Lucy takes a sip of her strawberry lemonade and sets it down, her hands shaking just a little bit. “Well, yes, but it will be worth it. And if it doesn’t work, we’ll adopt. There are other ways to have a baby.”
Something lights up in Grace’s eyes that gives me an uneasy feeling. “Adoption, huh? You’d be okay with that?”
“Yes. Absolutely.”
“Interesting.”
The way she says it makes that uneasy feeling grow into a panic. She’s up to something. I know her far too well. There’s a gleam in her eye and it’s not a good one. Whatever is going through her head is not going to be good for me.
“You know, Samuel and I have been talking about adoption as well,” she mentions casually about her and her husband.
“Oh yeah?” Lucy asks curiously, but I can see that she’s nervous as to where Grace is going with this. It’s the way she’s talking about it that’s troubling us.
She sips on her glass of red wine. “Mm hmm,” she hums, looking at me over the rim of her goblet.
“That’s… good, right?”
I’m content sitting here, letting them have a conversation without me. Munching on the soft, warm bread.
“Yes. We’ve actually chosen a mother, too.”
That’s surprising to me, but by the look on Lucy’s face, she’s just as shocked as I am. This is the first we’ve heard of Grace and Samuel looking into adoption and now they’ve chosen a mother? That’s fast, right? “Oh, so you’re doing private adoption?”
“Something like that.”
“Your salads,” our waitress says, placing mine in front of me first, then placing the others down. “Is there anything else I can get for you?”
“No, thank you,” Lucy says softly and I shake my head.
I pick up the salt shaker to add a bit to my salad but Grace reaches over and takes it from me before I can add any to the dressing.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she snaps.
“Uh, trying to eat my salad?”
“You really think you need more salt in your diet? Your ankles are already swollen enough as it is,” she reminds me, looking down at my feet and curling her lip like I’m repulsive. “Plus, you ordered a really heavy meal, too.”
“Huh?”
“Alfredo? Heavy cream. Cheese. Starchy pasta. It’s like you’re trying to be as unhealthy as possible. How much weight have you gained? By the looks of it, you’ve already added thirty-five or forty pounds and let’s face it, you weren’t exactly thin to begin with.”
Did she just say… “Pardon me?”
She finishes her bite of lettuce and wipes her mouth then lifts a shoulder and looks me straight in the eyes. “Samuel agrees. He’s noticed, too. But, that comes with the territory for him, you know? What with him being a personal trainer, and all,” she reminds me, haughtily. This is getting beyond ridiculous.
Salad forgotten, I stare slack-jawed at my big sister. The woman who I’ve looked up to and bragged about all my life.
First of all. Samuel isn’t a personal trainer. After he was fired from his job as a marketing manager because he was caught sending dick pics to his assistant whom he was having an affair with, he spent the next two months at home doing absolutely nothing. Well, he was probably doing someone, even if it was through online chat rooms on porn sites, before Grace had had enough and told him he needed to find something to keep him busy.
Hence the personal trainer gig.
My guess is it’s just his way of getting his hands on women, but I keep my mouth shut. That’s Grace’s problem, not mine.
Aside from telling the family what happened, Grace had worked her magic to keep the reason he was fired all hush-hush, probably because she was embarrassed. Maybe it had something to do with their trying to adopt a baby, but the fact that this is the first I’ve heard of it tells me that wasn’t a factor to her covering up his affair. She just didn’t want to be seen as the woman who couldn’t keep her husband happy. At least, that’s what she always said of marriages where one of the partners stepped out. Apparently she doesn’t care if he’s sleeping with other women as long as no one else finds out about it. That’s what being judgmental gets you. Karma.
But back to Samuel being a dick about my weight? If he’s talking shit about me and making fun of the weight I’ve gained because I’m pregnant? He’s going to find out what it feels like to be sat on by my pregnant ass. Or kicked in the nuts. What a jerk! Who does he think he is? And why would Grace put up with it and allow him to talk like that?
My stomach is queasy, the dinner our waitress just delivered not a bit appetizing despite the fact that I’ve been craving — and eating a lot of — alfredo sauce for the past few months.
Once again, Grace continues chattering on happily, paying no attention to the fact that I am stunned into silence and Lucy is, well, uncomfortable as ever. She keeps giving me soft smiles but they’re not reassuring.
“Have you and Nik talked about it at all, Ashley?”
Hearing my name causes me to look up. Grace is staring at me like she’s been talking to me for a while and I haven’t been paying attention.
“Sorry?”
“Adoption. Have you talked about it?”
I look at Lucy, hoping for clarification, but all I get from her is a look of sympathy.
Automatically placing a hand on my stomach, I shake my head. Why would we talk about adoption? We’re having a baby.
“I don’t understand,” I admit, hating to do so. By the look on Grace’s face, that was her hope. She wants me to look stupid.
“No, I don’t suppose you would. Adoption, Ashley. Have you and Nik considered giving the baby up for adoption?”
“Why would we do that?”
“Well, like I said, you two are hardly ready to be parents. You aren’t even together.”
“What does that have to do with it? And why do you think we’re not ready?”
“Grace,” Lucy whispers. “Not here. Not now.”
“Not here, not now, what? What are you talking about?” I ask Lucy but she just looks away. “Would someone please explain to me what y’all are talking about?” My voice is rising and I don’t care that people are turning to look at us. I feel ambushed by my sisters. They’re holding a secret without including me. Worse yet, the secret seems to be about me.
“Are you really that dense that you haven’t figured it out?” Grace asks me, practically sneering. Right now she’s looking at me like I’m no better than the… well, I would say gum on the bottom of her shoe but I know better than to assume she’d ever allow that to happen.
“Figured what out?”
“Samuel and I would like to adopt your baby.”
Chapter Eighteen
Ashley
If I was stunned silent before, that’s nothing compared to right now.
“You’re kidding, right?” I ask, hopeful that’s the case. I mean, it’s a terrible joke, but this being a joke would be better than her being serious. Plus, Grace isn’t known for her humor so it’s very likely that she is trying to be funny but severely missing the mark.