By the time I unpacked all my clothes and spent a few hours working, I returned downstairs to find Gabby sitting on the couch, blanket over her lap, a glass of red wine in her hand and a Styrofoam container holding a massive pile of tortilla chips on the coffee table in front of her.
“You ordered Mexican food?” I asked. And she hadn’t told me?
I wasn’t sure if I should be offended. Mostly hurt. What kind of friend ordered Mexican and didn’t let their friend place an order?
“Chips and queso and a few bottles of wine delivered via Door Dash. I didn’t know if you were sleeping and I didn’t want to wake you. There’s more in the kitchen.”
“Oh. Thanks.”
It was a déjà vu to last week when Garrett ordered for me, but a girl could never have too much chips and queso. The smell of the spicy cheese drew me toward the kitchen.
“Um,” I mumbled, as I took in the island. There were five bowls of queso. Five. Even for me, that was excessive. And the wine?
“Hey Gabby?” I leaned back around a wall and she turned, face me over her shoulder. “A case of wine?”
She grinned and took a sip of the glass in her hand. “Twenty percent discount if you ordered twelve.”
“Right.” Because that made sense.
How long was she planning on staying, though? “You know I can’t drink, right?” I called out, moving back to the bowls of cheese. I grabbed one and a roll of paper towels from beneath the sink. While Garrett was gone, I considered helping to start decorate his home. Simple things, like a paper towel holder. Or a soap holder. Toothbrush holder. The idea of bracing my toothbrush on the edge of the sink near where his beard clippings fell made my stomach turn.
Men. They didn’t think of all the small things.
Like hand towels.
“Duh,” Gabby said, as I settled on my knees between a chair and the coffee table. Without hesitating, I dove in, groaning as that first taste of cheese fired up my senses.
“Garrett and I had this last week but I swear, if there was one food I could eat for the rest of my life it’d be Mexican.”
She snorted. “That’s not a food group.”
“Should be,” I mumbled over a mouthful of chips and cheese. “But if I had to narrow it down, it’d be cheese. All kinds.”
“I hear that. As long as I can drink wine.”
“You okay?”
“I will be.” She shrugged. “You find out what Garrett left you yet?”
“What?”
“The kitchen cupboard. He texted me.”
I’d totally forgotten. I pushed off the floor, shoving down my jogger sweats that had ridden up to my calves, and glared at her. “He called you?”
“Texted. Told me to make sure you use it.”
“Did you peek?” What in the hell had he left for me?
She gave me a wicked look. “Would I do that?”
I huffed. “Of course you would.”
“He said I can use it, too!” she called out. For the first time since she arrived at his doorstep she had a smile on her face so I hurried to the kitchen, opened the cupboard he’d told me about and then picked my jaw up off the floor.
“He left us his credit card.” I waved it in the air, gawked at it like it was an alien life form I’d never seen before.
“Yeah. That’s what those little plastic rectangles usually are called.”
“Why?”
“He told me to take you shopping. Buy maternity clothes or whatever you need. Said he needs shit for his house. Basically, my favorite knocked up bitch, we’re going shopping.”
Oh, hell yeah we were.
25
Lizzie
“I don’t know if I’ve ever been so exhausted.”
Gabby collapsed on the couch, piles and piles of shopping bags surrounding her, some falling onto her lap as she kicked off her shoes.
“That’s probably because you bought out four complete stores.”
I dropped my two shopping bags near the bottom of the stairs. This girl took her brother’s assignment seriously. I was pretty certain she’d bought an entire wardrobe, including shoes and accessories, all while I struggled to find anything cute or worth purchasing. Who knew there’d be such a lack of maternity clothes and the few stores we’d found exclusively for expecting women, had clothes that were for when I was so much further along. It was infuriating. All I managed to purchase were a couple pairs of jeans in a size up, three longer T-shirts that would leave room for some growth in the stomach, and the stupid paper towel holder I’d wanted to get for Garrett’s kitchen counter.
Every other time I picked something else, I became paralyzed with indecision. Would he like it? Did he want my help? Did he want to do it together? Was buying too much for his house too soon?
Ugh. I was giving myself a migraine.
“Do you want your smoothie?” I held up the drink carrier. We’d stopped at Smoothie King on the way home from our mall extravaganza because I was desperate for something in my stomach before I got nauseous again.
This morning I threw up, but I chalked it up to being up late last night to watch Vegas beat Anaheim. Garrett called earlier this morning before his team had to catch their plane up to San Francisco, encouraging me to do as much damage as possible to his credit card balance.
Gabrielle took that as her life’s sole mission.
“I’m too tired to drink anything,” she muttered from where she was plopped on the couch. Waving her hand, she eyed the smoothie. “But maybe I could drink some of it before I pass out.”
“You’re a piece of work,” I told her, laughing as I pulled the cup out of the carrier and handed it to her. “I’m going to go upstairs and take a nap. You’re all right down here?”
“Fine. I suppose I’ll have to model all my new clothes by myself then.”
It wasn’t possible for a woman to sound so put out, and I shook my head. “Give me an hour or two and then I can watch.”
Her head fell to the back of the couch, black hair pulled up in some fancy bun with braids that would have taken me days to figure out but she made it look effortless.
“You’re a good friend, Lizzie.”
“Thanks, but I’m pretty sure you should be saying that to your brother. He’s the one who bought out Nordstrom’s on your behalf today.”
She closed her eyes and sighed. “Every girl needs some retail therapy in her life.”
I grabbed my bags from the bottom of the stairs. “Did it help?”
She turned her head in my direction, barely managing to open her eyes. “No, not really.”
“You’ll be okay, you know that though, right?”
“Of course I will be. But that’s because I’m awesome. I just need some time to lick my wounds and figure out what to do next.”
I stopped on the stairs, hand curled around the banister. Watching Gabby get sleepy was making me even more tired. And when she yawned, I had to fight my own. “I don’t think Garrett will care if you stay here while you do that.”
“I know. He’s the best.” One eye peeked open again. “You are, too. Thanks for loving him.”