Elise is the first to enter when I open the door.
“Oh my God, Ana! This place is perfect,” she says with a gasp. She reaches out to squeeze my arm while her gaze travels from one wall to another.
“It’s a good size,” Sara says with a smile and a nod, stepping in just behind Elise. “Hi, Ana. Thanks for having us.”
I get a whiff of an enviable perfume when she leans in to hug me.
“Of course,” I say with a smile, closing the door after Bailey steps in, all smiles and wide eyes. My place is kind of cramped with this much energy. But it’s nice too. It was really quiet before.
“Hi, puppy!” Bailey kneels down immediately to pamper Hobbes, who attacks her fingers with kisses of the sloppy variety. She looks up at me with a question on her lips.
“How are you feeling?” Bailey, the doctor, asks. She looks me up and down, and I find myself smoothing my tousled hair.
“Sleepy, mostly,” I say with a chuckle.
“That’s totally normal.” Bailey gives me her dazzling smile.
“That’s a relief.” I sigh and wave the women toward the couch. “I haven’t had time to set up the TV, but I’ve got my laptop if you want some background noise.”
“Speaking of background noise,” Elise says in a singsong voice, pulling a small package from her purse wrapped in bright yellow tissue paper with white polka dots.
A gift? “What’s that?”
“Open it!” Elise practically squeals, tossing the package to me and plopping down on the couch. There are a couple other presents—a dark pink envelope resting on Sara’s knees and a purple gift bag resting at Bailey’s feet.
What’s going on?
With a little suspicion in my expression, I carefully unwrap the present, revealing a high-tech baby monitor that promises to hook up with my phone. It looks expensive.
“Oh my gosh,” I whisper, searching for answers in the expectant faces of my friends. I clasp the gift to my heart and struggle to find words.
“You look like you’re about to have a heart attack. It’s just a little informal baby shower for an amazing woman,” Sara says matter-of-factly, giving me a warm look.
“We wanted to spoil you!” Bailey cries out, beaming from the couch cushions. “Please let us.”
That pesky lump is making a home in my throat again, and my eyes are welling up with tears. These dang hormones have me crying 24/7.
“You guys didn’t have to do that.”
After several protests that, yes, they did indeed have to do that, I open the other two presents. From Sara, I receive a gift card to a local baby boutique for a dollar amount that makes my jaw drop. Oh, to have an attorney’s salary . . .
“Their stuff is pretty damn cute, or you could just blow it all on a top-of-the-line stroller,” Sara says with a sly smile.
I reach out to her with both arms, wrapping her in a tight hug. “Thank you,” I whisper.
She rubs my back comfortingly. “You got it, babe,” she whispers back with a chuckle.
“Me next!” Bailey chirps, shoving a gift bag at me with an enthusiasm I’ll never replicate.
Tossing the tissue paper to the side, I discover an assortment of small, thoughtful gifts: a baby thermometer, seven cloth diapers, a package that contains bottles with an assortment of different-sized nipples, a plush elephant stuffed animal, and a soft gray blanket.
Rubbing the material of the exquisitely soft blanket between thumb and forefinger, I look up at Bailey, who watches me with a knowing grin.
“I’m gonna love your kid so much.” Bailey sighs happily. “I can already tell.”
“Aww,” I coo, melting. “Come here! All of you, come here.”
They do, wrapping me in their arms and soothing scent. Cloaked in the warmth of my friends’ embrace, I smile as Hobbes curls up against my feet. I’ve never felt safer or more at peace. Well . . . except for when I’m curled up in bed with a certain mountain of muscle.
“I have to ask,” Sara says once we’ve untangled our mess of limbs. “What’s going on with you and Grant?”
Elise chimes in before I can even open my mouth. “Yeah! Justin said he’d been housing all of your stuff in his fancy condo ever since you-know-who got demoted.”
“Good fucking riddance,” Bailey says.
I flash them all an appreciative smile. Agreed.
“Grant has been . . . a really, really good friend to me.”
“Just a friend?” Sara’s eyes narrow on me in that scary lawyer way.
Before I can come up with another non-answer, the door buzzes.
“That must be the pizza!” Elise says.
When no one makes a move to answer the door, I remember that this my apartment and that would be my job.
“Oh! I—I’ll get it,” I stammer, my cheeks warm. The other girls chuckle amongst themselves, but not in a mean way. I don’t mind the teasing, actually.
I’m digging through my wallet for small bills to tip the guy when I swing open the door.
“Hey, hold on one second—”
“Pizza’s here!” Becca bellows as she parades through the door, holding the pizza box high over her head.
I drop my wallet in shock, covering a gasp with my hands. “Becca?”
The women in the living room positively roar with laughter. Becca charges ahead and sets the pizza down on the coffee table before them, turning to take a bow.
“I thought you weren’t coming!”
“It was a surprise. I didn’t have time to buy you anything, so this is my present to you,” Becca says, gesturing to herself. Stepping toward me and placing two warm, pizza-scented hands on my shoulders, she gives me a very stern look. “Ana.”
I stand at attention, my eyes locked on Becca’s.
“I am an exhausted mother of a crazy newborn gremlin,” she says. “I’m tired and emotional all the time. I’m a walking corpse. But I’m also living proof that your life will not end when you have a baby. You will still go out, you will still have fun, and you will still have your friends at your side through it all.”
I choke on a sob, covering my face with my hands. What did I do to deserve these friends?
“You made her cry!” Elise says, mockingly accusing Becca.
“She’ll be fine.” Becca laughs, pulling me into her arms and rocking me from side to side.
Yes. She’ll be just fine.
24
* * *
Cherished
Ana
When I look down, I can’t see my toes anymore. My belly is so big, so full of life. It’s so big, in fact, that I had to call Grant to help me set up the crib. This baby is due in less than eight weeks now, and judging by the way she’s doing entire dance routines in there, she’s eager to make her entrance into the world.
I can only hope to match her level of energy when she’s no longer confined to my womb. Watching Grant put the crib together on the floor of the otherwise bare nursery, I remind myself that I won’t be alone.
“Can I help in any way?” I ask, nervously rubbing my belly. That’s a new thing, the belly rubbing. It’s almost compulsive at this stage.