble than I’m worth? That wouldn’t be too far from the truth, would it?
I throw myself on the couch and exhale a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Even though I feel like I should be doing something more helpful right now instead of staying motionless, I don’t have the strength to do anything but close my eyes and fall asleep.
My nap could have easily turned into a full night’s sleep if I hadn’t been woken up by a call from Emma. And even though I didn’t have any intention of spilling the beans, as soon as she asks “how’s it going?” in her chirpy little voice, I break down and tell her all about what happened in the last few hours.
She’s speechless. “You’re kidding me, right?”
“Nope. My best friend kissed me and my baby sister is having a baby. It’s been a very eventful day.”
“I’m calling Adam and Tali. See you at the Quid in an hour.”
“But...”
“No buts. You’re in a crisis. You need friends. And alcohol.”
We always end up at the Quid if someone in our group is going through a crisis. When Tali’s grandmother died, she couldn’t fly back home for her funeral because the plane ticket was too expensive. And even if my friends and I pooled our money together, we could only get Tali as far as the St. Petersburg in Florida—nowhere near the one in Russia. So we all gathered at the Quid and toasted her beloved Babushka with Adam’s best vodka. And when Emma and Dean broke up last year, we were all there to be her shoulder to cry on and to supply her with an endless stream of fruity cocktails and tell her what an idiot we all thought he was. When they got back together a few days later, we went back to the Quid to celebrate with more fruity cocktails and took back all of our idiot comments. And I don’t think I can count the number of times we’ve come together because one of Adam’s disastrous relationships fell apart. Now that I think about it, it’s never been my turn. Until now.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” I ask Steffi for the twentieth time since she’s woken up. “Everyone would love to see you.” My friends are big fans of Steffi, and Adam once described her as ‘a skinnier, hipper Roxy with a better fashion sense’ right before I kicked him in the shin. Traitor.
“Thanks for inviting me, Rox. But I don’t want to see anyone tonight. I just want to stay in and watch a movie or something.”
I don’t think I’ve ever witnessed Steffi turning down an opportunity to go out. Then again, I’ve never seen her pee every twenty minutes and wolf down two sandwiches, half a bag of potato chips and a dozen of t
he mini-quiches left over from yesterday.
“Can you make me another sandwich?” Steffi asks.
I smile. “Of course. I’ll make you a few in case you get hungry tonight.” I might not be sure how to help Steffi deal with everything she’s going through but food—and especially the many benefits of a good food coma—I know.
Before I leave the apartment, I make a quick call to Greta who’s already left a dozen messages. The first few times she called, I was fast asleep and honestly did not hear the phone. After that, I just kept pressing Ignore every time her name flashed up on the screen. But now it’s time to face the music.
I dial her number and silently pray that her phone isn’t glued to her hand as usual. After a few rings the voicemail kicks in and I sigh with relief.
“Hi Greta, it’s Roxy,” I say, trying to make my voice sound as concerned as possible. “I feel so bad for missing all your calls. Something’s come up with my family and I won’t be able to come in this weekend. I’m very sorry. I’m sure we can figure everything out on Monday. See you then.”
When I walk into the Quid for the second time today, Adam, Tali and Emma are already there. I can see that Emma has filled everyone in on my little ‘situation’ because our table is loaded with drinks. Adam pounces on me like wild gazelles do on Animal Planet.
He hugs me so tight I can barely breathe. “Oh, sweetie. Everything is going to be all right.” He lets me go and I gasp for air.
I look at their serious faces and suddenly I’m laughing. Laughing so hard my stomach hurts.
“This is how a mental breakdown starts,” I hear Tali tell Emma matter-of-factly.
I pull myself together and hug each one of them. “Thanks for doing this, guys. But I’m fine. Really, I’m fine.” They all look at me as if I’m crazy. “Really, I’m really fine. I assure you, I am 100% fine.”
“Do you realize you’ve said fine about a million times?” Adam asks, sitting next to me. “That means you are anything but fine.”
Tali leans over the table. “Have you heard from Ollie?” She’s whispering, as if Ollie might jump out from around the corner.
I nod. I wanted to wait a bit before telling my friends about the email I got right before heading out but I’m sure they can smell it on my breath. “An email.”
“What did it say?” Emma asks. All eyes are on me and I know they’re waiting for something juicy.
I hate to disappoint. “Nothing much, really.” I try to remember the exact details. “He goes on and on about the uneventful flight and how huge Heathrow is and riding the shuttle bus from the airport to the hotel and then he describes the hotel in so much detail I could draw you a picture of his room. Didn’t say anything about what happened, though.”
“What did you write back?” Emma asks.
“I told him all about the sandwich I was making. Scandalous stuff, huh? Someone should write a book about us.”
Adam shakes his head. “No offense, but somebody already has. It’s called: ‘This Book is About Two Clueless People Who Should Soooo Be Together But They’re So Dense They Can’t Figure It Out.’ It’s getting 5 star reviews on Amazon. You should totally check it out.”
I stare at him to make sure he’s serious. He stares back, no hint of humor in his face. I feel my heart sink. “Isn’t that the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever heard, guys?” I turn and look at Emma and Tali, expecting them to roll their eyes at Adam’s crazy theory. But Emma looks down at her drink, playing with the tiny umbrella floating in her piña colada. Tali is looking at me like I’m the village idiot.
I can’t believe this. “Come on, guys,” I plead. “I am not in love with Ollie and he sure as hell isn’t in love with me. We’re friends.”
“Adam is my friend,” Tali says, reaching out and grabbing Adam’s hand. “But last time I checked, he didn’t have his tongue shoved down my throat.”
Adam kisses the back of Tali’s hand. “And I never will. That’s a promise.”
“See?” Tali says. “Friends don’t fondle each other in the middle of the sidewalk. Not unless they want to be more than friends.”
I don’t know what to say. I open my mouth to protest again but no sound comes out. I don’t have the energy for this craziness. I look at the only person who hasn’t spoken yet.
Emma squirms in her seat and clears her throat. “So tell me about that sandwich you were making.” She takes a sip of her drink and gives Adam and Tali a look, hopefully telling them to back off. Saint Emma the Peacemaker saves the day.
Adam is the first to fold. “Okay, I’ll drop it. Maybe it was one of those accidental insertions of tongue in throat. Now tell me about that stupid sandwich,” he says, giving me his best fake smile.
Food. Now that’s something I feel safe talking about. “I cooked up some chicken cutlets with onions and sweet bell peppers and mushrooms and I served it on a sourdough bun with ranch dressing. I made one for Steffi and—between mouthfuls—she said it was the best thing she ever ate.”
Adam smiles at me and I know exactly what he’s thinking. He’s always trying to find something that will make the Quid one of the city’s hotspots, like a signature drink or a sandwich people can’t get enough of. “I need to get that on the menu.”
“It’ll cost you.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “How much?”
This is my chance to get something I’ve always wanted. “Free food for life?”
Adam shakes his head. “Sorry. You eat way too much and I’m not made of money.”
“Well, thank God for that,” Tali jumps in. “If you were made of money you’d be all over yourself like a cheap suit. And you’d probably end up screwing yourself over and leaving yourself for someone richer.”
Tali, Emma and I laugh and, after a few seconds of trying to act insulted, Adam joins in. “So, when are you going out with College Boy?” he asks Tali.
We all turn to look at her. She’d given her number to this eighteen-year-old kid a few weeks ago and he’d finally called her on Friday night. What was his name again? Jaden? Braden? Brandon?
“Not before next Friday. Brady has finals. Adam, why are you looking at me like that?”
Adam tilts his head and smiles. “I’m wondering if you’re old enough to be a cougar.”
“Whatever. I just hope he aces the finals. And by ace I mean fondle and by finals I mean my boobs.”
I almost choke on my drink.
“Nice one.” Adam raises his hand for a high-five and Tali slaps her hand against his. Once again, all four of us erupt into a fit of laughter that doesn’t stop until Jenny runs up to our table to tell Adam about another disaster in the kitchen.
It’s pretty late when we all stumble out of the Quid. I’m the only one who hasn’t had a little too much to drink but I still trip over my own feet and almost fall flat on my face. Adam and the girls start laughing so loud a few people turn around to stare at me. It’s nice to know your friends have your back.
“Are you okay?” Emma slurs. I can smell the piña coladas on her breath. I stopped counting how many she was drinking after she ordered her fourth one.
“I’m fine.”
“Tell me,” she says, putting her arm around my neck and dragging me away from Adam and Tali. “Who’s a better kisser? Ollie or Ethan?”
“Ethan. Hands down,” I lie, as images of Ollie holding me creep into my brain again. Get out of my head, Ollie.
“Really? I would have thought Ollie would be more passionate, more intense. I’d love to run my hands through that hair of his. I’m so jealous of you.” I’ve always suspected that Emma had a crush on Ollie. She’s way too loyal to Dean to say or do anything, though. I know it’s the rum talking right now.
“Nah, it was pretty boring. I don’t even know why I made such a big deal out of it. It was nothing.”
Emma crushes me against her. “You are such a liar, Roxy Rule. But I love you so much. I love you like a sister.”
“I love you too, Em. Maybe it’s tim
e we got you home, huh?” I say, raising my hand when I see a cab coming down the street.
“I’ll go with her,” Tali says, coming towards us. She and Emma live a few blocks from each other. Adam and I kiss them both goodbye and watch them drive away.
“I’ll call you tomorrow. I’m going to walk home,” I tell Adam, giving him a hug.
“Oh, no you’re not.” I know that tone. He’s not joking. “It’s late and there are a lot of weirdoes in this city.”
I stick my tongue out at him. “You should know. You’ve dated most of them.”
“That’s because I’m leaving all the dull and uninteresting boys to you.”
“You sound just like Ollie.”
“I hope you’re not expecting me to kiss you or anything.”
My heart sinks. “That’s not funny.”
“I’m sorry,” he says. “You know we’re just teasing, right? We’re all here for you. Anything you need.”
“Can I walk home?”
“Not a chance,” he says, hailing a cab and kissing me on the cheek.
A few minutes later I’m walking down the hall to my apartment, struggling to get my keys out of my bag. It takes me a few seconds to realize that there’s a bit of a commotion going on. Voices. Angry voices. Must be the Browns in 4A again. Their fights have been getting louder and louder over the last few weeks. From what I’ve overheard through the thin walls, Mrs. Brown thinks her husband is having an affair because he’s been coming home late and acting very distant. I stop and listen. Maybe she’s found a new piece of evidence that points to another woman. Is it wrong that I’m entertained by my neighbor’s drama?
“Leave me alone,” a familiar voice shouts. “I don’t owe you any explanation. It’s my life, Izzie. Stay out of it.”
I freeze in the middle of the hallway. It’s not the Browns. It’s the Rules. Two of them. In my apartment.
A door opens and Mrs. Merchant, our next-door neighbor, pops her head out. “Roxy, dear. Could you take care of the noise, please? I’m afraid it might be waking the dead.”
